#1k cele bakery

[senditcolton]

could i also request a moodboard for going on vacation with mat barzal??

okay, this might be my favorite moodboard I have ever created.

[senditcolton]

Oak with Brock Boeser because that man has been THRU it (emotionally)

oh this man really does need a long hug and I would be happy to be the one to give him one. soft blurb incoming for this soft boy!

word count: 1k

There were so many things you loved about your boyfriend Brock. If you were to make a handwritten list, it may as well span across the Pacific Ocean.

You loved his smile, his compassion, his drive. But the thing you loved the most was his capacity to feel. Brock Boeser felt more deeply than anyone who had ever met before.

Unfortunately, like most people, his greatest strength was also sometimes his greatest weakness.

In the years that you had been with him, you learned that sometimes Brock got lost in his emotions, both the good and the bad. When he became hyper-fixated on a positive feeling, it was magical to be with him, to be around him. Being in his life when that happened felt like something out of a fairytale.

But when he started to drown in sadness or anger or doubt…

You knew him. After all these years, you should know him. Which meant that you recognized the warning signs that told you when Brock was spiraling. You never blamed him for his low moments. There was never anything to blame him for. All you could do was offer a hand and hold him through the storms that occasionally blew in.

This was one of those storms.

The Canucks were struggling and now, it seemed as if everyone was either being whisked away and lost in the shifting tides or they were abandoning a sinking ship before it was too late. Their coach who genuinely believed and cared about the players under his wings was fired. Their captain, the man that the team and the city looked to in order to lead them down the path to victory, had been traded, going off to join a team that had the will and skills necessary to win.

Now there were so many people looking to Brock, the golden boy, to be the new hope – the ray of light that would guide them all to a better horizon.

It was too much to place on one person’s shoulders. Even if that person may act like they would carry the burden with a smile on their face.

Brock loved his fans, he loved the team, he loved the city. He wanted to do right by them. But he didn’t realize that he couldn’t be their hopeful sun if he burnt himself out before they really needed him.

That’s why you had been waiting for him when he came home from practice, with a new pair of soft pajamas and one of his favorite movies queued up on the television. That’s why you had spent the last few hours with him silently curled up in your arms. And now, with one of your hands running through his golden hair, you wanted Brock to stay as peaceful as he was now.

“I’m going to let everyone down,” he whispers, uttering the first words he’s said since stepping through the doorway. You glance down at him and see his gaze turned elsewhere, far away from you and the present moment.

“What makes you think that?” you ask, knowing not to deny or minimize his fears. To let him work through them.

“I’m not what they need. They need someone who regularly preforms, who is a leader on and off the ice, who will drag the team where they need to be kicking and screaming. Someone strong. That’s not me.”

“You’re stronger than you think,” you reply, continuing to stroke his hair. “I know that if that’s what they need from you, you will take up that responsibility. But I need you to remember that you don’t have to do everything yourself.”

Your gentle words cause Brock to finally look up to you, his eyes looking into yours as you continue.

“You have a whole team behind you, Brock. People who want the same thing you do. People who will do what they need to do to achieve that dream,” you explain, taking a deep breath before you speak your next words – voicing a fear you always had when it came to your ocean of a boyfriend and the depth of his feelings.

“I just know don’t want you to become someone you’re not just because you think that’s what people want you to be. What people need – actually need – is you; the perfect, gentle, sweet soul that you are. And if the hockey world or culture or whatever doesn’t think those are the characteristics of a leader… then it’s them that needs to change, not you.”

You let your bold declaration linger in the stillness of your bedroom, watching Brock’s expression shift as he takes in your words. Another moment of silence passes between you before Brock connects his eyes to yours again and you smile at the softness reflected in his pupils.

“How am I so lucky? That I get to call the most caring person in the world mine?” he asks, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You can’t stop the light laughter that falls from you at his words.

“I think I should be the one asking that question.”

There is no hesitation as you lean into him, Brock welcoming you and it is only a brief moment until your lips touch his, capturing him in a gentle kiss. A kiss which you pour all of your love into. A kiss with a certainty and ferocity that Brock reciprocates.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, tangled in each other’s arms, pressing soft kisses into the other’s lips. It is Brock that pulls away first but he doesn’t move far. Instead, he just inclines his head forward so your foreheads are touching and you can feel the heat of his breath fanning across your cheekbones,

“Thank you,” he whispers to you. And somehow, you know he isn’t just thanking you for your words of kindness and encouragement. He is thanking you for being his anchor, his lifeline in the vastness of the oceans that exist both around him and within him.

“Always.”

[senditcolton]

congrats on 1k!!

may I request a “lead me to the garden” chai cookie with andrei svechnikov and the prompt “❀ gardenia (secret love) — “i don’t love you any less just because no one else can see it.”

I read it and immediately thought of your prince andrei au so maybe you could incorporate that but you don’t have to and I know i’ll still love it!!

it turned out little more angsty than expected (you can thank the Speak Now Vault Tracks for that) but i promise it has a happy ending (which you can also thank the Speak Now Vault Tracks for).

word count: 2.3k

It had been almost two months since the crown prince of Karolyna secretly proposed to you on the balcony of his room under the midnight moon.

Two months of serving Prince Andrei as his royal portrait artist while loving him behind closed doors. Two months of watching his father and other members of court urging him to marry a princess. Two months of waiting – for what, you weren’t entirely sure.

For Andrei to stand in the middle of the throne room and declare his love for you?

For him to give you the Svechnikov ruby to replace the braided twine on your finger?

For him to marry the Princess of Roslindale – a smart political match considering the tenuous friendship the countries shared – and keep you as his mistress?

For Andrei to realize that you were nothing special and abandon you for someone more suited for a prince?

He swears he loves you. He tells it to you at the end of every night you spend together. He is steadfast and determined to make your union work. But there is so much time between then and now and millions of questions to answer before that became a reality.

And even if the two of reach that moment – where you are happily married and received the new title Queen of Karolyna with the new King Andrei by your side – there would still be many obstacles to face.

If you and Andrei created a life together, it wouldn’t be easy. Hell, it wasn’t easy now but you knew in your bones that if you went through with the marriage, there would never be a moment of peace.

That was one thing that he couldn’t promise you: peace. And that terrified you.

