#toronto book stores

[bookishnotes]

[oldshowbiz]

Ye Olde North Toronto Book Store

[hinaypod]

Acadia Book Store is definitely going to be featured in a Hi Nay episode

What a magical place! ✨ Definitely worth visiting if you're ever in Toronto.

Special shout-out to @re-dracula 👀 look what we found!

[timeisacephalopod]

Remember back in the day where a lot of Tumblr youths said they wanted alcohol free LGBT+ spaces like coffee shops or something to meet with other people but not be barred from entry based on age or alcohol being present? Then ace people said the same thing but with ace coffee shops and now if you say you want an alcohol free LGBT+ space on Tumblr your fuckin clowned to Christian hell and back because people are so aphobic they deadass threw out ideas THEY came up with because asexual people also liked that idea lmao. Now every time I see someone mention alcohol free LGBT+ spaces or stuff other than gay bars I ALWAYS know somewhere on that post the idea queer people may want to hang out without alcohol around or hang out not in a fucking club is some sort of Extremely Cringe Horrible Sexless (oh, a callback to the aphobia that started it all because obviously the worst thing you can be is celibate the church called they want their number back) Behavior that's Mocked and Ridiculed so we all know how Hilarious and Stupid it is to want spaces that aren't bars to hang out in. Like really, the idea that even adults might not ONLY want bars to hang out in is actually ridiculous to you? Really?

[eclipse-song]

This is a cause that is particularly near and dear to my heart, but especially coming up to pride month. Glad Day book shop is considered the oldest queer book store in the world and the oldest running book store in Toronto. They are a staple of the gay village here in my city and are a hub of knowledge and a well recognized safe space for everyone. They are in trouble and may end up being shut down soon however if they cannot come up with $100, 000 to pull themselves out of mounting debt that has been building over the past few years. They're hoping to create a safety net for themselves and to possibly relocate if they can reach their final goal of $300, 000. More details on their fundraising plans are below in the Save Glad Day link.

[whatsupbeanie]

For various reasons I hadn’t been able to see my picture book on a shelf up until now (even though it’s been a couple of years since it came out 😱 time flies!) but I couldn’t believe my eyes when I finally spotted it on a shelf at an Indigo store in Toronto 😭❤️. And it was a staff pick 😭😭😭😭 thank you Shawn!! Hehe, it made me so happy to see it.

[karajaynetoday]

nothing's going right, and everything's a mess, and no one likes to be alone | jack hughes

author's note: don't ask me how the university semester timeline in this works. i have simply given reader a three week break in march bc why not. this is fanfiction okay, anything can happen 😂 no one proofread this for me so soz for any typos!

word count: 3.4k words

warnings: none that i can think of? but lmk if i've missed anything. soz if the ending makes you mad LOL i do love a cliffhanger

read part one here

read part two here

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here

Somehow, the ill feeling of waiting until summer to see Jack again began to fade with each passing day. The itch to text him every time something exciting or infuriating happened to you began to lessen. The thoughts of him when you saw a funny meme he’d like, or your shared favourite foods on special at the grocery store, quietly stopped happening as frequently. 

But then there were the things that didn’t stop. The sharp pain in your chest whenever Jack’s smiling face popped up on your social media feed. The butterflies in your stomach whenever your parents brought him up in conversation, fuelled by whatever the latest updates were from their group message thread with Jim and Ellen. The joy that would wash over you when you heard about a Devils win or a Jack Hughes goal, followed almost always by a wave of sadness that you were hearing about it second or third hand, rather than from Jack himself.

You were the one who’d asked for space. You needed time, you’d said. Given the blow up of All-Star weekend, all Jack was doing was respecting your wishes; but a huge part of you not so secretly wished he’d be a bit more disrespectful and reach out. Your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts, and your heart wasn’t sure which emotion to feel or where to go next. 

Since kindergarten, you’d barely gone more than a few days without seeing or communicating with Jack in some way. Now you were nearly a month without a word, and even though you were still mad at how he’d treated you, you were craving a return to the friendship you’d become so accustomed to. Jack knew you better than anyone, could basically read your mind with a single look, and although you had plenty of friends at college and still around in Toronto from high school, none came close to the camaraderie you shared with Jack. He was someone you could talk to for hours, or sit next to in silence for the same amount of time, it didn’t matter. With Jack, you could be utterly and entirely yourself, no complications. Now it felt like you were always pretending. And it was exhausting.

It was about 9pm on a Thursday night when you found yourself pushing through that exhaustion to try and complete yet another university assignment. For motherfucking economics. You couldn’t wait until you’d completed all of your compulsory economics credits because it was the absolute opposite of your cup of tea, when it came to academic subjects. This assignment was your last one, and you weren’t sure whether to cheer or cry at the idea of hitting the submit button on the online portal. Maybe you should’ve bought a confetti cannon to celebrate. Or a box of wine. Or booked yourself a flight somewhere fun, given you had a break from classes soon.

As soon as the thought of a trip crossed your mind, your phone began to buzz with an incoming video call. A video call from… Luke. Luke Hughes. 

Your face scrunched in confusion, as you swiped to answer the call, met with Luke’s smiling face and messy curls. 

“Hey sunshine! Long time no see. How have you been?” Luke spoke cheerily. Almost too cheerily. 

You were immediately suspicious and narrowed your eyes at the youngest Hughes. 

Luke was 3 years old when you met for the first time; he could barely remember a life without you in it. Given how inseparable you and Jack were, Luke became your de facto little brother, always tagging along where he could and joining in your adventures. Later on, when he became a teenager, you were the one Luke would come to when he was having issues with his friends, or trying to build up the courage to ask out the cute girl in his math class, or missing his brothers when they moved away. You were his second call after Ellen when he felt homesick at Michigan, and you were his first call when he had fucked up something that he felt his brothers would never let him live down. Emotional support and damage control, with a healthy dose of teasing and laughs thrown in. That was the dynamic between you and Luke. It also meant you could read him to filth when he was lying to you, and your honesty radar was through the roof at this sudden video call.

“I’m fine, Moose. Just trying to wrap up my final assignment before the break without losing my entire mind.” You offered weakly, half-expecting Luke to make a joke about your mind having been lost years ago, but the joke never came.

Instead, you saw the concern flicker across Luke’s face, just for a moment, before he forced a smile.

“How long is your break for? Any plans?”

“Three weeks, and not really. I promised my mother I’d spend a few days helping her with planning for their anniversary party in June, but that probably won’t happen until right before I go back to school.” You chatted absently, hitting save on your essay and standing up from the couch, bringing your phone with you as you moved into the kitchen to make yourself a drink.

You propped the phone up against the vase on your kitchen bench, reaching up into the cabinet to retrieve a glass. 

“Well, you should come visit. We’ve got like 5 home games in a row or something ridiculous coming up. It’d be fun!” Luke’s tone was cheerful, but cautious, like he wasn’t sure how you were going to react. 

You hummed in response, moving slightly out of view of your phone to get some ice cubes from your freezer and a soda from the fridge. 

“Besides, I heard a rumour that you’ve got an airline voucher to use. I’d hate for it to expire or something.” 

You could feel your heart starting to beat faster. Luke knew about the voucher. Did that mean Jack had told him about your fight? 

“The voucher won’t expire for three years. I’m sure I’ll manage to use it before then.” You deadpanned, stepping back into frame to see Luke rolling his eyes at you. 

“Yeah, sure, but will I survive that long without seeing you? Absolutely not. Come on, sugar. Please? Even if it’s just a weekend?” Luke had moved into full begging mode, with puppy dog eyes and everything.

You sighed, fidgeting with the straw in your drink and avoiding his gaze. 

“I don’t… we haven’t talked at all, Luke. I don’t know what he’ll do if I just show up there.” You half-whispered, feeling that all-too-familiar wave of sadness coursing through your veins. 

“He talked about you tonight at dinner. Says he misses you. But he doesn’t want to push, or not give you the space you wanted. But right now, he’s on the couch watching Gossip Girl, so…” Luke stated matter-of-factly, staring you down with a knowing look on your face.

Gossip Girl was something you’d insisted Jack get into when you were teenagers, as long as he “wanted to be called your official best friend”. And The OC. And Gilmore Girls. And One Tree Hill. And basically any other teen drama series you could think of. Collectively, those shows had thousands of episodes, and you always found yourself settling down to watch them whenever you were missing Jack more than usual. You’d never realised before that he did the same.

“Should… should we tell him I’m coming? I don’t want him to get upset by a bad surprise.” 

“Not at all, sugar. Book the flight and send me the details, I’ll sort out the rest.” Luke’s beaming smile made a smile of your own creep onto your face, as you nodded at him and went to retrieve your laptop from the couch to log onto the airline website.

“Now that that’s sorted, I was wondering, what does it mean when a girl asks me what my sun, moon and rising are? Should I be worried? Or is it a good thing?”

– 

Two days later, you were done with your semester and on your way to the airport. Luke had suggested you book a one-way flight, “That way, you can go home whenever you like!”, but you were starting to feel like the whole thing was a mistake. 

Nonetheless, you pushed through those feelings and boarded your flight. The whole ordeal took less than two hours, and soon enough you found yourself navigating the arrivals area at Newark airport. You spotted Luke’s lanky figure, clad in a Michigan sweatshirt, with his back to you. You couldn’t help but creep up on him and poke his side, cracking up with laughter as Luke jumped at least three feet into the air. He’d always been the easiest to scare, ever since you were kids. 

