#but there is still a (small) chance that she will come to winnipeg

[thisdress]

ok but if taylor ends up coming here after i went through all of this shit to go to a US show i will cry so hard adjkaslkdsakl

[butgilinsky]

someone will ache for your soul // np

warning; a lot of language i’m sry, argument btw best friends, talks abt a shitty ex bf but there’s nothing explicit

summary; in a world where you acquire tattoos across various parts of your body once you fall in love with someone, you have to hide yours from your best friend. 

word count; 6.7k+

a/n: kind of a soulmate au but not really i guess? i saw this prompt somewhere online and idk where it’s from so the general idea of gaining tattoos from those you fall in love with is not mine but the rest of the fic is. okay thx bye(:

add yourself to my nhl taglist!

When you were younger, you loved it. You loved looking down at your ankle and seeing the small butterfly just beside your ankle. You’d had it your whole life, though you still weren’t entirely sure how a tattoo grew up with you, but you accepted it. After all, it’s all that you knew. 

Everybody’s born with a tattoo on their ankle, a small tattoo that has theirselves embedded into it. However, the older you get the more you realize that it’s not the tattoo you’re born with that makes the biggest impact on you, it’s others’. Every time you fall in love with somebody, your skin makes room for their tattoo on it. Your mom’s tattoo, a small star on her left ankle, shined bright from its place on your father’s wrist, somehow separate from the couple tattoos he collected over the years. 

You remember the day you found out about the tattoos, perched in your mom’s lap and listening to her talk to your aunt about it. You remember tracing their tattoos with your small fingers while they told you various stories about their loves and how they grew up collecting tattoos on their skin. You were scared, asked your mom what happened if you never got any more than your single tattoo on your ankle. She told you that you would, that anybody would be lucky to collect your small butterfly somewhere on their body. 

You remember the day you got your second tattoo, the paper plane that sat on the back of your left shoulder that now held the role as a painful reminder of your first love. You loved Cory, but the time for the two of you had come and gone. The paper airplane, though never in your line of sight, was still a painful reminder of the times you shared with the boy and how he broke your heart at the end of it all just before moving to college. 

You had to go through senior year alone, newly broken up with and with your best friend hours away from home. You couldn’t blame Nolan, not when he was out doing the thing he loved so much. Being in Brandon was good for him, it was all that he wanted, and it wasn’t all that far away from Winnipeg anyways. You still drove out to see Nolan’s games, even if it ran up the miles on your car and had you spending late nights driving back home by yourself. You would’ve done anything for Nolan, and it truly showed during your senior year. 

Nolan’s draft day was a rude awakening for you. You jumped up when his name was called, hugging him as tight as you possibly could before hiding your giddy expression behind your hands. You were excited for him, even if he was going all the way out to Philadelphia. You wanted him to be happy, and you could tell within seconds of his name being called that he was going to do just fine in Philly. 

You didn’t notice until you got home and your heart sank into your stomach. Your adrenaline high had worn off, and the reality of everything around you began to sink in. You knew what it was the second you laid your eyes on it, black lines etched into the skin of your sternum. You thought it was an odd placement, though it was hard to miss it when you stepped out of the shower and it stood tall and proud and ready to be found. 

You knew what it was, you’d seen the shape etched into Nolan’s ankle far more times than you could count. It mocked you, the snake coiled up the same way your memory sketched it out in your brain, and now it was imprinted perfectly into your skin. You touched it, rubbed it, tried to wash it off. You had just taken a shower, just washed the day off of you and down the drain and now you were standing in the middle of a hotel bathroom, rubbing at the spot between your breasts mercilessly. This couldn’t be happening, not to you, not when Nolan was about to move thousands of miles away from you. 

But it was happening, because the black line that followed no real pattern never faded, despite the skin around it turning raw from your insistent attempts at washing it off. It was here to stay, no matter what happened in your life down the road. It didn’t matter that you had no heads up, no warning that you were falling head over heels in love with your best friend. 