All you wanted and yearned for was comfort and contentment and stability. That’s what got you out of bed every morning. That’s what drove you to perfect your talents. And when you were offered the job in court, you thought you were shown the path to achieving that dream.

But then you had to slam that door shut by falling in love with the one person you shouldn’t.

That pressure caused by the weight of all the possibilities and all the ways this could go wrong has you up well past midnight, the candlelight flickering around your studio the only company as you let the meditative strokes of your paintbrush soothe the wandering of your mind.

You are so caught up in your work that you don’t hear the creak of the studio door opening, focused on the image – the feeling – that you wanted to capture.

“It looks beautiful so far.”

Andrei’s voice startles you out of your state and you spin to find him lingering a few steps behind you, a candelabra in his hands and a soft smile on his face.

Part of you wanted to hate him for how beautiful he always looked, even in nothing but soft tan breeches and a white shirt. Hating him would’ve made things easier, less complicated.

You don’t give much of a reply except a small smile and you turn back to the canvas, your mind mapping out the colors still needed, examining the positioning of the bodies, looking for flaws, like you always did. One of the downsides of being an artist; you sometimes couldn’t stop looking for something else to fix.

Usually, Andrei let you work, silently sitting at your work table or milling around your studio, studying your other in progress pieces. You think that is what he was going to do now until you feel his strong arms wrap around you.

“Is it us?” he asks, staring at the gentle embrace of the lovers on your canvas.

“A fantasy of us.”

The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them, slipping out from the most secluded parts of your heart. You can feel Andrei’s energy shift as his head pulls away from your shoulder and you know that his brow is furrowing in confusion.

“What do you mean; fantasy?”

You knew if you spoke the truth, voiced the fears that had been lingering in your mind and haunted you every waking moment, you knew what his response would be:

I don’t love you any less just because no one else can see it.

It was a pretty lie, one that you believed long ago. But now… you don’t think the lie could sustain you anymore.

You weren’t royalty. You weren’t cut out to be a royal. And even if Andrei could uphold his word, there was still so much trouble that could come from your marriage. Your union could snub many powerful allies. The people of Karolyna may never accept you, no matter how much they loved their prince.

You wanted the people to love you but more importantly, you never wanted to turn them against Andrei. Which you could easily do by loving him. You could put him at risk from assassins, rioters, malcontents. And if that happened, you would never forgive yourself.

You loved Andrei. You loved him so much that you knew that the choice you had debated pursuing was the right one.

So, instead of responding to him, you set down your paintbrush and your hand moves to your fingers. Your fingertips trace the braided pattern of the canvas strands one more time before they grip the edges of your makeshift ring and pull it off your finger.

With a small shrug, you shake from Andrei’s hold, feeling his touch disappear from your body before taking one final deep breath before facing him. You can’t stop the way your heart aches when you see the bewilderment on his face. And you knew that that aches would only worsen the more you continue.  

But you had to go through with it.

Wordlessly, you grab Andrei’s hand, memorizing the way it feels in yours before you place the woven twine into his palm, closing his fingers around it.

“It’s very beautiful,” you whisper, the word slightly sticking in your throat. “But it’s not for me.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, his own voice thick with hesitation.

“I can’t do this Andrei. Marry the Princess Patrycja, bring peace to your kingdom and country, fall in love with someone who deserves you. This is what’s best. Trust me.”

“But… you are the one I want,” he exclaims, his accent coming in stronger than it had previously. And before you can stop him, he reaches out and pulls you into his arms, one of his hands lifting your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes.  “I don’t want anyone else but you.”

The way he says those words almost makes you relinquish control, ready to rescind all your previously spoken words. But you know you shouldn’t.

“I can’t accept that,” you repeat.

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, Andrei.”

“Please. Talk to me,” he begs, pulling you tighter and you have to force your eyes close before you lose yourself in his deep brown irises. You can feel his chest heave underneath your palms as he speaks again. “Please.”

His voice breaks as the last word falls from his mouth, a perfect punctuation to his desperate plea and this time, you can’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. You bury your face into his chest and he grips you tighter. And from the way he is holding onto you like a lifeline makes a part of you believe that he would never let you go. Or perhaps, it was because he knew this was the last time he would get to hold you like this.

The thought makes you sob harder and you curse fate, thinking that there was nothing crueler than for it to bring you to the man who made you feel complete only to have you meet him in a place where your love could never work.

“I love you,” you say, the words falling freely. “You have to believe me when I say that. And I know that a part of me will always love you. But it’s not enough. I used to think it would be but…”

You sniff, pushing back any lingering tears as you lift your head. After brushing away the droplets still on your skin, you take a deep breath before you step back. Your heart breaks a little more when you feel Andrei’s hands fall from you without a fight. But you build that necessary wall, as strong and impenetrable as the outer barricades of the very castle you stood in.

“I will continue my work if you need anything else from me, your royal highness. If you are no longer satisfied with my work or my presence, I will relinquish my role here,” you say, your voice shifting into the professional detached tone that you had perfected long ago.

Andrei doesn’t say anything else. He must have realized that there was nothing he could say to make you change your mind. Instead, you are forced to watch his own face shift into polite indifference as he gives you a small nod before turning heel and exiting out the door of your studio, once again leaving you alone with your paint and candles.

There was a time when you thought that having Andrei by your side, knowing that he would die for you, would be enough to pull you through all the hardships that you would face.

Perhaps it would’ve worked if he wasn’t the prince and you weren’t the royal painter. But it wasn’t meant to be. Not in this life.

But maybe in the next.

*~*~*~* 164 years later *~*~*~*

There was a certain kind of peace that washed over you every time you entered an art museum. You could never explain it, even to your closest friends, but it was a part of you, as real as the blood pumping through your veins.

The pictures of history, of memory, of myths, of fantasy, of emotions. All painstakingly brought to life by someone using nothing but paint and some canvas. All collected and put on display for you to enjoy.

So, when you were lucky enough to enjoy a trip to Italy over the summer, you knew for a fact that you had to visit the Pinacoteca di Brera in Milan to see the foremost collection of famous masterpieces. You had spent hours wandering the expansive hallways, taking in all the artwork lining the walls and you swear that you could spend all day here.

