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We looked inside some of the posts by nyl88ndrs and here's what we found interesting.
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Reblog Per Post
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31 minutes
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STOOPPP i’m printing this out and tucking it under my pillow like it’s a secret note from my crush. you’re the sweetest ever !!! come here and take ur kiss IMMEDIATELY 🤍💋💋
voicemails bf!luke would send you!
voicemail #1 — 11:52pm, 0:47
"hi- i think i might be a little tipsy. just a little. like... a healthy amount i think. jack made me do a shot after the game, and then someone opened a bottle of champagne, and now i'm in bed with my shoes still on and i miss you so bad it actually hurts."
"you should've seen the goal tonight, baby. i know you watched it, you always do, but it's not the same when i can't see your reaction. like, you'd probably do that little clap you do? and that smile where your nose scrunches? god. i wish i could've seen that. i wish i was watching you watching me."
he sighs softly and lets out a breathy laugh "sorry, that was cheesy. but whatever. drunk luke's allowed to be cheesy. it's like... one of the perks. you get voicemail confessions."
"anyways i'm lying on the hotel bed, and it's too cold, and i keep looking over like you're gonna be there, in my hoodie, hogging the blanket. and i just—i miss you. and i feel like i'm here, but not all here, you know?"
"okay. i should sleep. or hydrate. maybe both. call me when you wake up, pretty girl. i love you."
voicemail #2 — 1:16am, 1:21
"hi. i know you probably don't want to hear from me right now. and i wouldn't either, if i were you. but i had to say something."
there's a long pause. his breathing a little uneven - you can hear him swallowing hard, like he's trying to hold himself together. "i keep replaying it in my head. what i said. how you looked at me when you walked away. i've never felt so-fuck. i don't even know the word for it."
"¡ hate this. i hate that i made you feel like you couldn't talk to me. like i wasn't hearing you. and i was, i promise. i just... i got defensive. i always do. it's stupid. i'm so fucking stupid sometimes."
"you always make me want to be better. not just for you — for me, too. but especially for you. and now it just feels like maybe this time... maybe i really pushed too far. like you're slipping away, and i don't know how to stop it."
"I'm sorry. i'm so fucking sorry, baby. i don't know how to fix it yet, but i will. i swear i will. just- please don't shut me out. i'm not okay without you. i don't know how to be."
voicemail #3 — 4:08pm, 0:36
"okay, wait. i have to tell you this because it's ridiculous and you need to know." he's already giggling. soft, but infectious.
"jack just took a full-on dive because of a grape. like, one little grape on the floor, and bam. he's down. i'm not even exaggerating."
"it's honestly impressive, the way he manages to turn the simplest things into a slapstick comedy show. if you ever want a reason to smile, just watch him try to walk through a room with anything even remotely slippery."
"i swear, sometimes i wonder if he's training for some secret grape-slipping olympics and forgot to tell us."
he lets out a soft laugh,
"you'd probably laugh way harder than me. i miss laughing with you like that. it's the best thing ever."
"anyway. just thought you should know the current state of the world here. hope you're having a better day than jack's grape situation. i love you."
voicemail #4 — 2:39am, 0:58
"hey." his voice is quiet, like the way it is in the morning, and before he goes to bed at night, "it's late. way too late. but i can't sleep. it's like —my brain won't shut off, and every time i close my eyes, all i see is you. like you're right here."
"and i keep reaching over in bed and... nothing. just cold sheets and your side empty."
"it's dumb, i know. but it feels like there's this space inside me that only you fill. and right now, it's just... echoing." he sighs softly.
"i keep thinking about your laugh. the way your hair falls over your face when you're sleepy. how you curl into me like it's the safest place on earth."
"i'm sorry i'm rambling. i didn't want to make this sad — or sappy. i just— i wanted you to know that even when you're not here, i'm holding on. to you. to us." his voice is quiet and hopeful in a way that's so him.
"call me when you wake up, okay? i love you. so much."
voicemail #5 — 8:56pm, 1:03
"hi, baby." his voice is soft — you can hear the hum of the car underneath it, his blinker clicking faintly in the background.
"i'm driving over. i know you said i didn't have to, but— yeah. i couldn't wait till tomorrow. i missed you too much."