You knew it wouldn’t wash off, but that didn’t stop you from trying. These tattoos were forever, you knew that. You learned from a ripe, young age about obtaining your love’s tattoo. You learned about it growing up, you talked about it with friends and family, hell this wasn’t even your first tattoo that wasn’t your own. You knew the drill, you knew the routine, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. 

You were 18, watching him sign contracts and make agreements of his big move in a few short weeks. You couldn’t believe it, that you were losing him in a time like this. It made dropping him off at the airport all that much harder, cheeks wet and eyes bloodshot as you clung to him for dear life. You knew his parents wanted to say bye, that his sisters were waiting patiently while you cried into his shoulder, but you couldn’t let go.

He didn’t know about the snake on your sternum, nor did you plan on telling him. You couldn’t drop a bomb like that on him just before he moved to a different country, finally living out the dream he’d had ever since you could remember. Nolan wasn’t Nolan without hockey, and you were aware of that. You were painfully aware of that. 

So you didn’t tell him. 

You spent too many nights curled up in your bed, clinging to your pillow to muffle the whimpers and whines that pushed through your lips and out into the air. You tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest at any given moment, and you did everything in your power to keep everything under wraps. You couldn’t tell anyone, no matter how bad it hurt to be in love with your best friend that now lived so far away from you. 

It was hard, hiding it. You had to hide it from your family and friends, and sometimes that was easy. During the cold months you were seemingly off the hook, but when summer rolled around and your friends dragged you out to the lake every chance they got, you were in a bit of trouble. You had to carefully choose what bathing suits you wore and had to make sure nothing slipped or faltered throughout the day. 

You’d made it three years without a slip up. Even on nights when Nolan came home and you were mere inches away from him, you couldn’t find it in you to tell him. Even when he was curled up into your side and holding you against his chest in the most comfortable way, you couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t make a move on him. 

And now you were in Philly, standing in an arena that had you shivering but smiling brightly from the opposite side of the glass. You smiled every time Nolan skated by, even more when he assisted Travis in the first goal of the game and scored one of his own late in the second period. You were buzzing, adrenaline pumping and excitement shining deep in your chest. Watching Nolan do what he loved would never get old, not when the smile he wore was enough to wash away any fear or worry you’ve ever had. 

You remember nights when you couldn’t sleep and Nolan would hold you. You remembered nights when you were crying over the phone to him and he snuck out of his room and into your own. You remembered fights you had and the way he made you walk home one night after one of your bigger ones. 

You were walking out of TIm Horton’s, mere feet away from Nolan’s car before you tumbled into an argument you’d been trying to avoid for a few days now. You were dating Cory at the time, and Nolan couldn’t believe you were telling him that you couldn’t go to his game on Friday night, regardless of the fact that you’d promised him for weeks now that you’d be there. It was hard for you to catch games during the week, but this one was on a Friday night with plenty of time for you to finish the school day and drive over to Brandon. 

But now you were telling him that you couldn’t go, and no matter how sorry you were, Nolan couldn’t forgive you. He said you’d blown him off for Cory more times than he could accept anymore. You had to call your sister, figuring she was the only one that would pick you up and give you a ride home without threatening to leave you in the parking lot in favor of beating Nolan to a pulp. 

None of that mattered though. None of it mattered when you were faced with the boy you’d fallen in love with doing the thing he cherished most. When he left the locker room with a smile brighter than any of his teammates had seen in a long time that was directed straight at you, you knew none of it mattered. 

Your feet left the ground, hanging in the air while your best friend clung to your frame tightly. He thanked you for coming, told you that he scored the goal just for you, that he scored every goal for you. You figured it was the adrenaline talking, that he was just basking in the big win against their biggest rivals. That plus the fact that Nolan could barely come to terms with the fact that you were here all for him. 

You’d been in Philly before, had visited Nolan a few times over his years with the Flyers. You’d met practically everyone there was to meet and had gotten fairly close with his closest friends by default, seeing as they were always around when you were. Everything was going well this time around, everyone was having fun and getting along and it almost seemed like nothing could fall out of place. 