You wander into the thirty-eighth room and look around, incredibly happy to discover that there were still new pieces of art for you to see and examine. You are about to start your usual path around the perimeter of the room before a painting in the small center wall catches your eye.

It wasn’t anything special: it was an oil painting of two lovers embracing, portrayed in the stylings of classic Romanticism. But there was something inexplicable, some indescribable force, that drew you towards the canvas, the sound of your shoes echoing as you walk over.

When you reach the painting, you immediately bend over to read the plaque next to it.

“The Kiss or ПОЦЕЛУЙ was discovered in a hidden unknown room of the St. Petersburg Palace in Moscow, Russia twenty years ago. The artist and origin of this painting are unknown, although based on technique, subject matter, and location of discovery, some postulate that the painting may have originated in the small country of Karolyna, a monarchic city-state that was absorbed by Russia shortly after the Bolshevik government took power.”

You look up at the oil painting, your eyes dancing over the brushstrokes. It was beautiful. You could see the detail the artist put into every portion of the canvas. But it was more than just aesthetically pleasing. You swear you could feel the exact emotions the artist felt when it was painted.

The way the female subject grasped her lover’s shoulder, as if she never wanted to let him go. The way the male subject cradled her head, letting her know she was safe. How his hand was resting on her cheek with the utmost tenderness, a gesture of true love.

“It’s very beautiful.”

The accented voice pulls you out of your reverie and you turn towards the sound.

Perhaps it was the feeling the painting caught you in still lingering on the edges of your consciousness, but you swear you recognize the man standing next to you. You had never met him before, that much was certain. But there was something about him – the cut of his jaw, the fall of his hair, the warmth of his brown eyes – that made you feel as if you had always known him.

“It is,” you reply.

“Are you a fan of art?” the stranger asks, still staring up at the framed portrait.

“Yeah. Wherever I go, I have to stop at the local art museum. You?”

“My friends think it’s odd, considering my profession, but I’ve always been drawn to artwork. Especially paintings.”

“You made a good choice then. There are so many beautiful paintings out there in the world. Including this one,” you say, your voice light as you turn your body towards him. The stranger mirrors your movements and the moment your eyes connect, butterflies erupt in your stomach. And if you were as good at deciphering real people as you were at interpreting artwork, it seemed like he had a similar reaction.

Years from now, when the two of you are huddled over a cardboard box of photos – a collection of the life you made – you will think back to this moment. The time you met in a crowded room in a foreign country.

There was no proof that you were meant to find each other or that you were meant to be together. But you both just knew.

Your love story started the moment he held out his hand to you, an achingly familiar smile on his face.

“Hello. My name’s Andrei.”

[senditcolton]

“The Apple of My Eye” Caramel Rose Apple Pie

Sidney Crosby or Tyson Jost please!

two very good choices!! you may have already seen all these fics and perhaps even read some but I adore all of them so, here we are

Sidney Crosby What Love Feels Like by Lauren (@laurenairay) Much Too Much by Gracie (@holy-pucks) Illicit Affairs by Cait (@blueskrugs)

Tyson Jost This is Getting Good Now (all of it) by Demi (@wyattjohnston) Endings, Beginnings by Nat (@idontgiveaflyinggrayson69) The Holidate by Ilyana (@hookingminor)

[senditcolton]

Congrats darling! 🥂🎉

May I hit up the chai cookies off the menu please and thank you: “holly” with our boy Tyson?

🫶🏻💜

okay, holly always makes me think of winter and the holidays so that's where we went with this fic. also Tyson being in Buffalo... it fits perfectly.

word count: 0.9k

It was easy to fall in love. Especially easy to fall in love with your boyfriend Tyson. You believed that you fell for him since you first saw him. And you think you fall in love with him every single day.

Especially the days that you woke up in bed with him, tangled in his arms, his warn skin over yours. Like this morning.

When your eyes opened, fluttering against the early morning light, you sigh at the sight of the worn wooden walls, the lattice window opening up to a wonderland of pine trees dusted with snow.

You knew it was a wildly different sight than most of your friends would be waking up to. Most players who weren’t participating in the All-Star game went off to these topical locations, with white sand beaches and gentle ocean breezes. But you and Tyson decided that wasn’t what you wanted.

You loved the winter and Tyson loved you. So, the two of you rented a cabin in upstate New York and spent the almost two-week-long break in your own little secluded snow globe.

There is a shift of weight on the mattress and your gaze finally directs down to Tyson pressed against you, his curls mussed and his breath coming in gently. You sneak your arm around him, hand coming to rest on his chest and feel the steady beat of his heart under your palm. Another sigh escapes you as you bury your face into the nape of his neck, scooting closer to him.

Beneath your hands, you can feel Tyson move again, his arm moving to cover the hand that rested on his chest, intertwining your fingers with his. You weren’t sure if he was awake yet as it seemed that Tyson always ended up reaching for you even in his dreams. But you quickly got your answer when you hear the mumbled words fall from Tyson’s mouth.

“I never want to leave this bed.”

Your heart softened at his words as you pull him closer to you. You know that he means it as more than just a statement about how comfortable he is. The words convey the weight of a fantasy that could never be true. A world where it was always just the two of you – no distance, no stress, no worries. A storybook. A fairytale. A winter wonderland.

“Then let’s not,” you whisper to him, not wanting to shatter the illusion for him, wanting to fuel his hope a little more even through the two of you knew it was all a lie.

Tyson rolls over, finally facing you and you can feel yourself fall even harder for him when his brown eyes connect with yours, the whispers of his goofy grin painted on his face.

“Just forget the world out there?” he asks, the teasing tone clear in the morning light.

“Run away and never look back,” you reply, matching his timbre.

“You know I’d run anywhere with you.”

“I know. You know I’d do the same.”

There is no stopping the gravity of him pulling you in, your lips coming to meet his in a sweet kiss, Tyson’s arms wrapping around you to press you into his body. You welcome him gladly, deepening the kiss and feeling the trill in your heart at the sound of his gentle groan against your lips.

Tyson’s lips start to wander, departing from your lips to trail down to your neck, his hand coming to the back of your thigh to throw your leg over his hip. You sigh, your head tilting to give him more access, one of your hands tangling in his hair, the soft breath of a moan releasing from your chest.

Unfortunately, before things can progress any further, both you and Tyson’s movements are stilled by a knocking on the bedroom door.