Luke cussed you out, and then pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Missed your face, sugarplum.” Luke murmured, as you pulled away from each other and he rested his hands on your shoulders, studying you. 

“Aw, Lukey. I’d say I’d missed yours too, but we really gotta do something about that hair.” You poked your tongue out as the youngest Hughes brother’s jaw dropped in mock offense. 

You retrieved your bag from the luggage carousel, and headed out to where Luke had parked. The two of you fell into easy conversation as Luke navigated through the New Jersey streets back to the apartment he shared with Jack. 

You managed to bury most of the nerves, but they came bubbling back to the surface when Luke pulled into the parking garage at the bottom of his building.

“Is… um… Is Jack home? Alone?” You managed to squeak out, and Luke looked at you like you were crazy. 

Ever since All-Star weekend, you’d been having a recurring nightmare about Jack and the girl from the messages you’d accidentally become privy to. In particular, it was a scenario where you would come home from wherever you’d been out, and opened the apartment door to find them… entangled, on every possible surface you could think of. You felt yourself starting to feel ill as the images from your nightmares started to flash back into your mind. 

“He’s alone. Ever since… ever since he came home early from All-Star, he’s been alone. None of the… usual visitors have been over. And he hasn’t been going to theirs, either. Not even when we’re on a roadie.” Luke said carefully, and you could tell he was trying not to upset you.

You could also tell that he was being honest. Because you could always tell when he was lying. But your mind was running a million miles a minute. Jack hadn’t… for a month? Because of his fight with you? You loved Jack, but you also knew (despite wishing that you didn’t know at all) that it had been years since he’d gone that long without intimacy. In fact, it was probably the longest since losing his virginity that Jack hadn’t fulfilled his desires. 

Your mind was starting to wander into the gutter, and you pressed your eyes closed to bring yourself back to Earth. All you could do was nod at Luke, before you both hopped out of the car and into the elevator. Luke insisted on carrying your luggage, so you found yourself fidgeting incessantly with your hands as the elevator climbed to the correct floor. 

You trailed behind Luke as he strode towards the apartment door and unlocked it, stepping inside and putting your bag down. He looked back and waved you into the apartment, pressing a finger to his lips. You tiptoed across the doorway, and your heart softened at the scene before you. 

You could see the back of Jack’s head leaned up against the couch, and an episode of Gilmore Girls playing on the TV mounted on the wall. In fact, it was one of your favourite episodes; where Jess comes back and shows Rory the book he wrote, and calls her out for dropping out of Yale. You smiled ruefully as you thought about the parallels between that episode and your current situation with Jack, as the argument between Jess and Rory played out on the screen.  

What do you mean?

You know what I mean! I know you. I know you better than anyone! This isn't you!

… 

This isn't you! This! You going out with this jerk, with the Porsche! We made fun of guys like this!

You caught him on a bad night.

This isn't about him! Okay? Screw him! What's going on with you? This isn't you, Rory. You know it isn't. What's going on?

I don't know. I don't know…

“Are we Team Jess or Team Rory this time, Jacky?” Luke called out, making you jump. 

“Team Jess all the way, obviously. Where have you bee-” Jack stopped dead in his tracks as he turned to face his brother, and instead saw you in the middle of his living room.

Jack’s face was a revelation. Confusion, at first. Then the briefest flash of hurt and anguish. Then a smile. Then caution and uncertainty, as he slowly stepped towards you. 

You let a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, and quickly moved across the room, clumsily throwing your arms around your best friend. You felt Jack freeze momentarily, almost as if he was shocked at your touch, but that soon passed and you felt his hands slide around your waist and squeeze, bringing your bodies as close together as possible. 

You nestled your head on Jack’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. His thumbs softly rubbed up and down your side, and you felt him press a soft kiss into your hair. You stayed like that for a minute, or maybe longer, relaxing into the embrace.

The sound of the apartment door slamming shut made you jolt, and you rolled your eyes as you realised that Luke had tried to sneak way unnoticed and failed miserably. 

“Hi.” Jack whispered, pulling back from you slightly but keeping his hands locked around you. 

“Hi.” You whispered back, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. 

“Is it still shit hair? Or better now it’s longer?” Jack teased, rolling his tongue between his teeth.

“Better. But only slightly.” You teased back, your hands slipping down to the back of his neck comfortably. 

The warmth of the surprise arrival was starting to fade. The dread you’d felt over addressing your fight with Jack was starting to set in, fast. The guilt you felt for being the catalyst for over a month for not speaking to your best friend was washing over you. Your heart rate was through the roof, and your palms were beginning to sweat. 

Jack sensed your change in mood, and pulled away from you to look you up and down.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to shower? Or take a nap?” He was nervous, too.

“I ate before my flight. And showered this morning. And it’s 11am, so I think I’m good on the nap front. But I do think we should… we should talk. About everything.” You were basically tripping over your words at this point, but Jack’s reassuring nod helped to calm your nerves. 

Wordlessly, Jack took your hand and led you over to the couch, gesturing for you to sit. You sat down and faced him, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your knees, still fidgeting with your hoodie sleeves. 

“I’m sorry - “ You both said unanimously, a gentle laughter filling the room. 

“I’m sorry I needed so much time apart, J. It fucking sucked, and it was my fault, and I just didn’t -” You began to ramble, only stopping when Jack leaned over and squeezed your knee reassuringly.

“You only needed that time because I was an asshole, sugar. It’s on me, really. I had no right to treat you like an occasional friend, or something that I shouldn’t prioritise -” Jack paused as you cringed, remembering the text messages that referred to his time with you as “boring family bullshit”. 

“I was thinking with my dick, not with my head, and that’s not fair on anyone.” You shot Jack a weird look, and he looked sheepish in return.

“Quinn… Quinn said that to me. After you told him to tell me about the messages. He’s right, thought. It wasn’t fair.” Jack continued, pausing to take a deep breath. 

“This whole… thing, this life -” Jack gestured broadly at the apartment around you, and you glanced around properly for the first time. Framed jerseys of Luke and Jack’s adorned the walls.Various photos of the Hughes family scattered about the place. The fridge, with a gas bill stuck to it, along with a polaroid of you and Jack from last Christmas. And a photo from your senior prom. And a group photo of everyone from last summer at the lake house, Jack’s mouth open in laughter with his arm slung over your bikini-clad shoulders. 

“It’s all I thought I ever wanted. And it’s amazing, and I’m so grateful. But it’s worth nothing to me, the money, the girls -” You felt yourself involuntarily cringe again. “The fame, the accolades, it’s worth nothing to me without the people that I love by my side. And if those people don’t know how much I love and appreciate them, because I treat them like shit, then that’s on me. No one else. Me.” 

You sat quietly, taking in Jack’s emphatic statement. You weren’t quite sure what to say. So instead, you gently reached over and took Jack’s hand in yours, lacing your fingers through his and squeezing softly, for a moment while you gathered your thoughts.

“I know the life you live, Jack. You don’t have to be sorry for it. Playing hockey was all you ever dreamed of, and I honestly can’t blame you for… enjoying… all the perks it comes with.” You swallowed the wave of nausea that hit you, before continuing. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what life looks like without you in it. The last month was such a bizarre experience, and not one that I ever want to repeat, but I also… I need to… Can I be honest?” You spoke softly, glancing up from your hands to meet Jack’s gaze, and he nodded encouragingly at you. 

“I wasn’t just upset because you made me feel like I was inconveniencing you, or cock-blocking you -” It was Jack’s turn to cringe. “I think I was upset because I was jealous. Because that will never, ever be me. And I think… I think I want it to be? Maybe? Fuck, I don’t know!” You dropped Jack’s hand and stood up from the couch, and started to pace the room. 

“Sugar, please sit down.” Jack pleaded, and you paused, looking back at him on the couch. One look was all you needed, and you narrowed your eyes at the smirk on his dumb face. 

“Why are you smirking? I am experiencing emotional distress, you asshole.” You seethed, running your hands through your hair in frustration.

“Tell me more about this jealousy thing. I’m intrigued.” Jack’s tone was light and teasing, and washed over you like sour milk. Your head whipped in his direction and your face must’ve said a thousand words, because Jack’s smirk soon disappeared and he hurriedly stood up and walked over, reaching out to touch you. 

“See, this -” You jabbed a finger into Jack’s chest. “This is why I have avoided this conversation for almost my entire life. Because you think it’s hilarious that we could ever go down that path. That we could ever be something more than what we are. Because I’m not good enough,or pretty enough, or just enough and I never will be, and I hate it. I hate it so much.” Your voice cracked on the last few words, and you felt the hot tears start to bubble out of your eyes and stream down your face. 

Jack didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. He pulled you into a hug, bringing his hand up to your face and gently brushing away the tears with his thumbs. 

“Breathe, sugar. You need to calm down.” Jack said quietly, willing you to calm. That just made you cry harder. 

You were about to pull away, when you felt Jack cup your face with both hands, before leaning in to kiss you. 

[srbachchan]

DAY 6058

Jalsa, Mumbai Sept 18, 2024/Sept 19 Wed/Thu 8:52 am

🪔 ..

September 19 .. birthday greetings to Ef Vandana Joshi Bhat from Toronto - Canada 🇨🇦 .. and .. Ef Dharmesh Trivedi from USA 🇺🇸 .. 🙏🏻❤️🚩

September 18 .. birthday greetings to the Californians clan of the Ef .. Ef Viral .. Ef Sandeep Khurana .. and Ef Anisha Datta .. our love and wishes .. 🙏🏻❤️🚩

September 17 .. birthday greetings to Ef Jags .. and Ef Tasnima Khan from UK 🇬🇧 .. 🙏🏻❤️🚩

our wishes and greetings .. from the Ef ..