You were standing in the kitchen with Nolan and Travis when Nolan’s name was called, beckoning him out into the rest of the house while you and Travis rallied drinks for the group. He tried to ignore them, tried to help you pile up on wine and beers for the rest of the group but Travis practically kicked him out of the kitchen. Travis said he could help you, that the two of you didn’t need Nolan’s help and that someone else clearly did. 

It took all of five minutes for Travis to spill red wine all over your shirt. Thankfully for him, the few glasses you’d thrown back throughout the night washed over any sense of anger or annoyance you’d usually pick up and you simply laughed it off. He felt so bad, begged you to forgive him and let you buy him a new shirt, but all you did was insist that he find you a new one for now and that you could figure out the rest of it when the two of you weren’t tipsy and surrounded by your friends. 

Travis ducked out of the kitchen for a second before turning back up and leading you into a hallway on the other end of the house. He told you that Claude never really let them wander his house without a little supervision, claiming that they break everything that they touch, but this was a special case. Claude loved you, and he wasn’t going to let you walk around with a wine stained shirt for the rest of the night, especially when it’s Travis’s fault in the first place. 

You laid back on the bed in the room you were unfamiliar with, smiling up at the ceiling and humming to yourself while Travis dug through Claude’s closet. 

“I know Ryanne has a stack of those shirts somewhere.” he spoke gently to himself, refraining from throwing clothes all over the room and instead digging for one through multiple piles. You laughed to yourself, not even sure if he knew that you could hear him. 

“Just pick one, Teeks!” he huffed and chucked one at you, laughing loudly when it landed directly on your face. 

You whined and sat up, reaching for the hem of your shirt without much thought surrounding the subject before peeling it off. All you could think about was how sticky your stomach had gotten from the red spot. 

It was the small gasp that got you, the one that brought you back down to Earth and tore you out of your wine-induced haze. It was Travis’s eyes locked in on the spot in the middle of your chest that triggered every panic siren in between your ears. 

“Is that-”

“TK you can’t tell him.” you rushed out, pushing yourself to stand up as you pressed a bright orange Flyers shirt against your chest. Your hands were shaking, and Travis’s eyes were glued to the spot of the tattoo even without being able to see it anymore. He knew what that snake was, he knew it all too well. He’d known Nolan for a long time now, and he’d seen the snake enough times to commit it to memory. 

He was sure you had Nolan’s snake in the middle of your chest, and now Travis knew you were in love with Nolan. 

“Trav, I’m serious.” he shook his head, trying to clear himself of the intrusive thoughts and nodded gently. He couldn’t tell Nolan. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to keep that from him, especially when he had been looking for your tattoo on Nolan’s skin for years now. 

Travis wasn’t dense. He saw the way that Nolan looked at you, heard the tone he used when he talked about you. He saw how excited Nolan got when he knew you were about to fly into Philly, and he saw how upset Nolan got when you left. He might not have been the brightest bulb in the box, but he knew that there was something lying under the surface of you and Nolan’s friendship. 

He tried to have this conversation before, had tried more times than he could count at this point. The only difference now was that there was hard proof, there was evidence that he was right all along. But now he couldn’t use that evidence, not when you were looking at him with wide eyes and begging him to keep it between the two of you. 

“Fine, but we’re talking about this before you go back home.” you nodded, figuring that it was good enough for you if it meant he never told Nolan about it. 

Except, there was one small problem.

The door swung open, dark and narrowed eyes landing on you and Travis, less than a foot between the two of you with you topless, a single shirt held between your hands and in front of your chest. 

“My best friend?” the disappointment in his voice tugged at your heart and punched you in the gut simultaneously. The guilt hanging in your chest was barely justified, given this was one large misunderstanding, but the look on Nolan’s face was enough to have your shoulders falling. 

“Nolan, it’s not-”

“My best fucking friend? Of all people you had to choose him?” his eyes were wide and glued to yours, anger mixing with disgust in the back of his mind. He couldn’t believe you’d do this to him. 

“Pat, you don’t understand-” 

“Fuck you.” Nolan spoke slowly and clearly, shooting Travis the sharpest glare he could produce. His voice sent a chill down your spine, unsure if you had ever heard him speak with such malice. “Both of you.” 