“If ya’ll are fucking, hurry it up. We’re going sledding!”

It’s Erik’s voice that cuts through the calm morning, followed shortly by Jackie’s admonished shriek of his name and you hear EJ’s laughter as his footsteps retreat back down the hall. You feel the vibration of Tyson’s groan against the delicate skin of your neck.

“Remind me why we invited them?” he mutters.

“Because we’re too fucking nice,” you reply, the mood effectively killed as you and Tyson untangle from each other. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before Tyson is huffing out a small breath of laughter, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling.

You stay curled up in the sheets as you watch Tyson lift himself up, his skin pale in the snow-reflected light, watching the way his muscles shift as he stretches his arms over his head. He turns back to you with that infectious smile on his face before he holds his hand out to you.

“Come on. Gotta make sure EJ doesn’t break his other knee.”

It is your turn to let the light laugh fall as you close your hand in his. Tyson pulls you from the sheets, the wood of the cabin feeling delightful against your bare feet. Tyson continues to bring you to him, enveloping you in a warm embrace, one that you happily sink into, your cheek coming to rest on his chest.

The two of you stand there, wrapped in each other for a brief moment before Tyson presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. He slowly unwinds himself from you and you watch as he disappears into the adjoining bathroom.

You sigh, glancing back at the bed and it’s delightfully ruffled sheets. The call of them is enticing and it takes all your willpower not to sink back into the cotton. But there was too much to do so you silence their call by pulling them taut, making the bed.

[senditcolton]

I'd like to order some sugar cookies, if I may. May I request a carnival date with andrei svechnikov? Thank you!

oh i love the idea of going to a carnival with this sweet boy!! the vibes are truly immaculate if i do say so myself

[senditcolton]

Since you’re open for more 🫶🏻💜

Sugar Cookies: Josty & summer lake shenanigans

the perfect vibes for the perfect boy (and super fun to make considering all the content this man gives us during the offseason!)

[senditcolton]

Congrats on 1k! I'd like to order some Chai cookies, please!

Candytuft with mr tyson jost, please. Thank you!!

really trying to get back into writing Call My Bluff, Call You Babe and this seemed like a golden opportunity. so enjoy this bonus look into the fourth chapter (that I hope to publish after the summer fic exchange)

word count: 1k

Tyson couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard he tried, his body and mind wouldn’t let him drift off into a sweet oblivion.

Instead, all he could do was replay the last few moments of Gabe’s New Year’s Day party.

He went there with Maddie, his go-to plus-one for any team event; an invite that she always happily accepted. When he picked her up from her apartment, he was stunned speechless at how absolutely beautiful she looked in her sparkly black dress, her blonde hair perfectly styled and her makeup highlighting every delicate feature.

And when they arrived at the Landeskog house, Tyson happily watched her as she floated through the crowds of people, looking like a vision out in the living room, laughing with his friends, being so happy and comfortable.

Tyson had been – no still was – happy for her. There was no denying he was happy for her. He was glad to see that she was settling in to her new life in Denver, happy to see she got along with his friends, overjoyed that she no longer was the heartbroken girl he reunited with almost 8 months ago.

But if he was so happy, why did he have this pit in his stomach and a chill in his heart that had nothing to do with the impulsive polar plunge that he took in Gabe’s still uncovered pool?

The question was rhetorical. He knew exactly why he felt the way he did. And before he could stop it, the memories of the night continue to flash through his mind in chronological order.

Cale walking up to him, his always flushed cheeks even more red as the question falls out of his mouth.

Tyson answering in a non-committal fashion, uttering the well-practiced phrase of “we’re just friends”.

The smile that dawned on Cale’s face at Tyson’s acceptance.

He just stood there and watched as Cale walked over to Maddie, watched as the girl he loved squealed with excitement and threw her arms around his teammate. The sight made his blood boil.

He knew he had absolutely no right to feel the way he did. His reaction was completely unwarranted; Madeleine wasn’t his. She was free to date whoever she wanted. And if that meant Cale, then he would accept it.

Should accept it.

But the thought of them together still sent a hot wave of fire through Tyson’s body, a burning heat that fueled his next actions, the alcohol in his veins an easy excuse for his decision to dive into the outdoor pool, the freezing water a pleasant mind-numbing shock to his scrambled brain.

And when Madeline came out and called him an idiot – a term of endearment from her – he just smiled. And when she followed him in without any hesitation, he couldn’t stop his grin from growing even wider.

At the end of the night, Tyson found himself sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, his still damp clothes stored in the trunk, and an extra pair of Gabe’s sweatpants and sweatshirt on his body. And Madeline was sitting next to him in a similar outfit, scrolling through her phone as Tyson drove her home.

It was there that she told him what he already knew: that Cale had asked her on a date. Then she asked the same question Cale did: if he was okay with it. Her reasoning was slightly different though, noting that it might be awkward for Tyson – his best friend and his teammate being together.

He laughed, telling her he didn’t care, it was her life and she could do what she wanted. She responded with a laugh of her own and a small okay as she turned to look back out the window. They didn’t say anything the rest of the way, only sharing a small goodbye as Tyson dropped her off outside her apartment.

He waited to receive a text from her, letting him know she was safe in her apartment before driving away. And ever since he returned to his house, he had stayed in the exact position that he found himself now; in bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering if he just made a big mistake.

He should go to her. He should get up and drive to her apartment. She would buzz him in, he knows that she would. When your best friend shows up in the middle of the night, you let them in.

Tyson could imagine the way she would greet him, swinging the door to her apartment open in bewilderment. Her hair would be in a messy top knot, an oversized vintage Pioneers sweatshirt hanging on her body, her favorite gray rabbit slippers on her feet.

Maybe he should prepare a speech, tell her all the things we wanted to tell her as clearly and concisely as possible. But a part of him knew that if he did, any pre-planned words would be forgotten the moment he laid eyes on her. Instead, the truth would just tumble out of him:  

“I said that I didn’t care, but I lied. I don’t want you dating Cale. He’s a good guy but you don’t belong with him. You belong with me. I wanted you to move here with me because I missed you so much.  When I saw you again last April, something clicked. I love you, Madeleine. I’ve loved you since we were kids. I’m sorry it took me this long to tell you.”