At times many wonder at the content that appears on this most communicative page .. as also on the minimal expresses of the X and the FB .. and I often smile and laugh at the manner in which , they that profess to be the 'masters' of the communicative 'business', pick up words expressions and create content headlines , in the garb of sensationalised information, for, that is what catches the eye of the visitor ..

The shop keeper that 'SELLS' his product - clothes, eats etc.,- shall ever put the very attractive 'content' at the doors of the window , in order to attract a prospective buyer , in order to get him or her into the store to BUY .. There is no difference in the presentation of CONTENT ..

Sensation works the sale ..

How to create it , is no longer a challenge .. the freshness of the earlier communicative days has been deeply diluted by the billions of visuals and cameras and individual information and communication devices, now at the hands of 7.6 billion humans ..

How to survive this onslaught is what the writing on the wall is :

THE IMPOTENCY OF CONTENT

अपने पदार्थ को कैसे बेचा जाए, ये उनकी समस्या का विषय बन गया है ।

तो क्या किया जाये ? चलो कुछ नया, मन चाहा, रेत का महल बना देते हैं । है तो रेत का, ज़्यादा देर टिके गा नहीं, जल्दी गिर जाएगा, फिर और कुछ बना देंगे - 'बना' देंगे - बनी बनी कहानी है, सच्चाई से बहुत दूर , क्या फ़र्क़ पड़ता है, हमारे बारे में तो नहीं है न !!!? वो जिनके बारे में जो असत्य लिखा है , छपा है, वो भोगें , हमारा काम तो हो गया - बिक गया, बेच दिया , माल अंदर - खेल ख़तम पैसा हज़म !!!

जी हाँ !!! आपका खेल क़तम, और आपके पैसे हज़म - दूसरे तड़पें, कष्ट में पड़ें, हमको क्या, हमारी तो बिक्री हो गई !

बेच दिया - बेच दिया अपने संस्कार, अपना धर्म, अपनी आत्मा को !!

अब देखियेगा, इस लेखन को किस तरह तोड़ मरोड़ कर, बेचने का प्रयास किया जायेगा

😁

🤣

😜

ट्विटर पे जो मेरा परिचय मैंने दिया है, वो बाबूजी के शब्द, और मेरा परिचय देते हैं :

"तुमने हमें पूज पूज कर पत्थर कर डाला ; वे जो हमपर जुमले कसते हैं हमें ज़िंदा तो समझते हैं "~ हरिवंश राय बच्चन

Immersed completely in the words deeds and thoughts of Babuji .. his mind and learnings from it .. his words and the reasons for portraying them .. the deeper meanings, and the essence of life .. all in such vividity ..

One does not have the desire to leave them, and stride away to the usual normal daily chores ..

And as I desire the close of today - toDAY .. I come across the words of my Father - I often in normal days called him Dad, but in his reference to the World it shall ever be the respectful BABUJI - बाबूजी ..

.. and his words from one of his works :

join your body with mine , so that you speak from my throat too, from my vocals too ; what is there that is special about me , I need to explain to you or bring to your notice .. what is special is that I want to refuse all kinds of speciality that is upon me !!!

I worked late .. I awoke early and wished to write the Blog .. but immersed in the words and books of Babuji lying open beside me and could not resist the temptation of being with them ..

May there be love and bearings of grace and harmony about

Amitabh Bachchan ❤️

[bookishnotes]

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Come see me on tour!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/16/narrative-capitalism/#bezzle-tour

My next novel is The Bezzle, a high-tech ice-cold revenge thriller starring Marty Hench, a two-fisted forensic accountant, as he takes on the sleaziest scams of the first two decades of the 2000s, from hamburger-themed Ponzis to the unbelievably sleazy and evil prison-tech industry:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

I'm taking Marty on the road! I'll be visiting eighteen cities between now and June, and I hope you'll come out and say hello, visit a beloved local bookseller, and maybe get a book (or two)!

21 Feb: Weller Bookworks, Salt Lake City, 1830h: https://www.wellerbookworks.com/event/store-cory-doctorow-feb-21-630-pm

22 Feb: Mysterious Galaxy, San Diego, 19h: https://www.mystgalaxy.com/22224Doctorow

24 Feb: Vroman's, Pasadena, 17h, with Adam Conover (!!) https://www.vromansbookstore.com/Cory-Doctorow-discusses-The-Bezzle

26 Feb: Third Place Books, Seattle, 19h, with Neal Stephenson (!!!) https://www.thirdplacebooks.com/event/cory-doctorow

27 Feb: Powell's, Portland, 19h: https://www.powells.com/book/the-bezzle-martin-hench-2-9781250865878/1-2

29 Feb: Changing Hands, Phoenix, 1830h: https://www.changinghands.com/event/february2024/cory-doctorow

9-10 Mar: Tucson Festival of the Book: https://tucsonfestivalofbooks.org/?action=display_author&id=15669

13 Mar: San Francisco Public Library: https://sfpl.org/events/2024/03/13/author-cory-doctrow-bezzle

22 Mar: Toronto: Wendy Michener Memorial Lecture: https://events.yorku.ca/events/wendy-michener-memorial-lecture2024/

24 Mar: NYC: Word Books (with Laura Poitras): https://shop.wordbookstores.com/event/word-presents-cory-doctorow

29-31 Mar: Wondercon Anaheim: https://www.comic-con.org/wc/

11 Apr: Harvard Berkman-Klein Center (with Randall Munroe) https://cyber.harvard.edu/events/enshittification

12 Apr: RISD Debates in AI, Providence, details coming soon!

17 Apr: Anderson's Books, Chicago, 19h: https://www.andersonsbookshop.com/event/cory-doctorow-1

19-21 Apr: Torino Biennale Tecnologia https://www.turismotorino.org/en/experiences/events/biennale-tecnologia

2 May, Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives, Winnipeg https://www.eventbrite.ca/e/cory-doctorow-tickets-798820071337

5-11 May: Tartu Prima Vista Literary Festival https://tartu2024.ee/en/kirjandusfestival/

6-9 Jun: Media Ecology Association keynote, Amherst, NY https://media-ecology.org/convention

Calgary and Vancouver – details coming soon!

[thebowieconstricker]

Stagedoor Sparks! (Matthew Patel x Reader) ✨🔥🔱

masterlist link

AN: OH MY GOODNESS YOU GUYS WERE FEELING THIS ONE OKAY-

I’m so glad to see people hyped up for my pathetic pirate boy. Please enjoy and if this goes well I may turn it into a series lol

We’ve got a gender neutral reader, idiots in love, I saw someone say pathetic x pathetic and YES, theater kid lingo, mild swearing, and your favorite cutie pie. ⚠️Also, this is heavily based on Scott Pilgrim Takes Off, so spoiler warnings for that if you haven’t seen it! ⚠️ Enjoy!

“Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Musical”, was what the bright lights of the massive sign on your local theater boasted. Recently, your coworker Julie had been telling you about the ridiculous life of this ‘Scott Pilgrim’, ranting about the conga line of characters that filled his (frankly, pathetic sounding) existence. She had also alerted you to this… musical. A musical that had been written about his life.

You sighed to yourself and adjusted your bag. Making your way to the golden, elaborately designed doors, just barely dodging all the paparazzi (why was there so much paparazzi?), you somehow successfully made your way into the main lobby of the theatre. Ivory and gold filled your vision as you observed the plush red carpet that lined each of the three floors. You had visited this theater before, and it’s gorgeous grandeur never failed to amaze you.

Now, you did not at all care about this guy. Yes, you had been silently internalizing every minuscule part of this random guy’s daily shenanigans, but that was because you were being a good friend to Julie! This Scott guy seemed like a tool, and you weren't particularly interested in listening to a…?

You checked the playbill the usher had just handed you.

…THREE HOUR MUSICAL?!? You almost started laughing right there.

But anyways, you weren’t here for this Scott guy.

You were here for musical theater. You had always been drawn to the fantastical world of lights and costumes and music. Plus, this was a community production with actors from Toronto, and you were always happy to support your local theater kids.

As you finally made your way to your seat, you sat down in the plush red chairs and opened your playbill to the cast section. You didn’t see any names you recognized, but one stood out to you.

Matthew Patel - Scott Pilgrim

Obviously, Scott Pilgrim was the lead role, but what really caught your attention was the picture attached to the name. Matthew Patel, you respectfully observed, was mad cute.

The lights suddenly began to dim and you settled in for whatever was in store, keeping a keen eye out for this ‘Matthew Patel’.

~~~ Holy shit, this is the best thing you’ve ever seen.

From the moment Matthew Patel walked onstage, you were absolutely smitten. He wore a bright orange wig that clashed horrendously with his dark skin, and an oversized jacket, but he was the hottest thing you had ever seen. Also, holy shit, Matthew Patel could sing. From the first line, you were completely enraptured by his high tenor belting. As you watched him onstage, you saw literal sparks in his eyes, his excitement and passion for the stage radiating off of him.

At the curtain call, you stood and enthusiastically clapped for each of the cast members, but hooped and hollered for Matthew especially. Even though you knew he couldn’t see you from the stage, you found yourself blushing at the thought of him looking at you.

That’s when it hit you: You’ve gotta book it to stage door to meet this guy.