"i was just about to pass the turn onto your street, and 'feels like' came on. you know, that gracie abrams song you always make me play when we're driving at night? the one you sing all dramatic like you're onstage?" he lets out a quiet laugh
"yeah. that one. it started playing and i don't know-everything just slowed down."
"i always think of you when i hear it. but not in a sad way. more like... like i can already see you. waiting at the door for me. hair all messy. wrapped up in that stupid blanket you love. smiling like i'm home." he exhales softly, then adds, quieter
"it makes me feel really lucky, you know? to love someone who feels like this." another pause. a little giggle - warm, boyish.
"okay. that was cheesy. but i meant it. i always mean it with you."
"'ll be there soon. don't fall asleep yet, i love you."
voicemail #6 — 9:27pm, 1:16
"baby," he's already laughing when the voicemail starts - that soft, breathy kind that sounds like he's smiling too wide to talk properly.
"okay. i just watched that video again. the one where you're making pancakes in my hoodie and dancing around like a little idiot while i'm filming from the couch?"
"¡ forgot about it until now. it just popped up in my camera roll and -i think i actually stopped breathing for a second."
he's quiet for a beat, then adds,
"you looked so happy. like the world didn't exist outside that little kitchen. and i remember thinking right then —'this is it. she's it."
"it's stupid, right? how a two-minute video can wreck me like that? but it does. it always does. i see you in my hoodie, hair all messy, humming along to whatever song was playing, and it's like... god. how did i get this lucky?"
he sighs, still smiling
"¡ don't need a video to remember how much i love you, but-i don't know. it's nice to have proof. like little time capsules of us being us."
"¡ love you. i love you more than i can say in a stupid voicemail. but i'll keep trying anyway."
voicemail #7 — 6:11pm, 0:44
“okay. okay. you need to sit down for this. like—actually sit.”
he’s already wheezing with laughter when he starts
“so we’re all sitting in the locker room, right? just chilling, stretching, whatever. and somehow we start talking about space. no idea how it started, i blacked out the first half of the conversation.”
“and then this guy—seamus—goes: ‘bro, i thought the moon was just a reflection of the sun off the ocean.’”he bursts out laughing again — full-on giggles now, nearly breathless, “off the ocean. like the moon is just the sun bouncing off a puddle or something.”
“i had to bite my jersey to stop myself from laughing in his face. i swear to god. i’m still not over it. you’re gonna bring this up randomly next week and i’m gonna lose it all over again.”
he sighs dramatically, calming down just a bit,
“anyway. that’s the end of today’s science lesson. can’t wait to tell our future kids that their dad plays with people who think the moon is ocean glitter.”
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hallie !! i love seeing you in my notifications so so much and i’m glad your break was spent well !!! i love you and YOUR talented brain 🤍🤍🤍
voicemails bf!luke would send you!
voicemail #1 — 11:52pm, 0:47
"hi- i think i might be a little tipsy. just a little. like... a healthy amount i think. jack made me do a shot after the game, and then someone opened a bottle of champagne, and now i'm in bed with my shoes still on and i miss you so bad it actually hurts."
"you should've seen the goal tonight, baby. i know you watched it, you always do, but it's not the same when i can't see your reaction. like, you'd probably do that little clap you do? and that smile where your nose scrunches? god. i wish i could've seen that. i wish i was watching you watching me."
he sighs softly and lets out a breathy laugh "sorry, that was cheesy. but whatever. drunk luke's allowed to be cheesy. it's like... one of the perks. you get voicemail confessions."
"anyways i'm lying on the hotel bed, and it's too cold, and i keep looking over like you're gonna be there, in my hoodie, hogging the blanket. and i just—i miss you. and i feel like i'm here, but not all here, you know?"
"okay. i should sleep. or hydrate. maybe both. call me when you wake up, pretty girl. i love you."
voicemail #2 — 1:16am, 1:21
"hi. i know you probably don't want to hear from me right now. and i wouldn't either, if i were you. but i had to say something."
there's a long pause. his breathing a little uneven - you can hear him swallowing hard, like he's trying to hold himself together. "i keep replaying it in my head. what i said. how you looked at me when you walked away. i've never felt so-fuck. i don't even know the word for it."
"¡ hate this. i hate that i made you feel like you couldn't talk to me. like i wasn't hearing you. and i was, i promise. i just... i got defensive. i always do. it's stupid. i'm so fucking stupid sometimes."