In a perfect world, she would smile that gorgeous smile at him and jump into his arms, kissing him sweetly. They would become Tyson & Maddie, boyfriend & girlfriend.

In a perfect world, Tyson would be brave enough to go along with this crazy fantasy he conjured up in his mind. He would already be standing on her doorstep, about to knock on the wood.

But they didn’t exist in a perfect world.

So instead, Tyson just stays there in his own empty apartment begging for sleep to overtake him.

Praying that when he wakes up, he’ll feel differently.

Hoping that when he starts the first day of a brand-new year, he no longer believes that he already messed it all up. 

[senditcolton]

for your 1k celebration, could you please do a “wild and wacky” vintage chocolate cake for going to a sauna with mikko rantanen?

okay, i immediately love this idea and concept and i know Mikko would be so down for it!

Especially if you never experienced a traditional sauna before

Mikko would love to bring you into such an integral part of his culture

Say Mikko invites you to spend a summer in Finland with him

He has his own house or rents a place by a lake with a private sauna

And you want to immerse yourself in the culture

Not only because you want the full-experience

But because you really love Mikko and want to share your life with him and vice-versa

He tells you everything, walks you through every step

(and you are somewhat shocked to learn that this can go on for hours)

Maybe the first time you do it, you keep your swimsuit on for some level of comfort and security.

Mikko doesn’t mind – even though he tries to convince you to take it off

But you go through the whole process and it is so relaxing and fun

And you can tell Mikko loves to see you enjoying yourself so much

Perhaps one night you convince him to use the sauna again

And surprise him by showing up with nothing on

And Mikko is trying not to make it sexual (because that’s not what a sauna is supposed to be)

But you look so fucking sexy that he is losing his mind in the heat

And when the two of you jump into the nearby lake to cool off, he can’t resist pulling you close and kissing you fiercely

(and perhaps you go back in the house and heat up in other ways)

[senditcolton]

Hello my love! Congrats on 1k!! You are so deserving of all the love you’re getting, and I adore you to bits! 🥰💚

My I please have one of them there “Lead Me to the Garden” Chai Cookies?? With my boy Tyler and the prompt “myrtle”?? You know…because tis the season with him. 😉

listen: Tyler is fun and chaotic, his wedding reception seemed fun and chaotic, and i was in a fun and chaotic mood while writing so that's the vibe! (also Katy Perry's "Waking Up in Vegas was on repeat while writing for additional vibes) [also, also: i adore you more!!]

word count: 1.9k (went off again)

The groan you let out is involuntarily as the sharp ray of sunlight cuts through the window and onto your face. You attempt to roll over and turn away from the light but your movements are halted by a strong arm tightening around your waist. The weight of it against you causes your eyes to pop open before squinting shut again as the sun continues to pierce your line of sight.

It takes a moment for you to wiggle your way into a shadow so you can survey your surroundings, your head still pounding.

Your eyes scan the hotel room, clothes thrown on the floor and trash and other memorabilia strewn around the room. It takes a minute for you to remember that you were in Vegas, a much-needed vacation with a few of your closest friends. But while you remember your location, the memories of last night were still a blur of neon and alcohol.

There were plenty of questions in your head, all of which you needed answers to. But the most pressing one in the moment was finding out whose arm was slung over your frame.

Your eyes start at the tips of his fingers and travel up across the tattooed skin, the patterns seeming familiar but in your hungover haze, your mind was having trouble connecting the dots. That is until you see you see the 5-3-1 on the top of his shoulder and you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as you spin and come face-to-face with your boyfriend Tyler.

You don’t bother being gentle as you throw Tyler’s arm off of you, with only a slight mumble from him in protest as he nestles deeper in the sheets, no doubt fighting the same hangover that you were. You heave your body into an upright position, a move which you swiftly regret as the room immediately starts spinning on its axis.

Your hands shoot up to your face as you take a few deep breaths to ground yourself, reverting to the exercises that your therapist taught you for when you were feeling unmoored.

5 things you could see: the skyline from the window, the feather boa thrown over the desk chair, your heels kicked off by the door, the bouquet of flowers on the table, and Tyler in bed next to you.

4 things you could hear: traffic from outside, the whir of the air-conditioning, voices from the hall passing in front of your door, and the vibrating of a phone somewhere in the room.

3 things you could smell: Tyler’s cologne, your own perfume, and the lingering scent of coconut rum.

2 things you could feel: the hotel sheets against your skin and the cool metal of a ring on your finger.

1 thing that was real right now: you felt like you got run over by a truck.

Another small groan comes from you as you move your limbs, your joints cracking as you stretch, shaking as much of the lingering ache from your body. You still weren’t 100% sure what happened last night but damn, it must have been one hell of a party if this was how you felt afterwards.

You sigh before turning to look down at Tyler, his curls messy and his face buried in the pillow. Part of you didn’t want to wake him up but another part of you wanted him to share in your misery. The latter wins out as your grab his shoulder and start shaking.

“Tyler,” you say, your voice coming out hoarse and you can’t stop the grimace that appears on your face. You quickly shake off your disgust and start to say his name until the glint of gold stops your motions. Your eyebrows furrow as you eye the band sitting on your left ring finger.

The design seems familiar; the shield, scroll, and wings in the center all tugging at the corner of your memory. You lift your hand off of Tyler’s warm skin to examine the jewelry further. As you bring the ring closer to your eyes, you manage to make out the inscription of St. Michael’s College surrounding the signet. When the combination of the image and words finally click, it doesn’t give you any answer, just more questions.

Like, why the fuck were you wearing Tyler’s class ring?

An image of a man dressed like Elvis and the phantom feeling of Tyler’s lips on yours invades your mind and your heart drops as your mind starts to piece together a possible explanation.

No. That couldn’t possibly be right. Take a deep breath and think.

But your brain had already made the logical conclusion so try as you might, you couldn’t even focus on any other possibilities. That’s why your shaking of Tyler turned from annoying to frantic.

“Tyler. Tyler. Tyler!!’ you repeat, your voice raising with ever iteration of his name.

“What. What?” Tyler grumbles, finally waking up and turning around in the bed to glance up at you through squinted eyes.

“I – I think we got married last night.”