~~~ Matthew Patel was completely exhausted. As the curtains flew closed, he sighed and turned around to smile at his cast mates. Although he was drained by his performance, he always took this opportunity at the end of a show to look to his fellow caste mates.

And hopefully someone would invite him with their group to an after show dinner.

He walked through the crowd, giving pats on the back and thumbs ups as he made his way to his dressing room. Lots of smiles, lots of “great job!”’s but… no invitations.

Slamming the door to his room he quickly took of his wig and put on his regular clothes, deciding that he would take off his stage makeup at home (aka the makeup he regularly wore but no one cared enough to know that). His room had a window where he could look down at the stagedoor line, the line that had been non-existent since opening night. He didn’t take it personally, since this musical was for a very specific audience of people and he understood that outside of them, no one knew or cared who Scott Pilgrim was. But still, he was onstage. He was singing and dancing and his art was being celebrated. Yes, he was lonely, still, but life wasn’t too bad right now.

As he did every day, he quickly glanced out his window to check for audience members at stage door and, sure enough, no one-

Wait-

Someone was there?

He did a double take and physically walked to the window, his hands placed against the glass and his now quickening breath creating a fog.

SOMEONE WAS THERE??!?!?

From high up in his dressing room, he saw a small figure holding the bright red playbill of his show. They seemed to be moving back and forth on their feet, bouncing excitedly. From so high up he couldn’t see their expression, but could make out what he thought was a smile.

He broke out into a wide smile. Running around his room, gathering his things and throwing them into his backpack, only one thought raced through his mind: He had to get down there.

~~~ As you waited, the cold Toronto air stung against your flushed cheeks. You were still high on endorphins from the show, the songs already worming their way into your head as you tapped your feet in anticipation.

Suddenly, and without warning, a man burst out of the dark black door you were waiting out, out of breath and panting. He was so hellbent on running out the door that he ran right into you, knocking you over!

“AH-“, you both made the same sound as you fell, the man directly on top of you.

“Oh- apologies, ma’am, I uh-“

You would have said a number of rude things to this man but, seeing his face, you were starstruck.

“Matthew Patel?”

His eyes widened in shock. Carefully, he got off of you and onto his knee in front of you. Gently, he took your hand and pulled you up, the both of you now back on your feet.

“You know me?”

You couldn’t help but notice the faint blush on his cheeks.

“Of course! Well- I mean, you know, you’re Scott Pilgrim! You were absolutely incredible up there, just amazing! My jaw was the floor the whole time! I mean, your voice and your dancing and the fight scenes-“

As you rambled on and on, Matthew was unable to snap himself out of the trance you had put him in. Visually, you were breathtaking, so much so he didn’t know how he had ever found anyone else attractive. But more so, you were genuinely complimenting him. He was never complimented on his theater work. He’d get the rare one from his cast mates, but never an outside fan.

Noticing his silence, you suddenly stopped talking.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to rant, it’s just- one theater kid to another, you were so amazing.”

He shook his head at your apology. “No, don’t be sorry. You’re- you’re very kind. Thank you. And I’m sorry again for… running you over.”

You laughed- a leitmotif to rival Sondheims to Matthew’s ears- and looked at him with a goofy grin.

“Would you sign my playbill?”

“Would you like to have dinner tonight?”

The two of you spoke at the same time, and one’s question made the other blush furiously. Matthew’s entire body tensed in embarrassment that he had been bold enough to ask you out like this, not even knowing your name.

You were absolutely over the moon.

“I- uh- yes. Yes, I would love to.”

Your smile got impossibly wider, and the sparks in Matthew’s eyes that you had noted during his performance returned. With a huge grin, he reached out his hand to take your playbill. You handed it to him and a marker appeared in his other hand as he quickly scribbled his signature.

“What’s your name?”

You told him and his blush deepened. He turned back to the playbill and scribbled a bit more, then handed it to you. You squeaked in excitement and looked at what he had written.

To my biggest fan,

(Y/N)

Looking back up at him, you were certain this was the start of something new.

“So… do you like Italian?”

~~~ HEY MATTHEW FANS TAKE THIS FIC! GO, FETCH! This’ll make a lot more sense if you like musicals, so have fun! Like I said at the start, if y’all want more and I’m feeling up to it, I’ll write more! Happy holidays, folks!

[pwlanier]

Evgeny Askerovich Izmailov (born 1939) "A Figure and Three Horses". On the back "Bouquet". 1985.

Canvas, tempera, 60×50 cm.

There are author's signatures in the lower right corner.

Origin: the property of the author.

Painter, graphic artist. He studied at the Moscow Secondary Art School in Lavrushinsky Lane (1953–1959), at the Moscow State Institute named after C I. Surikova (1959–1964) - first at the Faculty of Painting, and then at the theater. In 1964-1969, as an author and artist, he published several children's books. In 1969-1979, he experimented a lot with the form, material, format, genre of his works. He was engaged in etching, making voluminous things from wood and paper. He illustrated two books in the etching technique. In 1990-1995 he worked in Germany, England, France. In addition to easel things, he did work in volume, advertising projects, wall paintings. In the 1970s, he participated in apartment exhibitions, in the 1980s - in the expositions of the G20 on Malaya Gruzinskaya. A participant of the famous exhibition of uncensored art at VDNH (1975), Evgeny Izmailov subsequently naturally became one of the participants of the landmark project "Other Art", held in 1990-1991 at the Tretyakov Gallery. Since the early 1990s, Izmailov has worked a lot and exhibited in Western Europe. The artist's works are stored in the GTG, State Art Institute of Art named after A.S. Pushkin, Tomsk City Museum, Berlin City Museum and Dresden Gallery (Germany), as well as in private collections in Moscow, St. Petersburg, Vienna, Paris, Toronto, Seattle, Bangkok, Cologne, Hamburg, New York.

Litfund

[opencommunion]

please go to a protest for Land Day tomorrow (March 30th) if you can

AUSTRALIA – Hobart / Nipaluna. 1PM Every Saturday @ Davey St. (Grand Chancellor).

CANADA – Antigonish, NS. 1PM Every Saturday @ Antigonish Town Hall. Antigonish 4 Gaza.

CANADA – Montreal. 2PM Land Day Tatreez Workshop @ Refugee Center. PYM Montreal.

CANADA – Ottawa. 2PM Land Day @ Human Rights Monument.

CANADA – Toronto. 2PM Land Day @ Yonge & Dundas. PYM Toronto.

ENGLAND – Halifax. 1PM Every Saturday @ Wilkos on Southgate.

ENGLAND – Hebden Bridge. 3PM Every Saturday @ Holme Street. 4PM @ St George’s Square. West Yorkshire for Palestine.

ENGLAND – London. 11AM @ 7 Tavistock Square. PYM Britain.

ENGLAND – London. 12PM @ Central London. STW UK.

NETHERLANDS – Amsterdam. 7PM Every Night @ Dam Square.

PORTUGAL – Porto. 10PM Every Night Vigil @ Camara Municipal.

SCOTLAND – Orkney. 1PM Every Saturday @ St Magnus Cathedral Steps. Amnesty Orkney.

AZ – Phoenix. 1MP Land Day @ Civic Space Park. PSL Phoenix AZ.

CA – Los Angeles. 1PM Land Day March @ LA City Hall. PYM LA/OC/IE.

CA – Petaluma. 12:30PM Every Saturday @ Petaluma & E Washington. Occupy Pelatuma.

CA – Ventura. 12:30PM @ 181 E Santa Clara St. ANSWER Coalition.

CO – Fort Collins. 3PM Every Saturday @ Old Town Square. NOCO Liberation Coalition.

DC – Washington DC. 4PM @ DuPont Circle. ANSWER Coalition.

FL – Gainesville. 11AM @ Depot Park. ANSWER Coalition.

FL – Orlando. City Hall. TBA. ANSWER Coalition.

FL – Pensacola. PM @ Main & Reus (Blue Wahoos). PSL CGC. 

GA – Atlanta. 2PM @ Consulate of Israel. PYM.

ID – Pocatello. 12PM Every Saturday @ Bannock County Courthouse. Pocatello for Palestine.

IL – Chicago. 1PM @ TBA. USPCN + Chicago SJP.

LA – New Orleans. 3:30PM @ 701 N Rampart St.

MA – Springfield. 2PM @ 36 Court St. ANSWER Coalition.

ME – Portland. 1PM @ Monument Square. PSL Maine.

MI – Detroit. 1:30PM @ Beacon Park. USPCN.

MI – Detroit. 10AM Land Day @ Rouge Park. PYM.

MN – Minneapolis. 2PM @ 2707 West Lake St. ANSWER Coalition.

MT – Kalispell. 12PM Every Saturday @ Main & Center. MT 4 Palestine.

NC – Asheville. 4PM @ 1 N Pack Square. ANSWER Coalition.

NC – Charlotte. 4PM @ Wilmore Centennial Park. CLT 4 Palestine + PSL Carolinas.

NC – Raleigh. 3PM Land Day @ Moore Square. PSL Carolinas.

NC, Charlotte. 4PM @ Wilmore Centennial Park. Land Day. CLT 4 Pali + PSL Carolinas.

NM – Albuquerque. 4PM @ UNM Book Store. ANSWER Coalition.

NY – New York. 12PM @ City Hall Park. Within Our Lifetime.

NY – New York. 12PM Vigil Every Saturday @ 5th & 44th in Brooklyn. Sunset Park Elders.

NY – New York. 5PM @ Times Square. PYM.