Nolan spun on the balls of his feet and left the room, but you didn’t let him get far before you were following him. You tugged the shirt over your head, not even bothering to turn back to Travis to apologize before you were running after Nolan, calling his name down the hallway. 

“Nolan, please-”

“I don’t want to hear it, honestly.” he threw over his shoulder, but you weren’t accepting that. You weren’t going to let him walk away right now, not when you didn’t do anything wrong. 

“Just listen to me!” you stopped walking, stopped running. You stood in the middle of a hallway that had pictures lining the walls around you. Smiling faces and cheery laughs suffocated you in a time where you stood toe to toe with your best friend, the same one who was looking down at you like he’d never known you. “You don’t get to assume things and just walk away!”

“Yeah, well you don’t get to come out here after not seeing me for six months and sleep with my best friend! You don’t get to do that to me! You don’t get to use me to sleep with professional athletes.” any words you had swimming through your mind halted at his accusation. They fizzled out, unable to produce a coherent thought after you heard your best friend accuse you of using him. 

“After all this time, you think i’m using you? You think that I came here to sleep with Travis?” 

“You want to know what I think? I think you’ve always used me. You used me to escape your awful boyfriend in high school and you used me to leave home when things got bad. You used me to get over your shitty boyfriend when he left you in the fucking dust and here you are now, using me to sleep with my best fucking friend.” you were in shock, lips parted and throat constricting as you tried to let his words sit. 

“If you wanted to whore yourself out to NHL players, you should’ve just said so, puck bunny.” The nickname weighed heavily in your chest, bringing you back to a time where Nolan went on and on about how much puck bunnies got under his skin. It brought you back to a time when Nolan would never call you that, would never even put you and the name in the same conversation.

“Patty!” Nolan’s eyes left yours, casting over your shoulder and locking with another pair that he might have been more furious at. Sure, he was angry at you. He couldn’t believe you’d do something like this, not after growing up with him just a few houses down. He couldn’t believe you’d stoop this low, but Travis? Travis knew how Nolan felt about you. Even if he didn’t admit it, even if he’d never say that was all true, Travis knew. He knew better than anyone how Nolan felt, and that made it all the more worse. 

“Don’t talk to her like that.” you bit down on your bottom lip, hard enough to sting slightly but you couldn’t look away from where your eye level left you. You couldn’t look up at Nolan, not when he was this angry at you, and you surely couldn’t look at Travis. You knew that’d only make things worse. 

“Now you get to tell me how to talk to her? Does that mean the two of you are a thing now? That’s funny, seeing as you have a girlfriend, Teeks. Didn’t know you were into home wrecking, y/n.”

“Fuck you.” you spoke softly, not even sure if he had heard you before he looked down at you with a puzzled look stretched across his face. 

“So I can pick up TK’s sloppy seconds? No thanks, angel.” you shoved him then, shoved him hard. He didn’t move much due to the way his feet dug into the ground and he had muscle on you, but you got your point across by the force delivered to his chest. 

“You’re a dick, you know that? You walk into a room and think you know everything that’s going on, but you don’t, okay? You don’t know what happens when you’re gone. You don’t know what happened in there or what happens at home when you’re here. You don’t know anything, okay?” 

“That’s bold, given that I just walked in on you topless, seconds away from kissing my best friend, y/n-”

“Is there a reason you feel the need to keep reminding me that Travis is your best friend?”

“Because I need you to know that you’re not.” 

The world titled on its axis then, the rude awakening you’d walked into becoming all too much for you to handle. With the realization that Nolan wanted nothing to do with you, you nodded once and walked around him so you could leave. It was only then that you noticed the audience you’d gathered, the better half of the Flyers roster circled around the room with a few of their significant others. You flashed everyone a pained smile and thanked Claude and Ryanne for inviting you before leaving the house. 

You weren’t even down the driveway when your lungs gave way, gasping for air while tears streamed down your cheeks. Your heart hurt and your stomach turned, and you knew it was going to be a long night. 