“What?” Tyler says, your words causing him to sit up fully and take in the room.

“Do you remember anything?”

“Not… really. But what makes you think we got married?”

Your wordlessly reply by holding up your hand so he can see the ring sitting on your finger. You feel Tyler grab your hand to take a closer look before he drops your hand onto the plush sheets.

“Okay but that doesn’t mean that we actually got married,” Tyler says, his own voice ladened with disbelief. “There has to be another explanation.”

“What other explanation is there? Your ring on my finger, us in bed together, the bouquet of fake flowers on the table and the fucking veil thrown over the lampshade!” you list, your anxiety continuing to spike by the minute. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes and your hands once again move to cover your eyes. “Oh my god, we had a Vegas wedding and we can’t remember it. I feel like I’m in a bad comedy movie.”

“Hey, it’s okay just breathe,” Tyler interrupts, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Let’s just try and figure this out, yeah?”

His voice pulls you back to reality as it always did and you open your eyes again, glancing in his direction. His soft smile pulls a similar grin onto your lips as you take another few deep breaths.

“Okay, I think the best thing for us to do would be to find a phone. Call our friends, see if they remember last night any better than us,” Tyler explains.

“I know I heard someone’s phone buzzing earlier. I think it’s on the desk.”

Tyler doesn’t hesitate to slide out of bed and wander over to the desk and after moving some clothes and beads and papers, he triumphantly hold up a cell phone and you sigh when you recognize your phone case. He wanders back over towards you, handing you the device.

You snatch it from his hand and press the lock button to light up the home screen. The second you do, you find dozens of text messages from your best friend.

Do you remember what happened last night? It’s a little bit of a blur to me. Oh fuck. Babe, wake up. Are you with Tyler right now? Answer me, I need to talk to you. I found these in my camera roll. [4 photos, 1 video] That’s you and Tyler, right? Please tell me I’m not hallucinating. Helloooooo???

Your heart continues to pound as you click on the attachments and scroll through. And there is no denying that the subject of every one is you and Tyler:

You and Tyler fully clothed in a pool. You and Tyler sitting on a pink convertible. You and Tyler posing under a floral arch, a bouquet in your hands and a veil on your head. You and Tyler posing with an Elvis impersonator at the end of an aisle. And when you click the video, you are no longer shocked to see a shaky video of you and Tyler kissing in some random chapel.

“Holy shit,” you hear Tyler say and when you glance over your shoulder, you see Tyler hovering right next to you, watching the video as well. “I can’t believe it. We’re actually married.”

The two of you just stare at each other for a moment, the reality of the situation sinking in. You don’t know what to say, what to think, what to do. But eventually, your involuntary reactions take over and you… start laughing.

Laughing at the absurdity of it all, laughing at the mess you got yourself into, laughing at the fact that you married your boyfriend of 2 years in the most cliché way possible.

Tyler stares at you in confusion for a moment before he is joining in. Your laughter mixes together and it isn’t long until you two are collapsed back in bed, looking over at each other.

“We’re married!” you exclaim, the lingering giggles painting the tone of your voice.

“Yeah…” Tyler sighs, staring up at the ceiling with you. “Why the fuck did I give you my class ring?”

“That’s what you’re asking right now?” you say in disbelief, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at Tyler. “I mean, my guess is you didn’t have another ring so you gave me the only one you had.”

“I mean, that would make sense. But I do have another ring.”

The words hang in the air as you try to decipher their meaning. Tyler lets you process for a moment but when no explanation comes to you, he is once again scooting off the bed. This time he walks over to the closet and open the door. You peer over his shoulder trying to see what he’s doing but you can’t see anything. You can only hear the rustling of him digging through his duffle bag.

Tyler lifts himself up and turns back towards you, his hands hidden behind his back.

“I was planning on this being a little more romantic but I guess I was too excited to marry you that I just cut out the middle man.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you listen to him, watching his slow approach as he sits down on the edge of the mattress.

“I’m really happy we’re married – even if neither of us can remember most of it,” he says with a laugh, one that you return. “But I do need my ring back. So…”

Tyler trails off, only to pull a small ring box into your line of sight and you gasp when he opens the lid to reveal a beautiful engagement ring nestled in the velvet.

“I would ask you to marry me but it feels a little awkward since we already are. Um, so, will you do me the honor of… staying married to me?”

You can’t help the laugher that falls from your lips as you take in everything that happened in what was most likely the weirdest morning of your entire existence. But the answer to Tyler’s awkward question would have been the same, even if he was asking it in front of the Bellagio fountains while you were wearing your best dress.

And for the first time this morning, you don’t overthink the situation as you practically leap into Tyler arms and kiss him fiercely. Tyler responds by pulling you close, his arms securing you as he deepens the kiss.

After a moment you pull away, smiling like a fool up at him.

“Yes, Tyler. I will marry you, stay married to you, whatever. I wouldn’t leave you for all the money in Las Vegas.”

“Bold statement,” he teases. “We still got three days here. Maybe we can hit the biggest jackpot ever tonight.”

“Well, if we do, let’s make sure we stay sober enough to remember it.”

[senditcolton]

sweetie pie honey muffin congrats on 1k!!! may i please have a lead me to the garden chai cookie of the oak variety with one mister ryan graves? love youuuuuuu 🥰🤩🥳

thank you so much my love!! love you to the moon! and i went a little more cutesy fluffy for this oak chai cookie. hope you love it!

word count: 0.8k

You loved your boyfriend, Ryan. You really did.

You swear you did.

But sometimes, you wondered what the hell you got yourself into.

And yes, some people might think that you were talking about the distance, his travel schedule, the packing and moving, the lack of stability. But right now, you were talking about the fact that this man woke you up at the crack of dawn… to go on a run with him.

It was partially your fault. You mentioned to Ryan that you would love to be a little more active, get some more exercise. And Ryan – your sweet golden retriever boyfriend – took that off-handed comment and ran with it.

Literally.

No, like he was legitimately running ahead of you on the Nova Scotia beach and you were struggling behind him, your feet sinking beneath the sand, even though Ryan had the foresight to have the two of you run on the smooth packed edge of low tide.

You had been doing alright or at least you thought you had. It was different at first but you were sure you could handle it. But now, after only 8 minutes of this, you were ready to collapse into the wet sand and stay there until the waves washed you away.