NY – Rochester. 1:30PM @ MLK Park. End Apartheid ROC + SJP UR.

OH – Cincinnati. 3PM @ 801 Plum St. ANSWER Coalition.

OH – Cleveland. 2PM Land Day @ Edgewater Upper Pavillion. USCPN.

OH – Columbus. 4PM @ 120 W Goodale St. ANSWER Coalition.

OH – Dayton. 5PM @ 2680 Ridge Ave. ANSWER Coalition.

OH – Wooster. 11AM @ 538 N Market St. ANSWER Coalition.

OR – Bend. 12PM Saturdays @ Peace Corner. Central Oregon 4 Socialism.

OR – Portland. 12PM @ Desert Island Studios. Letters for Palestine PDX.

PA – Philadelphia. 5PM @ 7th & Walnut. ANSWER Coalition.

PA – Pittsburgh. 3:30PM @ 4100 Forbes Ave. ANSWER Coalition.

RI – Providence. 5PM @ Prospect Terr. ANSWER Coalition.

TX – Houston. 1PM @ Waterwall Park. PYM Houston.

TX – San Antonio. 12PM @ 301 E Travis ST. ANSWER Coalition.

VT – Burlington. 1PM @ City Hall. ANSWER Coalition.

WA – Seattle. 2PM Land Day @ Lake Union Park. PYM.

WI – Milwaukee. 1:30PM @ Sijan Park. PSL Milwaukee.

WI – Viroqua. 11AM Vigil Every Saturday @ Main & Decker. Driftless Solidarity / Wolves PSC.

WV – Martinsburg. 12PM Land Day @ Martinsburg Town Square. PSL WV.

DISCLAIMER: I didn't make this list and it's not comprehensive. If you don't see a protest near you, look up what your local orgs are doing, and if you still can't find anything, take autonomous action

[youcouldmakealife]

COTT 36: outtakes

Today's chapter was originally almost a full 1k longer, as James got downright Holden-esque in his rambling (he gets over-explain-y when unsettled, and yearning is very destabilizing, especially on top of his general roadie overwhelm.).

I cut it because it's, you know, almost 1k of rambling reminiscence, but if you are interested, here is James' Vending Machine Adventures, That Time James Forgot His Passport and James' Feelings About Family Ties and Cracked Pepper.

On face licking and vending machine stalking:

Nor something he plans on ever doing, yearning aside, as he is not a canine.

But then, James would have also said that he was above loitering around a vending machine at midnight, trying to look like he was having trouble making a decision to avoid arousing suspicion.

Every time he heard footsteps coming down the hall he would resignedly pull out his wallet for effect, already knowing it wasn’t Holden.

At some point James must have learned what Holden’s walk sounds like. He’s not sure when that happened, but he can’t say he’s surprised either, given the intensity of focus he’s aimed Holden’s way over the past several weeks, researching him like an opponent, a play, a — the comparisons break down at some point, Holden unlike anything James has been preoccupied with before.

After the first few disappointments, James handled two more passerby — one a harassed looking member of the hotel staff, who paid him no attention, the other a teammate who unfortunately took James’ presence as an invitation to socialize — before he finally gave up, buying a bottle of water so he didn’t return to his room empty handed.

He’s not sure why he bothered — it’s not like was expecting to have to explain himself to anyone. Maybe so he didn’t have to admit, even to himself, that he’d been waiting for Holden, though it was probably a little late for that, because he knew that was precisely what he was doing.

He didn’t even end up drinking that water. He forget it in hotel mini-bar. He’d like to think someone drank it, but most likely, they just threw it out, which makes him feel dimly guilty about the waste. He reminds himself how many bottles of water they must sell at every hockey game, but that only makes him feel worse, so he watches highlights on his phone until his head clears, a clean sheet of ice again.

On Passport Snafus and Secret Safes:

Holden waves his passport at him triumphantly from his spot in line, and James rolls his eyes.

He forgot his own passport once — just once — early in his career. The team has photocopies, in case someone’s is lost or stolen, and apparently that was an acceptable substitute. At least, they let him into Canada, but rather than risk trouble on the way home — as a citizen, they have to let him in, passport or no, but he doubts they’re required to make it a comfortable process — his super let a staff member into his apartment with his permission. She sent it to them via same-day courier, and it arrived in Toronto almost as soon as they did.

James had been storing his passport in his underwear drawer at the time. He’d figured that way he’d never forget where it was, and he was right, but it didn’t prevent him from forgetting it entirely. For years he couldn’t look at her. Was genuinely relieved when she was promoted to a more senior position, one that involved significantly less interaction with the players.

His underwear drawer has simply been an underwear drawer ever since. His passport’s in his coat pocket now, of course, but when he gets home, it will go back into a hollowed out calculus textbook that Finn bought for him after the Passport Incident.

That book has been sitting on his shelf, concealing his passport for years without incident, up until last week, when Holden got his hands on it. He’d been skimming James’ shelves, making comments about the players whose autobiographies were present, snide and otherwise, but when he came across the calculus textbook he immediately reached out like he was magnetized, laughing when he flipped it open to find James’ passport, birth certificate, all the papers he couldn’t afford to lose. James would have been offended, but it wasn’t a laugh of amusement, more of discovery, of delight. Apparently, he’s able to identify that by sound too.

When James asked how he knew it was something worth investigating, Holden pointed out it was the only thing that didn’t involve hockey in the hockey room. James does have to admit that was an oversight on his part, and a concern if he is ever robbed. But then, if he is, everything of worth he owns is in that room, almost all of it irreplaceable. Losing his passport would be the least of his problems.

Even so, he likes it as a hiding space, so he’s considering hollowing out a hockey book instead. A bad one, one of the ones that barely discuss hockey, so busy offering braggadocio and salacious details, so he won’t feel so guilty about it.

Until then, he’s not particularly worried about Holden stealing his passport from its default hiding place. He’s far more concerned about him misplacing his own, or forgetting it again.

On the Ericksons and Schneiders sitting together during games:

His father said it made sense to, since he and Finn were almost always on the ice at the same time and besides, the Schneiders didn’t talk during play, like some parents did. It makes James uncomfortable, them knowing one another, socializing independently of him, but at the same time, it’s a relief they get along.

On dinner add-ons:

James demurs cracked pepper, parmesan, while the Schneiders load up on both — he likes both, but not enough to ask a stranger to lean into his personal space, over his plate, cranking their little machine unbearably slowly until he tells them to stop.

[misshoneyimhome]

500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“You can rest your head on me, I don’t mind.” I Joseph Woll ✿

Requested: yes/no [I hope this is close to what you imagined bb]

Summary: From the moment Joseph Woll steps into the small café, everything shifts. Despite the shadows of your past, no one seems a better match than the goaltender in his shining hockey gear.

Tropes & warnings: no warnings, it's just pure fluff 😊✿ strangers to lovers, hesitant reader, adorable boyfriend!Joe x reader

Other notes: At our next stop for the Followers Festival, I'm thrilled to introduce Joseph Woll once more 🤗 He’s as charming as ever, and with his extension with the Leafs, he remains close to our hearts ❤️

Word count: 3.6K

➼｡ﾟ

When you started your shift as nothing but a regular barista on this seemingly ordinary July morning, you had no idea what the day had in store for you. The air was already warm and slightly humid, typical for Toronto in midsummer, and the sun peeked through the buildings, casting a soft golden glow on the cobblestone streets. You took a deep breath, savouring the stillness of the early morning before the city fully awoke. Everything seemed perfectly normal.

You unlocked the doors of the small, cosy café, tucked away in one of the hidden corners of the city, its charm known only to locals and a few lucky tourists. The scent of freshly baked pastries from the bakery next door mingled with the aroma of coffee beans, creating a comforting atmosphere that always lifted your spirits. You spent the first hour preparing to open, moving through the familiar routine with practised ease. The rich, earthy scent of coffee filled the air as you ground the beans, the soft hiss of the espresso machine breaking the silence.

The café itself was a quaint little place, with mismatched furniture that somehow fit together perfectly. Vintage posters adorned the walls, and small potted plants added a touch of greenery. You arranged the pastries in the display case, making sure the croissants, muffins, and cookies looked enticing. You wiped down the tables, fluffed the cushions on the worn leather sofas, and set up the chalkboard sign outside, detailing the day's specials in your best attempt at fancy handwriting.

Despite the tranquillity of the café, your mind was a whirlwind. It was going to be a slow Sunday, just what you needed after the stressful week you had endured. The memories of several heated arguments with your now ex-boyfriend played on a loop in your head, as the fights had been intense, filled with hurtful words and accusations. Yet, the breakup, though painful, had brought a strange sense of relief. You were free from the constant tension, but the wounds were still fresh, and the loneliness was starting to creep in.

_

It had been everything you dreaded. The two of you had been together for three years, slowly growing older together. But you were both still very young, only 20 years old, just stepping into adulthood and trying to navigate the complexities that came with it.

You worked your part-time job at the café alongside your studies in English literature, as you had always been captivated by romance novels, losing yourself in stories of passionate love and soulmates. You dreamed of experiencing the kind of love that made your heart race and your breath catch. But your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend as of two days ago—was far from any of the book boyfriends you’d read about. He was sweet and kind, sure, and he treated you well enough and never harmed you. Yet, you never felt like you were truly in love, like how they described it in those books. You never had the flutter in your stomach or the difficulty in breathing just thinking of him. Your palms didn’t get sweaty, and your knees didn’t go weak. You could think perfectly logically, and you never longed for him when you were apart.