“You really are a dick.” Travis was going to walk past him, was going to avoid the lot of people and follow you outside. He knew you didn’t know where you were, nor did you have a way to get to or from anywhere else. You could order an uber to Nolan’s, but then what? Kevin might let you into the apartment but where would you stay? On the couch in a living room you weren’t welcome in? Not likely. 

“I’m the dick? You know how I feel about her!”

“Nothing happened!”

“Bullshit, TK! I know that look on your face and I know that she sure as hell looked embarrassed-”

“I spilt wine on her shirt, you fucking idiot! I knocked into her when we were in the kitchen and I made her entire glass of wine spill down the front of her shirt, so I went to get her another one. I didn’t want her to sit in a soaking wet, stained shirt for the rest of the night so I went to get her another.” 

“And she changed in front of you because-?”

“Because she was drunk and knew I wouldn’t make a move on her. Because she knows that I respect you and care about you far more than I care about making a move on her. I don’t look at her that way, Pat. You know I would never do that to you.” Nolan sucked on his teeth then, casting his eyes away from Travis’s and looking down at his feet. 

“Do I?” Travis scoffed then, not bothering to give Nolan a response before walking past everybody else and out to his car. 

After a few minutes of driving around, he found you at the park just down the street, leaning against the chain that supported the swing you sat on. He couldn’t see your tears from his car, but he could see the way you flinched when he shut the car door behind him. 

“You okay?” you shook your head, eyes filled to the brim with tears that blurred your vision and broke Travis’s heart. 

“I’m in love with him, Teeks. I love him more than anything in this entire world and he thinks I’m using him. He t-thinks- he thinks I-” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Travis pulled you onto your feet and into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you in order to attempt to calm you down. 

“He thinks-” your sobs rang through the air, piercing through Travis’s heart and resulting in him squeezing you tighter, letting you get all of it out while no one else was around. 

“He doesn’t think that. He knows you’re not using him, he just can’t bear to think about you with anybody other than him.” you shook your head, not allowing yourself to believe Travis, even though he knew Nolan pretty well. If there was anything to know about Nolan, you or Travis would know about it. 

“He loves you, okay? He loves you more than he knows how to handle and he can’t handle losing you before he’s even had you.” you flinched when a car backfired, jumping inches off of the ground and making Travis laugh gently from beside you when you let out a shaky breath of relief. 

Your eyes found the familiar car drive by, slowing down the slightest bit by the park only to take off towards the entrance of the neighborhood quite quickly. You knew it was Nolan, you knew that car by heart. 

You ended up on Travis’s couch the night, wrapped in a warm pair of sweatpants that Travis threw in the dryer for you before giving them to you. You tied the drawstring in a tight knot so they’d stay up and pulled on a hoodie that he offered to you shortly after. He listened to you reminisce on all of the memories you had with Nolan. He learned more about his best friend and who he was growing up, but also learned a fair amount about you as well. 

He felt for you. He couldn’t believe Nolan said all of those things to you, but he also knew that Nolan must not be doing well right now. He texted Kevin when he got back to his apartment, saying that you were safe with him, and that he’d text Nolan but didn’t for obvious reasons. Kevin assured Travis he’d let Nolan know you were safe, despite Nolan not asking about your well being. Not that he hadn’t thought about it, but he figured if he asked he’d be left with a less than likable answer. 

Nolan didn’t sleep well that night, replaying how bad he fucked up over and over again in his mind. He didn’t believe you at first, didn’t even believe Travis when he told him what truly happened. He did, however, believe his captain when he said that Travis asked him for a shirt for you just a few minutes before it all happened. Ryanne brought out your wine soaked shirt after the two of you had left, and despite Nolan coming to terms with the fact that he was wrong, he couldn’t forgive himself for the things he said to you. 

He couldn’t believe he accused you of it all before going on to accuse you of using him for your benefit. He knew it was stupid, since you’d been around far before the NHL. you were there when he got drafted, you were there when he was named captain of the Wheat Kings, and you were there when he almost quit hockey when he was younger. He remembered having you by his side through everything growing up and even now, even while living so far away from each other. If he called, you answered. If he needed help, you helped him. Hockey had nothing to do with that. 