“Come on babe, keep up!” Ryan shouts to you and you can hear the playful tone of his words but oooh boy, you were ready to fight him. Add kickboxing to your exercise repertoire.

“I hate you!” you reply, your own tone light but there was a slight truth to your words. Thankfully, Ryan doesn’t take offense, like he never did, and just laughed before smiling back at you.

“I know.”

You huff with your own strained laughter as you dig your feet into the unsteady ground and propel yourself forward, knowing that Ryan would never push you too far. You manage to last for what feels like another two minutes before your pace is slowing and you’re calling out to your boyfriend again.

“Ryan,” you whine, the high-pitch helping to cut through the sound of crashing waves. “This is so difficult. Like why did you have me run on sand?”

“Adds resistance! Really works your lower body and helps your balance.”

“Is that why you hockey players like it. Helps you balance on your knife shoes?”

“Something like that,” Ryan chuckles, slowing down his pace until you’ve caught up to him.

“Well, I…” you huff out, reaching out to grip Ryan’s forearm, halting both him and yourself before you lean forward, your chest heaving. “Oh, I can’t do this. This is exhausting.”

“I know you can do it. Just a few more minutes and then we can take our sweet time walking back to the car.”

“Babe, I don’t think I’m cut out for this. This is what you do every morning?”

“Yeah, I really like it. Training with a view, y’know? But I promise, if you end up absolutely hating this, you never have to do it again.”

“You swear?” you genuinely ask, looking up at him and still slightly hating him. But now, you’re hating him for the way the sunlight hits his pale skin and highlights the cut of his jaw.

“Absolutely,” he smiles at you and if your legs didn’t already feel like jelly, the action would have you weak in the knees. “But I know you can make it. You’re stronger than you think.”

The words soften your resolve and you stretch your body upright, sighing deeply as the salt air fills your lungs and the breeze from the ocean cools the sweat on your skin. You eyes open to find Ryan still staring at you, waiting for your answer. The bemused huff falls from your chest as you playfully glare at Ryan.

“Why are you so good at sweet-talking me?”

“Must be the Gemini,” he says and you can’t stop the laugh that falls from your lips.

“Okay, five more minutes,” you concede and Ryan’s grin grows more as he turns to take off again. But before he can, you stop him with a grip on his forearms. “But… we’re getting frozen yogurt after this.”

“Deal.”

You do manage to stick it out for the next five minutes, managing to reach the small beach that Ryan had planned your route to. Soon you found yourself walking back to the car, your shoes in Ryan’s hand, the rising tide lapping around your ankles, and the small cup of vanilla fro-yo in your hands.

And when you looked out over the ocean, the sunrise painting the beach a hazy pink and orange, you were startled to realize that you might start to enjoy these types of mornings with Ryan.

But maybe next time, the two of you could try yoga instead.

[senditcolton]

May I order a vintage chocolate cake? Moving into a new home with roope hintz, please? Thank you and congrats on 1k!

a soft sweet side of the angel boy? love this idea so much!

First off, I think that Roope asking you to move in with him would be super casual

Like “We’ve been dating for so many years, of course you’re moving in with me”

But it wouldn’t just be packing up your things and living in his ‘bachelor pad’

Because Roope loves you & he wants to spend the rest of his life with you

That means that he wants to start planning for, well, the beginning of your forever

So, he proposes the idea of starting fresh and moving into a place that was new for the two of you

It’s a whirlwind of show homes and apartment tours all around Dallas

Until you finally find a place that is perfect; everything you could’ve asked for

You know that when you’re standing in the living room and can easily picture a future here

And when Roope comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, you know he sees it too

There is a few months between the purchase and the moving in process

Simply waiting for Roope’s former lease to expire

And helping your roommates find a replacement for your vacancy

Not to mention the month that the two of you crashed at Joe Pavelski’s house because the air conditioning unit of your new place malfunctioned and needed to be replaced

That wait time was mostly filled with you scrolling through socials and websites for inspiration of what you wanted your home to be

Then move-in day arrives and it feels perfect

Sure, there were bumps and stress and a lot of work

But at the end of that first night…

Even though there were boxes on the floor and the mattress hadn’t been delivered

You never felt happier than you did curled up with Roope on the couch

Because you were finally home.

[senditcolton]

hi!! for your cele-bakery could i request the blue salvia (i think of you) prompt with jt compher please?? congrats on 1k 🥳💗

ah, now it's time to bring out the slight trade angst (you know I had to do it at some point)

word count: 1.5k (do i know what a blurb is? evidently not)

You never liked thinking about endings. The last chapter of a good book. The closing song of an album you waited ages to hear. The final bite of a delicious meal. The end of summer.

Saying goodbye.

You knew endings were a part of life. They had to happen. But that didn’t mean you had to like or even accept them. Especially when their reality seemed to tear your reality apart.

Much like the phone call that you received from J.T. a few days ago.

Your best friend in Colorado, the person that you spent hours with and whose face was a mainstay in many of your favorite memories… was moving to Detroit.

You were happy for him, you really were. But it was hard to hear that he would soon be hundred of miles away from you.

If J.T. noticed how much the news hurt you to hear, he didn’t show it. He just carried on with the plans you had made for the summer, blissfully ignoring the fact that this might be the last summer the two of you spend together.

You didn’t know if you should hate him for it or thank him for it. Because the inevitable conclusion was something you knew you couldn’t ignore but one you didn’t want to experience.

That was the conflict buzzing around in your mind, even as you continued to follow the hiking trail, the sounds of nature and the beautiful views doing nothing to quiet your thoughts, J.T. trailing close behind you.

The hike was your idea, one of the lines on the summer bucket list that you and J.T. made in his apartment one winter night. It was supposed to be fun – that was the intention all those months ago. But it was just another distraction.

It was a beautiful distraction though. The red rocks reaching up, the wide blue sky, the rolling hills of grass, dotted with wildflowers. If all that came from today was heartbreak and regret, at least it would happen with a cinematic backdrop.

You rise over the final crest of the trail, reaching the summit of the outlook and after a few more steps, you settle down on the sun-heated rock and stare out across the landscape. You don’t turn when you hear J.T.’s steady footsteps on the rock behind you. You don’t even turn when you hear his voice dance along the breeze.