With your ex, you simply felt secure. It was as though you were fulfilling the norms and expectations of society by finding a partner to settle down with. Everything was planned. When you’d both finished your studies, you’d then move in together after finding secure jobs and a stable income. And then you’d prioritise building a family after your wedding. It was all mapped out.

But you couldn’t help but feel like it was all wrong. Over the years, he grew less sweet and kind, becoming more rude and cruel in the way he spoke to you. His once gentle words turned harsh, and his patience wore thin over the smallest things. You had never been an explorer in regards to sexual activity, yet he’d encouraged you to try things out with him. Though a part of you felt pressured, you went along with it, but you never truly experienced the wonderful high many women spoke of. It was more just him doing his thing while you followed along until he reached his release. It felt wrong. It was nothing like you imagined a romantic relationship should feel like. Nothing like the tales you read about.

As time went on, you grew more convinced that those stories were just that—stories. The passionate love, the soulmates, the fairy tale endings—they all seemed like fantasies, unattainable and unrealistic. Your relationship had become a checklist of societal expectations rather than a journey of love and discovery. Moreover, your boyfriend wasn’t as good a person as you’d thought all those years. And though the realisation was painful, it also brought a sense of clarity. You knew you couldn’t continue living a life that felt so hollow, so far removed from the dreams you once cherished.

And so, you made the difficult decision to end things. For the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope, a belief that perhaps, somewhere out there, the kind of love you had read about in your beloved romance novels could exist for you.

_

You took a moment for yourself, leaning against the counter and closing your eyes. The café was your sanctuary, a place where you could escape from the chaos of your personal life. Here, you could lose yourself in the rhythm of making coffee, the friendly chatter of regular customers, and the peaceful ambience. You embraced the day with a smile, determined to find solace in the simple joys of your job.

So, as you flipped the sign to "Open," you took another deep breath, ready to face whatever the day might bring. The familiar routine was comforting, and you hoped the slow yet steady stream of customers would help keep your mind off your troubles. Little did you know, this ordinary July morning was about to turn into something far from ordinary.

And his name was Joseph Woll.

You were wiping down the counter when the bell above the door chimed, announcing the arrival of a new customer. You looked up and were greeted by a tall figure stepping inside, shaking off the light drizzle that had just begun outside. At first, you didn’t recognise him. His scruffy beard was a departure from the clean-shaven look he sported in all the pictures and interviews you had seen. Yet, it added a rugged charm to his already handsome face. But then, his eyes—those dreamy, captivating eyes—met yours, and it hit you. Joseph Woll, the Toronto Maple Leafs goaltender, was standing right in front of you.

Joseph approached the counter with a relaxed smile, his presence bringing warmth to the otherwise dull day. "Good morning," he said, his voice soft yet confident. "Can I get a medium latte, please?"

You could hardly believe it. Here was a professional athlete, a local celebrity, standing in your little café. Yet, you managed to respond, though a bit shakily, "Of course, coming right up."

And as you began preparing his order, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. He was casually dressed in a hoodie and jeans, yet he carried himself with a relaxed elegance. You noticed how his eyes scanned the café, taking in the cosy decor, the mismatched furniture, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. And when his gaze then returned to you, there was a softness in his expression that made your heart skip a beat.

Joseph was an absolute sweetheart.

You felt his eyes linger on you a little longer than perhaps they should have, just like yours lingered on him. It was as if there was an inexplicable connection, a silent understanding that passed between you. Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, and you hoped he didn't notice the blush creeping up your neck.

You were almost unable to speak, yet you managed to say the simple words any barista would instinctively say to a customer. "Here you go, one medium latte." Your hands felt slightly shaky as you handed him the cup, but you managed to keep your composure.

Joseph took the coffee with a grateful nod. "Thanks," he said, his eyes twinkling.

As he turned to leave, you couldn't help but mentally facepalm yourself. What’s wrong with me? you muttered under your breath. It was the first time someone, let alone a stranger, had made you feel so weak in the knees, caused your heartbeat to quicken, and your lips to tingle.

You watched him walk out into the drizzle, the bell above the door chiming softly as he left. It was just a brief encounter, a one-off experience, and you knew you’d probably never see him again. Yet, you felt a thrill you hadn’t experienced in a long time—a flutter of excitement that lingered long after he was gone.

For the rest of your shift, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Every time the door opened, you found yourself hoping it was him coming back - the memory of his kind eyes and warm smile stayed with you, a small beacon of light in an otherwise grey day. Even though you knew it was probably unlikely, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. It was a sensation you’d thought was reserved for fairy tales, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, those romance stories you adored could hold a kernel of truth.

However, to your great surprise, the following Sunday, Joseph came back. It was the same early morning time, just as the sun was starting to break through the clouds and cast a soft light into the café. The shop was quiet, with only a few regulars occupying the cosy corners. When the door opened and the bell chimed, you looked up to see him standing there, a familiar, charming smile spreading across his face.

"Good morning," he greeted, his voice warm and friendly. "One medium latte, please,” he placed his order, and you noticed how his eyes seemed to light up when they met yours.

"Coming right up," you nodded, trying to keep your composure, but inside, your heart was racing. 

And as you prepared his drink, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him again, feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach. When you then handed him the latte, he thanked you with that same sweet smile before turning to leave. The bell chimed again as he exited, and you found yourself staring after him once more, a small, hopeful smile on your lips.

The next time you saw Joseph was on Wednesday evening, when you were working an extra shift to earn a bit more money during the summer. The café was busier this time, with a steady stream of customers keeping you on your toes. Yet, as you were in the middle of making a cappuccino, you saw him walk in again, causing your heart to skip a beat, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

He waited patiently while you finished the order you were working on, and when it was his turn, you shared a silent moment of recognition. "Medium latte?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, please," he replied with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling. 

And as you yet again prepared his drink, you felt his gaze on you, and you couldn’t help but look up. Your eyes met, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world faded away. You then handed him his drink, and he offered a quiet thank you before turning to leave. Yet, just as he reached the door, he glanced back, catching you looking in his direction - causing you to quickly look away, feeling your cheeks flush.

"Shit…" you muttered to yourself, slightly embarrassed.

Over a week passed before you saw Joseph again, this time on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Most people were out enjoying the lovely weather, so the café was relatively quiet. And with only one other coworker busy chatting with a friend, you decided to pick up one of your favourite romance novels to pass the time.

You had no idea how long you had been absorbed in your book when a familiar, endearing voice suddenly broke into your dream world. "What are you reading?"

Startled, you looked up to see Joseph standing there, his handsome face alight with curiosity. "Oh, um… it’s just a silly romance… nothing special," you stammered, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"It must be pretty engaging if you were so absorbed," he chuckled. "I think I’ve been standing here for about ten minutes and you didn’t even notice me."

"Oh my god, I’m so sorry about that," you quickly apologised, feeling rather unprofessional.

But Joseph simply laughed, waving off your apology. "It’s fine. It was actually quite entertaining watching you read."

You felt your cheeks flush a little. "So… the usual?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation back to familiar ground.

"Yes, please. And maybe you could help me with something else…" he trailed off, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Sure, anything," you replied, curious.

"So, how many times do I have to come here and hope that you’re working before it doesn’t seem weird for me to ask for your name and number?" he asked, his tone playful yet sincere.

You found yourself gasping, completely caught off guard. "Well… um… maybe… this could be the final one?" you managed to say, a shy smile forming on your lips. “I’m y/n.” 

Joseph’s smile widened, and he handed you his phone. "Great. Here you go. I’m Joe by the way.” 

With trembling fingers, you then typed in your name and number, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. And as you handed his phone back, you couldn’t help but feel that this might be the beginning of something special, something that could finally make you believe in the kind of love you had always dreamed of.

_

Dating Joseph Woll turned out to be remarkably close to what you’d imagined from your romance novels, and it felt as though the universe had conspired to make your dreams come true. And with it being the hockey off-season, Joseph had plenty of time to spend with you, and he made every moment count.

Your early dates were a delightful blend of excitement and comfort. Joseph would pick you up with a thoughtful compliment and occasionally a bouquet of your favourite flowers. You visited cosy cafes, museums, explored Toronto’s hidden gems, and enjoyed long walks by the lake, where he’d hold your hand and listen intently to your stories and dreams.

One evening, he then surprised you with a picnic at a quiet spot in High Park. And as you sat together on a chequered blanket, sharing laughter and homemade sandwiches, you felt a deep sense of contentment. Joseph’s gentle, caring nature made you feel cherished in a way you’d never experienced before. His eyes often lingered on you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter, and every touch, every gentle kiss, felt like a promise of something beautiful and romantic.

Then during another one of your dates, you found yourself at a quaint bookstore. And as you browsed through the shelves, Joseph noticed you eyeing a romance novel. Quietly, while you were distracted, he decided to purchase it and later that evening, he presented it to you with a shy smile. "I thought you might enjoy this," he said, his eyes twinkling with delight. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you.

Except for one week when he had to go home to St. Louis, Joseph was always around. During that week, you missed him terribly, but he made sure the distance didn’t feel so great. You chatted or called every day, sharing the little details of your lives, your hopes, and your dreams. His voice over the phone was a comforting balm, and his laughter a melody that brightened your days. And as the days passed, you both exchanged pictures and videos, keeping the connection strong despite the miles between you.