"you always make me want to be better. not just for you — for me, too. but especially for you. and now it just feels like maybe this time... maybe i really pushed too far. like you're slipping away, and i don't know how to stop it."
"I'm sorry. i'm so fucking sorry, baby. i don't know how to fix it yet, but i will. i swear i will. just- please don't shut me out. i'm not okay without you. i don't know how to be."
voicemail #3 — 4:08pm, 0:36
"okay, wait. i have to tell you this because it's ridiculous and you need to know." he's already giggling. soft, but infectious.
"jack just took a full-on dive because of a grape. like, one little grape on the floor, and bam. he's down. i'm not even exaggerating."
"it's honestly impressive, the way he manages to turn the simplest things into a slapstick comedy show. if you ever want a reason to smile, just watch him try to walk through a room with anything even remotely slippery."
"i swear, sometimes i wonder if he's training for some secret grape-slipping olympics and forgot to tell us."
he lets out a soft laugh,
"you'd probably laugh way harder than me. i miss laughing with you like that. it's the best thing ever."
"anyway. just thought you should know the current state of the world here. hope you're having a better day than jack's grape situation. i love you."
voicemail #4 — 2:39am, 0:58
"hey." his voice is quiet, like the way it is in the morning, and before he goes to bed at night, "it's late. way too late. but i can't sleep. it's like —my brain won't shut off, and every time i close my eyes, all i see is you. like you're right here."
"and i keep reaching over in bed and... nothing. just cold sheets and your side empty."
"it's dumb, i know. but it feels like there's this space inside me that only you fill. and right now, it's just... echoing." he sighs softly.
"i keep thinking about your laugh. the way your hair falls over your face when you're sleepy. how you curl into me like it's the safest place on earth."
"i'm sorry i'm rambling. i didn't want to make this sad — or sappy. i just— i wanted you to know that even when you're not here, i'm holding on. to you. to us." his voice is quiet and hopeful in a way that's so him.
"call me when you wake up, okay? i love you. so much."
voicemail #5 — 8:56pm, 1:03
"hi, baby." his voice is soft — you can hear the hum of the car underneath it, his blinker clicking faintly in the background.
"i'm driving over. i know you said i didn't have to, but— yeah. i couldn't wait till tomorrow. i missed you too much."
"i was just about to pass the turn onto your street, and 'feels like' came on. you know, that gracie abrams song you always make me play when we're driving at night? the one you sing all dramatic like you're onstage?" he lets out a quiet laugh
"yeah. that one. it started playing and i don't know-everything just slowed down."
"i always think of you when i hear it. but not in a sad way. more like... like i can already see you. waiting at the door for me. hair all messy. wrapped up in that stupid blanket you love. smiling like i'm home." he exhales softly, then adds, quieter
"it makes me feel really lucky, you know? to love someone who feels like this." another pause. a little giggle - warm, boyish.
"okay. that was cheesy. but i meant it. i always mean it with you."
"'ll be there soon. don't fall asleep yet, i love you."
voicemail #6 — 9:27pm, 1:16
"baby," he's already laughing when the voicemail starts - that soft, breathy kind that sounds like he's smiling too wide to talk properly.
"okay. i just watched that video again. the one where you're making pancakes in my hoodie and dancing around like a little idiot while i'm filming from the couch?"
"¡ forgot about it until now. it just popped up in my camera roll and -i think i actually stopped breathing for a second."
he's quiet for a beat, then adds,
"you looked so happy. like the world didn't exist outside that little kitchen. and i remember thinking right then —'this is it. she's it."
"it's stupid, right? how a two-minute video can wreck me like that? but it does. it always does. i see you in my hoodie, hair all messy, humming along to whatever song was playing, and it's like... god. how did i get this lucky?"
he sighs, still smiling
"¡ don't need a video to remember how much i love you, but-i don't know. it's nice to have proof. like little time capsules of us being us."
"¡ love you. i love you more than i can say in a stupid voicemail. but i'll keep trying anyway."
voicemail #7 — 6:11pm, 0:44
“okay. okay. you need to sit down for this. like—actually sit.”
he’s already wheezing with laughter when he starts
“so we’re all sitting in the locker room, right? just chilling, stretching, whatever. and somehow we start talking about space. no idea how it started, i blacked out the first half of the conversation.”