“It’s really beautiful up here.”

“I forgot that you never hiked Garden of the Gods,” you muse as you continue to look down at the valley below you.

“Glad you brought me out here,” J.T. says and you can feel him settle next to you on the rocky outlook.

“Thought I lost you back there for a moment.”

“Didn’t wait for me to catch up?” he asks, the lighthearted tone bringing a smile to your face as you finally look to him, your eyes connecting.

“You know I’d always wait for you, J,” you reply, your own voice soft, weighed down with all the unspoken things you wished you said earlier. J.T. simply returns your smile and you swear you see the same hurt reflected in his eyes.

“I know.”

The two of you stay there for a moment, silent, letting the only soundtrack to the moment be the wind through the trees. Your soft smile eventually turns into a smirk, ready to continue to ignore the eventual ending and focus on the now. Focus on the friendship that always made you happy.

“What were you doing back there, anyway? I would think the professional athlete would be sprinting ahead,” you joke, a slight laugh falling from your lips.

“Got distracted.”

“By what?”

You watch as J.T.’s cheeks turn a light pink. The logical – or maybe cynical – part of your mind tells you it’s most likely from the sun. His fair skin and ginger hair did not bode well for summer weather. But you slowly realize that you were mistaken as he lifts the hand furthest from you, bringing it into view.

And clasped in his fist is a small bouquet of wildflowers, plucked from the side of the trails and tied together with a long stalk of prairie grass.

“They made me think of you,” he explains, moving the flowers closer to you.

“Thank you,” you whisper as you take the bouquet from his hands, your mind spinning from his words.

“You’re welcome.”

There is another silence as the two of you look back out over the terrain, an odd tension now wiggling its way between you. It lasts for a few minutes and right as you think you can’t take another moment, J.T. speaks first.

“Okay, I know this is going to sound a little crazy,” he begins. “But promise that you’ll just hear me out. No matter what.”

The nerves wavering his voice are enough to call your full attention to him. And when you face him, meeting his eyes, the earnestness in his irises sends a shot straight through your heart.

“No matter what,” you reply.

“Okay.” He sighs deeply, looking away from you for a moment before reconnecting to your gaze.

“I like you. As more than a friend. When I signed with Detroit… I don’t know. I couldn’t fully understand what I was feeling. I was happy about the new start, about going to a team that wanted me, about getting closer to my family. But there was something that I felt like I was missing. Something I had here that I wouldn’t have in Detroit. And I realized it was you.”

His confession hits deep, causing your heartbeat to stutter and your breath to catch in your throat. You don’t say anything; you aren’t sure if you would even be able to. So, you just continue to look in his brown eyes, silently urging him to continue. Which he does.

“I don’t want to lose you. I know that we can be friends anywhere, that just because I move to a different state doesn’t mean the friendship is going to end. But I hated the thought of being so far away from you. And I guess a part of me was scared that maybe you’d forget about me.”

“I’d never forget about you J.T. You’re my best friend,” you say, gently interrupting him. Your words bring a soft smile to his face, the look in his eyes as sweet as his grin.

“And you’re mine. And I wouldn’t change anything about these last few years with you. And I would be happy to keep you as a friend if you don’t feel the same as me. I just wanted to tell you how I felt face-to-face.”

He lets the silence settle over the two of you, giving you time to fully process his words. It was more than you were expecting today. Granted, you weren’t sure exactly what you were expecting. A heartfelt goodbye. More of J.T. acting like nothing was wrong.

A love confession was not even in the realm of possibilities for you.

And yet… here he was. Telling you he wanted more. But now the question was: what did you want?

“I don’t want to lose you either J.T.,” you say, the words coming out of your mouth slowly, like the sap from the pine trees around you. “And I don’t know if that means I like you the way you like me or if it just means that I’m scared of losing my best friend but… I want to be with you. I want you to be a part of my life. Whatever that means.”

It is your turn to pause and let your words sink in. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t any lingering fear. You believed him when he said he wanted to keep you in his life. But it was a lot to ask, especially concerning how many changes were coming. You hoped that he trusted you enough to wait for you. Across time and distance.

However, your fears were quickly silenced when you saw that grin break out on his face. The grin that you only saw directed towards you.

“You know I would always wait for you,” he replies, echoing your words from earlier, the light-hearted way he spoke them not diminishing the weight and truth behind them.

You laugh, letting the tension slip away along with the melancholy you felt about saying goodbye. It wasn’t a solution. The two of you still had to face many obstacles in the upcoming months. But you felt better knowing that your best friend wouldn’t abandon you that easily. Knowing that he would be fighting even harder to keep you in his life.

J.T. playfully nudges your shoulder, calling your attention back to him again.

“Can I at least take you on a date?” he asks, that grin still on his lips. “Dinner at my place?”

“Sure. But wouldn’t it just be like any of the other nights we ate at yours?”

“I’ll make it different.”

“Oh, are you going to try to woo me J?” you tease, letting your joy seep into your words.

“I picked you wildflowers. I think I’m doing pretty good in the wooing department.”

“Eh, I give you a B+.”

[senditcolton]

congratulations on 1k my love! you are so deserving and I am so, so proud of you! 🫶🏼

can I get uhhhhh showstopper sugar cookies for ‘at least we were electrified’ matty please? xoxoxo 💋

- @comphy-and-cozy

ugh, i will accept any excuse to stay in this universe @comphy-and-cozy

[senditcolton]

Congrats on 1k!! You deserve all and more!!

I would love something for “Showstopper” Sugar Cookies - a moodboard with Brock Boeser and ren faire?? Thank you! 💛

irl Prince Charming Brock Boeser at a renaissance faire? say less!!!

[senditcolton]

“Showstopper” Sugar Cookies for you 1k celebration.

Marc-André Fleury.

I'm writing a story for him where he falls in love with my hockey OC Barlow (she plays for Vegas with him in 2019, played by teresa palmer) and her 3 year old daughter Harper (has red hair and brown eyes) the story is called Knights of Silver and Gold, and it's about Barlow losing her first love and being so afraid to love again till she meets her "white knight" in Marc-André and they learn what real and true loves actually means.

this was so interesting and so much fun to do! I hope I captured the image you have in your mind and did this beautiful story concept justice!