And the week apart only strengthened your bond. When Joseph finally returned, he wrapped you in a tight embrace, lifting you off your feet as he whispered how much he had missed you. The separation had only made your hearts grow fonder, and you realised that this was the kind of love you had always dreamed of—a love that was patient, kind, and unwavering.

Joseph had a way of turning even the simplest moments into something magical. Whether you were cooking together, watching a movie, or simply enjoying a comfortable silence, he made you feel like the most important person in the world. His steadfast support and understanding helped you heal from the wounds of your past relationship, and for the first time in a long while, you felt genuinely happy. And as the summer days gave way to crisp autumn evenings, your relationship with Joseph only continued to flourish. 

_

However, as you and Joseph grew closer, he began to notice the subtle signs of your hesitation. Despite the kisses and intimate moments you shared, he observed how you occasionally tensed up or hesitated before fully relaxing into his embrace. There were times when, while wrapped in each other's arms, he could sense a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes or a momentary withdrawal in your touch. It was as if you were constantly bracing yourself, hesitant to fully surrender to the emotions you were feeling.

So, Joseph chose to approach you with a gentle patience that he didn’t mind at all. His priority was to make you feel completely at ease with him. He focused on ensuring that every touch was tender, every word was kind, and he never pressured you into anything more than you were ready to give. He believed in creating a space where you felt safe and cherished. Every date, every conversation, and every shared moment was filled with understanding and care. He became attuned to your needs, ensuring that his actions and words always conveyed his respect for your boundaries.

But one evening, as autumn shadows began to lengthen and the first hints of a chilly breeze crept through the open windows, something felt off. It might have been the stress of the new hockey season starting or perhaps the quiet, introspective mood you’d been in all night. Joseph couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of your discomfort, but he could sense that something was troubling you. 

So, as you both sat on the couch, the soft glow of the TV casting a gentle light over the room, he turned to you. His expression was serious yet full of concern.

“You can rest your head on me, love, I don’t mind,” he said softly, his voice laced with genuine care. “Or if you need to cry or just need a moment to relax. I don't care. I just want you to feel comfortable and happy with me.”

His words cut through the fog of your thoughts, and you felt a pang in your chest. It was clear that Joseph was offering you an emotional sanctuary, and you knew it was time to open up. You took a deep breath, feeling the warmth and reassurance of his embrace, and finally allowed yourself to lean into him.

“I’ve been cautious about fully committing because of a bad relationship I had before,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “Not that I think you’re anything like that. On the contrary, you’re so perfect that I’m scared of making a mistake.”

Joseph listened attentively, his hand gently stroking your back as you spoke. When you finished, he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a blend of warmth and understanding.

“You don’t have to worry about making mistakes, Y/N,” he said softly. “I want you just the way you are—past relationships and all.”

You exhaled slowly, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability. “But why? Why are you so patient with me?”

The tenderness in his gaze was unmistakable, and his smile was both gentle and reassuring. “I get it now,” he said quietly, “you’ve never been in love before.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confusion knitting your brows together.

“Y/N, you could never do anything wrong with me. I am so in love with you that it doesn’t matter what you say or do, as long as it’s not that you don’t want to be with me. All I want is to be with you, to see you happy. And when you’re ready, I’d love to ask you to be my girlfriend.”

You couldn’t help but feel your heart sink as you took in the moment. Here was the sweetest man you’d ever known, and he was with you. The realisation of his unwavering support and love brought tears to your eyes.

“I think… I think I’m in love with you too, Joe,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “You make me feel all those wonderful, amazing, mind-blowing, and indescribable things that no one else ever has.”

Joseph’s smile widened, his eyes shimmering with joy. He pulled you closer, his lips gently brushing your forehead. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear,” he murmured. “I promise to always be here for you, to make you feel loved and cherished every single day.”

And as you nestled into his embrace, a profound sense of peace washed over you. For the first time, you let yourself fully believe in the love you had always dreamed of, knowing that with Joseph, it was not just a dream, but a beautiful reality.

[leafs-lover]

Too Far Gone - The Contract

A/N: Can't write part 55 to save my life 😭 but we have another unedited bonus chapter, giving you a little glimpse into their life in the future. If you're not reading the fic, don't worry this is a stand alone piece.

Warnings: Smut (p in v, creampie), dirty talk, swearing, mentions of drinking, not really edited

Series masterlist

Word Count: 3100

Tia tried not to give too much thought to Auston’s contract, the media and fans were doing enough of that.

She had enough going on in her life. Maddie had started to sleep through the night then she started teething. Taylour was wild and energetic, always busy with Felix, wanting to see Brody from down the street or Carter from his class, and still impartial to Maddie. He might have stopped asking “when is she leaving’ but he has shown no interest in his sibling, sometimes becoming frustrated when his parents are busy changing her diaper and need a minute before giving him attention.

Tia has read books, spent hours online reading blogs and stories from other moms in similar situations, trying everything to get them to bond without forcing it, and it’s just not working. She always saw herself with a big family, but more importantly a loving family, how can they be one when Taylour is generally disinterested in her? 

And if it’s not the kids, or Felix’s limp that sporadically appears for a few hours, it’s her line. She used TikTok to advertise and sales erupted. She found herself with a massive list of pending orders, stores in Montreal, Toronto, Brooklyn, and Scottsdale were reaching out to stock her pieces. Made with Grace expanded from a spare room with a sewing machine, to a studio space with a business manager, marketing manager and two additional seamstresses, but even then she doesn’t feel like she can keep up.

So, when Tia told people she didn’t really have time to stress over his contract, she wasn’t lying. It’s not to say they hadn’t talked about their future; they just hadn’t sat down and fully weighed out the options.

She told Auston she would follow him anywhere, that they’d be happy so long as they were together, and she meant every single word but Toronto is a part of her, a part of them, and it would break her to leave it all behind. It’s where both of their children were born, where Taylour learned to walk and talk, where Maddie will learn all those things, where they found each other but more importantly themselves.

Tia wanted Auston to be as objective as possible with his decision, but she knew she had to tell him of her preference.

“And right here.” Judd points to the line at the bottom of the page and Auston once again scribbles his signature. He then flips the final page over, then smiles.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.” Judd nods. “You are going to be a Maple Leaf for four more years.”

Auston did give some thought to free agency. There are a few teams that have the cap space to meet his needs, and those that don’t would likely move some parts to make it work. He had options, lots of options, but none of them would send him down York Street after practice, right past her studio. And if he didn’t drive past then studio then he couldn’t stop in and raid her snack drawer, lie about needing a button fixed just to sneak in a kiss or two, or just watch his wife hard at work. He wouldn’t be able to take Maddie and Felix on walks through the park where he first felt Tia come back to him, nor could he drive past his old condo where they finally said what they had been holding onto for so long. They couldn’t go to dinner at Beck’s and Camille’s condo, which is actually Tia’s old condo, and see the exact spot where he first held Taylour.

Toronto is home. That was the only reason he needed.

 “Tia and the family must be excited.”

“They will be.” Auston smiles wide and grabs at the beak of his hat to adjust it. “I decided to keep this from them, thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

“It will be.” The two men move toward the door where Judd slips into his shoes. “Don’t celebrate too much,” he winks, then steps outside, leaving Auston alone.

He quickly whips his phone from his pocket and opens twitter. Without so much as a second thought he types up a tweet, his first tweet since March. The second he posts the tweet; he is sharing it on his Instagram then heads for the sliding door.

The Arizona heat blasts his face the second the door opens. Felix’s nails on the concrete are heard as he eagerly scurries over from the pool, leaving wet pawprints all over the patio. Auston crouches down and scratches him behind the ears and chuckles when his warm tongue presses to his cheek.

“I know, I’m excited too.” Auston grins, scratching the pups head. “Should we go tell them?” Felix’s tail wags faster and he lets out an excited yip. “Yeah? Let’s go.”

“Hey T.” Auston starts as he sits on the edge of the pool and dangles his feet in the water, Felix plops down beside him for more pets.

“Hey, how was your meeting?” Tia wades through the waist deep water with Maddie on her hip and makes her way to the edge. When Maddie sees Auston her tiny fists open and close, and some incoherent babbles come from her lips. “Is that Daddy?” Tia bounces her a few times before handing Maddie over to him.

“Hi princess.” Auston hooks his arms under her armpits, then brings her in close, peppering her with kisses, hoping to hear one of those giggles she had been letting out as of late. “Meeting was good.” Auston blows a raspberry to her stomach, laughing when her legs kick out.

“Daddy, watch!” Taylour stands at the edge of the pool with his toes hanging over. His arms go up above his head, and he jumps into the air and dives into the water. When he pops his head up a few seconds later, he spits out some water and smiles.

“Wow, you’re getting good at that.” Auston replies, adjusting the brim of Maddie’s bucket hat to fold up and be out of her eyes.

“You weren’t even watching; you were paying attention to Maddie.” Taylour protests.

“I can do both Taylour.” Auston informs him. “But why don’t you show me another one?”

“Fine.” Taylour rolls his eyes and starts swimming to the edge of the pool.

“Hopefully you gave Maddie less sass than him,” Auston jokes. This time he cradles Maddie in close and locks his gaze on Taylour as he positions himself at the pools edge to dive again.

“It’s not funny.” Tia mutters while clapping for Taylour when he pokes his head up after another dive.

“Your dives are great Taylour, arms are really straight.” Auston encourage him.

“Mhm.” He proudly smiles while treading water. “You want to play basketball?”

“Give me five minutes and I’ll get my bathing suit on.”