“and then this guy—seamus—goes: ‘bro, i thought the moon was just a reflection of the sun off the ocean.’”he bursts out laughing again — full-on giggles now, nearly breathless, “off the ocean. like the moon is just the sun bouncing off a puddle or something.”
“i had to bite my jersey to stop myself from laughing in his face. i swear to god. i’m still not over it. you’re gonna bring this up randomly next week and i’m gonna lose it all over again.”
he sighs dramatically, calming down just a bit,
“anyway. that’s the end of today’s science lesson. can’t wait to tell our future kids that their dad plays with people who think the moon is ocean glitter.”
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MAGGIE !! you are the sweetest ever i’m so glad you liked it and saw my vision 🤍 this means the absolute world to me i love you!!!
voicemails bf!luke would send you!
voicemail #1 — 11:52pm, 0:47
"hi- i think i might be a little tipsy. just a little. like... a healthy amount i think. jack made me do a shot after the game, and then someone opened a bottle of champagne, and now i'm in bed with my shoes still on and i miss you so bad it actually hurts."
"you should've seen the goal tonight, baby. i know you watched it, you always do, but it's not the same when i can't see your reaction. like, you'd probably do that little clap you do? and that smile where your nose scrunches? god. i wish i could've seen that. i wish i was watching you watching me."
he sighs softly and lets out a breathy laugh "sorry, that was cheesy. but whatever. drunk luke's allowed to be cheesy. it's like... one of the perks. you get voicemail confessions."
"anyways i'm lying on the hotel bed, and it's too cold, and i keep looking over like you're gonna be there, in my hoodie, hogging the blanket. and i just—i miss you. and i feel like i'm here, but not all here, you know?"
"okay. i should sleep. or hydrate. maybe both. call me when you wake up, pretty girl. i love you."
voicemail #2 — 1:16am, 1:21
"hi. i know you probably don't want to hear from me right now. and i wouldn't either, if i were you. but i had to say something."
there's a long pause. his breathing a little uneven - you can hear him swallowing hard, like he's trying to hold himself together. "i keep replaying it in my head. what i said. how you looked at me when you walked away. i've never felt so-fuck. i don't even know the word for it."
"¡ hate this. i hate that i made you feel like you couldn't talk to me. like i wasn't hearing you. and i was, i promise. i just... i got defensive. i always do. it's stupid. i'm so fucking stupid sometimes."
"you always make me want to be better. not just for you — for me, too. but especially for you. and now it just feels like maybe this time... maybe i really pushed too far. like you're slipping away, and i don't know how to stop it."
"I'm sorry. i'm so fucking sorry, baby. i don't know how to fix it yet, but i will. i swear i will. just- please don't shut me out. i'm not okay without you. i don't know how to be."
voicemail #3 — 4:08pm, 0:36
"okay, wait. i have to tell you this because it's ridiculous and you need to know." he's already giggling. soft, but infectious.
"jack just took a full-on dive because of a grape. like, one little grape on the floor, and bam. he's down. i'm not even exaggerating."
"it's honestly impressive, the way he manages to turn the simplest things into a slapstick comedy show. if you ever want a reason to smile, just watch him try to walk through a room with anything even remotely slippery."
"i swear, sometimes i wonder if he's training for some secret grape-slipping olympics and forgot to tell us."
he lets out a soft laugh,
"you'd probably laugh way harder than me. i miss laughing with you like that. it's the best thing ever."
"anyway. just thought you should know the current state of the world here. hope you're having a better day than jack's grape situation. i love you."
voicemail #4 — 2:39am, 0:58
"hey." his voice is quiet, like the way it is in the morning, and before he goes to bed at night, "it's late. way too late. but i can't sleep. it's like —my brain won't shut off, and every time i close my eyes, all i see is you. like you're right here."
"and i keep reaching over in bed and... nothing. just cold sheets and your side empty."
"it's dumb, i know. but it feels like there's this space inside me that only you fill. and right now, it's just... echoing." he sighs softly.
"i keep thinking about your laugh. the way your hair falls over your face when you're sleepy. how you curl into me like it's the safest place on earth."
"i'm sorry i'm rambling. i didn't want to make this sad — or sappy. i just— i wanted you to know that even when you're not here, i'm holding on. to you. to us." his voice is quiet and hopeful in a way that's so him.
"call me when you wake up, okay? i love you. so much."
voicemail #5 — 8:56pm, 1:03
"hi, baby." his voice is soft — you can hear the hum of the car underneath it, his blinker clicking faintly in the background.
"i'm driving over. i know you said i didn't have to, but— yeah. i couldn't wait till tomorrow. i missed you too much."
"i was just about to pass the turn onto your street, and 'feels like' came on. you know, that gracie abrams song you always make me play when we're driving at night? the one you sing all dramatic like you're onstage?" he lets out a quiet laugh
"yeah. that one. it started playing and i don't know-everything just slowed down."
"i always think of you when i hear it. but not in a sad way. more like... like i can already see you. waiting at the door for me. hair all messy. wrapped up in that stupid blanket you love. smiling like i'm home." he exhales softly, then adds, quieter
"it makes me feel really lucky, you know? to love someone who feels like this." another pause. a little giggle - warm, boyish.
"okay. that was cheesy. but i meant it. i always mean it with you."
"'ll be there soon. don't fall asleep yet, i love you."
voicemail #6 — 9:27pm, 1:16
"baby," he's already laughing when the voicemail starts - that soft, breathy kind that sounds like he's smiling too wide to talk properly.
"okay. i just watched that video again. the one where you're making pancakes in my hoodie and dancing around like a little idiot while i'm filming from the couch?"
"¡ forgot about it until now. it just popped up in my camera roll and -i think i actually stopped breathing for a second."
he's quiet for a beat, then adds,
"you looked so happy. like the world didn't exist outside that little kitchen. and i remember thinking right then —'this is it. she's it."
"it's stupid, right? how a two-minute video can wreck me like that? but it does. it always does. i see you in my hoodie, hair all messy, humming along to whatever song was playing, and it's like... god. how did i get this lucky?"
he sighs, still smiling
"¡ don't need a video to remember how much i love you, but-i don't know. it's nice to have proof. like little time capsules of us being us."
"¡ love you. i love you more than i can say in a stupid voicemail. but i'll keep trying anyway."
voicemail #7 — 6:11pm, 0:44
“okay. okay. you need to sit down for this. like—actually sit.”
he’s already wheezing with laughter when he starts
“so we’re all sitting in the locker room, right? just chilling, stretching, whatever. and somehow we start talking about space. no idea how it started, i blacked out the first half of the conversation.”
“and then this guy—seamus—goes: ‘bro, i thought the moon was just a reflection of the sun off the ocean.’”he bursts out laughing again — full-on giggles now, nearly breathless, “off the ocean. like the moon is just the sun bouncing off a puddle or something.”
“i had to bite my jersey to stop myself from laughing in his face. i swear to god. i’m still not over it. you’re gonna bring this up randomly next week and i’m gonna lose it all over again.”
he sighs dramatically, calming down just a bit,
“anyway. that’s the end of today’s science lesson. can’t wait to tell our future kids that their dad plays with people who think the moon is ocean glitter.”
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just watched mitch try on the knights jersey infront of the organisation while smiling and laughing and i feel like i’ve just watched my ex get with my sworn enemy. i think the real heartbreak was watching MILES in a knights jersey too 💔💔💔
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STOP WITH HIS GODSON AND BROCK?!?!?!THAT'S WAY TOO MUCH FOR ME
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call me a cardio thoracic surgeon the way i just performed open heart surgery on a chickens heart
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if i had a nickel for every time a red bull athlete being dropped from their boyhood team emotionally scarred me, i’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it’s happened twice now. and by weird i mean devastating .
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toronto maple leafs and “there is love in this story”.
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my hair looks so dead if i don’t straighten it but it’s only dead bec i keep straightening it… can i LIVE
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the way that we’ve all been living in perpetual dread for the past several months just for Brock to end up re-signing with Vancouver LMAOOOO
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jokes over vegas can we have mitch back now pls
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brock resigning is like the light at the end of a very dark tunnel i don’t think i’ve ever been more grateful for patrik allvin
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GOD BLESS VANCOUVER AND GM PATRIK ALLVIN BROCK BOESER YOU ARE A VANCOUVER CANUCK!!
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the dead wife montage
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mitch leaving the leafs has me feeling like i did when zayn left 1d i’m not even kidding
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