“Okay.” He swims over to the shallow end to retrieve the basketball, that catches Felix’s attention and he jumps in the pool, splashing the three of them, and starts to swim over to Taylour.

“His reaction is perfectly normal, he is adjusting, just at his own speed. You see Instagram?”

“When would I have seen Instagram?” Tia laughs.

Auston unlocks his phone and hands it to her, forcing her focus away from Taylour. Her forehead creases and lips purse as she scrolls through the posts, wondering what exactly she is supposed to be looking for. “Yeah, Mommy is silly, isn’t she?” Auston uses his baby voice to ask Maddie when she coos in his arms. Unable to wait any longer, he takes the phone back and clicks on his story.

She closes his story, then opens the Toronto Maple Leafs page and sees nothing. She searches Wasserman hockey, but again there is nothing, along with Sportsnet, TSN and ESPN. She keeps opening pages, trying to find confirmation of his somewhat cryptic post. Fed up, Auston snatches his phone back which brings her gaze to him.

“You re-signed?” She asks, in disbelief.

“Yeah.”

Butterflies swarm her stomach. “Four years?” 

“Yeah.”

“And you broke the story before anyone else?”

“I was excited.” Auston shrugs, letting his smile grow even wider.

Tia puts her hand on either side of his thighs and pushes herself up. Beads of water roll over her breasts - larger than normal from breastfeeding - down over her stomach and baby weight she can’t seem to shake no matter how hard she tries. Once at eye level with him, Tia presses her lips to his, joyful tears clinging to the corners of her lashes. With Maddie in one hand, Auston brings his other to her hair, wet from the afternoon in the pool, and welcomes the kiss. It’s soft at first but slowly builds to more, his fingers tighten in her hair and her tongue move about his mouth. He can feel the relief wash over her body.

“I’m so happy.” She whispers, choking back tears. “I really wanted to stay.”

“I know.” Of course, he knew. “But you should have told me.”

“Everyone had opinions, I wanted you to make the best decision for your career.”

Auston runs his thumb along her jaw. “You’re the only opinion that matters to me.” 

**

Tia dressed herself in a flowy maroon dress with thick straps. It stopped right at her knee and had a slit that went a few inches up her thigh. She pulled her hair into a simple but stunning bun and managed to apply a little bit of make-up before Maddie woke up from her nap. She fed and changed her, then put Maddie in the newly released mauve coloured polka dot dress with ruffled sleeves along with the matching headband.

She wasn’t overly dressed up (that wasn’t an easy task with unexpected dinner plans and a five-month-old) but the second Auston saw his girls his breath was taken away. He kissed her, almost a little too hard and long, but pulled away then helped load the kids in the car.

They met his family at Modern Oyster Bar & Chophouse. Auston reserved part of the restaurant which provided privacy for their celebration. Tia and Auston kept their phones on silent and tucked away - everybody who knew them was texting to congratulate them, and they just wanted to enjoy the night. And tucked under his arm with cheeks sore from smiling, Tia was doing just that. 

“We’re staying in Toronto?” Taylour probes.

While he begs Tia to take him to every game (even road ones), plays hockey, will show Auston YouTube clips and basically lives and breathes the sport, trades and free agency is all very new to him. He doesn’t understand why Uncle Mike isn’t going to be in Toronto anymore, why he has pictures of Daddy and Uncle Freddie both wearing Leafs jerseys, yet Fred plays for another team, and he certainly doesn’t grasp that there was the potential for them to leave Toronto.

“You sure are.” Brian tells him, gently bouncing Maddie on his thigh, smiling as drool rolls down her chin.

“Maybe without that stress you two can plan your wedding.” Ema beams over her glass of wine.

Auston feels Tia’s body stiffen ever so slightly, but he just laughs. Since the day Auston told his mom he was going to propose Ema has been asking about wedding plans. Once Tia had said yes, she became relentless, never missing an opportunity to ask when the date will be. She understood why they didn’t plan it for last summer given the uncertainty COVID brought and kind of let up once they announced their pregnancy with Maddie, but on more than one occasion Ema brought up how there was months between Tia’s due date and the summer. When Tia and Auston told her they just wanted to enjoy this time as a family without the added stress of planning a wedding, she understood, then tried to get them to lock down a date in 2024.

“Yeah. Maybe.” Auston shrugs.

“Have you even looked at venues?” Brey asks, not in a curious way but a condescending and annoyed way.

She always has been skeptical of their “engagement.” Given her brother declared he was going to marry Tia after one date, FaceTimed with the family at least a dozen times while out shopping for rings because it had to be just right, blew up the family group chat making sure everyone knew not to say anything and to act normal so she wouldn’t suspect anything, then spent the entire day pacing and on the phone ensuring every single detail was perfect, she expected a very short engagement. So, when they reply “we’re not in a rush” anytime someone asks, accidentally call each other husband or wife only to backpedal and say something along the lines of ‘we live together and have kids, were basically married’ it didn’t make sense, and Brey is determined to get the truth out of them.

Auston drops his lips to Tia’s ear and whispers, “should we just tell them?”

Tia cranes her head and squeezes his hand under the table. “No.”

He gently kisses her. “You sure? Make this a lot easier?”

“Make what easier?” Brey cocks her head and narrows her gaze.

Tia and Auston smile at each other as she mindlessly spins the black metal ring on his index finger. The ring she put there over two years ago when they did get married less than 24 hours after getting engaged, because neither one of them wanted to wait. But because all their friends and family couldn’t be there, they kept it a secret. That’s why Tia doesn’t wear her wedding band outside the house (except when she forgets to take it off) and why Auston wears his wedding band is on the index finger and not the ring finger.

Auston turns to Brey with heat flaring behind his cheeks and playfully smirks. “Nothing.”

**

The kids went to his parents and Auston and Tia ubered home. One glass of wine lead to two, which lead to three, and that was where Tia stopped. Her tolerance had dropped since having Maddie and anymore would have made her a mess and Tia didn’t want to be a mess tonight (unless the mess was made from Auston’s cum).

It didn’t take long for them to get to bed, and it was even less time until his head was buried between her legs, greedily bringing orgasm after orgasm to her. When she finally made him stop because her legs were trembling and vision was turning white, Tia found herself on her knees, attempting to return the favour, but Auston didn’t let her finish. At the last second, he roughly grabbed her hair and brought her in for an incredibly sloppy kiss.

“Lie down.” Auston instructs her, nipping at her lower lip.

“No.” Tia breathes out before roughly pressing her lips to his.

“T -”

“I said no.” Tia repeats, then yelps when Auston spanks her.

“I signed the contract; I should get to decide how we celebrate.” His voice is thick and gravelly, as he tries to maintain control. 

“I gave birth to your children so if I say I’m not getting on my back…”Tia pushes away from him and sits on her heels. “I’m not getting on my back.” 

Auston shifts on the mattress, his shoulders cracking in the process. This dominant behaviour from his wife is new and relatively uncommon, but fuck does it ever turn him on.

In one quick motion Tia spins and puts her back to him with her knees on either side of his hips. Using her hand, she strokes his throbbing cock over her entrance, coating it in her slick. He grabs at her ass cheeks, the only thing he can, and they both moan when she fills herself with his length.

“Shit baby.” Auston chuckles. Tia starts to move, up and down on his cock, getting faster and faster while her ass bounces along with her.  “You feel so good.”

“You always fuck me so good.” Tia cries when Auston moves his hips.

“Isn’t that what a good husband should do?” He spanks her again then grunts as her pussy tightens around his cock. “Properly fuck their wife?” He thrusts upward, wincing as she claws at his thighs for support.

“Yes.” Tia whines. Auston slaps her ass one more time for good measure then grabs at her hips. He has no intentions of trying to control the pace, she is doing that just fine on her own, he just wants to touch her. He always wants to touch her.

“So, I’m just doing my job Mrs. Matthews.”

Tia’s walls pulsate around him. She loves when he calls her that almost as much as he loves saying it. She wishes they could announce it to the world, then she could legally change her name to match him and their children, even Felix has his last name. Most of the people in their lives would be so happy they wouldn’t even care about missing one of the biggest moments of their lives. Not Ema. She of course would be happy, but she would be disappointed to have been excluded and Tia she can’t live knowing she disappointed the only mother she’s ever had.

“Making sure my wife is taken care of.”

Tia flips her hair to look back at him over her shoulder and whispers in the most innocent of voices, “keep it up and I’m gonna ask you to put another baby in me.”

Auston lets out a shaky exhale, he loved watching Tia be pregnant.

He lifts his hips up, making her fall forward until she is gripping his knees for stability. “I’ll do it.” Auston smacks her ass once again, earning himself a loud, excited yelp. “You just tell me when.”

At this point, Tia didn’t know how Auston was keeping it together, she didn’t know how she was keeping it together. Every single thrust was perfectly placed, brushing up against her g-spot, nudging her closer and closer to her release. Her nails were carved into his thighs, sweat was rolling down her back, down his chest, the sounds coming from their lips were feral, animalistic, but they kept fucking.

He watches himself disappear inside her walls a few more times then grips her hips and holds her on his member, pouring his hot, sticky seed inside – just the way she likes. Her walls grasp and hug his cock, and she can’t help when her eyes see static.

It takes a few minutes for either one to move. There is a lot of panting and muttering of curse words, hands gingerly trailing over the others sticky skin. But when Tia finally finds the strength to lift herself off his now softened cock, Auston wraps his arms around her body and pins her tight to his chest.

“I love you T.” His voice is hoarse.

“I love you too, Aus.” 

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