He looked down at the butterfly on his thigh, the one that took residence right beside another one of his tattoos, one that he had to keep hidden from you for well over two years now. He traced his finger over the small image, let his mind wander over all the possibilities of where yours could be if you had a snake somewhere inked into your skin. It’s a thought he often had, wondering where you’d want it, if you’d want it. 

By the time Nolan came to his senses, it was too late. He’d already gotten through an entire practice and by the time he got back, by the time he got home, he realized you were gone. Your things that were piled into a corner of his room were gone. The jersey he’d given you for the game against the pens was folded up nicely on the pillow of his bed and a sticky note with your unmistakeable handwriting on it left a hole in his chest. 

I’m sorry I ever made you doubt me. 

He couldn’t reach for his phone fast enough, couldn’t call you enough times to break your voicemail box. He called Travis, pained to hear that you were already on a flight back to Winnipeg. He wanted to leave, wanted to drive to the airport right this second and catch a flight back home to tell you he’s incredibly sorry, but he couldn’t. He had a roadie in a few days and a game tomorrow night and he couldn’t just leave. 

He did his best to contact you, tried to call every person in your family and was disappointed every time. Even when both of his sisters sat down and called him to collectively tell him that he was the biggest idiot either of them had ever met. Nobody could believe Nolan blew you off like that, not even Nolan himself. 

He knew he fucked up, but he hadn’t realized how bad he fucked things up until one of your friends from back home posted a picture of you on social media a few months later. It had been at least four months since he’d spoken to you, since he saw you. It had been too long of him having nothing but the sliver of content he got from social media. He hated that his friends had chosen your side in the thick of it all, though he guessed it was easier to do that with him in Philadelphia and the rest of you in the same place. 

But it wasn’t until a picture of you with a wide smile and a new bathing suit popped up on his phone that he knew the true weight of the situation in front of him. There you were, in a baby blue bathing suit that showed the same shape between your breasts that he’d grown up with beside his ankle. His tattoo was committed to memory, ingrained into his brain with no room to forget about it, especially when he saw it on you, etched into your skin the same way it had been etched into his. 

He thought back to the paper airplane on your shoulder, the mark that had haunted him for years. He hated your boyfriend, hated the sight of his tattoo on your skin. He hated everything that had to do with the sheer thought of you with somebody else, even if he didn’t know how to deal with that. And now, with his thumb sitting on the butterfly on his thigh and his eyes on the snake on your sternum, he knew he had to fix this. He knew he had to fix things because these tattoos, though permanent themselves, didn’t guarantee him a life as your boyfriend, nor your husband. 

Nolan remembered a time when he thought these tattoos were stupid. He remembered when he thought it was a thing for soulmates and you told him that thought was wrong, that it just reminded you of a love you felt, even if it was eventually lost. He remembers you telling him that you were scared you’d never be loved forever, that you were scared to only be loved momentarily. 

But that wasn’t the case. Nolan would never stop loving you. He couldn’t forget about the way your laugh brightened his day without question, or the way your nose scrunched when you laughed. He couldn’t forget about the way you bugged him for ice cream on a bad day, or how good you looked with his name and number stretched across your back. 

He couldn’t remember a day he wasn’t in love with you. 

So Nolan flew to Winnipeg the second the Flyers’ season was over. He didn’t bask in getting knocked out of the playoffs like some of the other guys, didn’t dwell on the loss in the sixth game of the series because he couldn’t. He couldn’t dwell on a loss when he was so focused on trying to prevent a second one. 

He had called everybody he could think of once he got off the plane. Some didn’t answer, some didn’t know the answer to his question, and some just flat out refused to humor him. You weren’t home, he knew that much by the absence of your car in the driveway and your sister telling him that you weren’t there, and that she wouldn’t let him inside even if you were. It wasn’t until he rounded a familiar corner after a phone call he’d been thankful for. 

Jordan told him where you were, unable to lie to his childhood friend when you were hanging out with everyone. You were wearing a bathing suit again, though it didn’t matter for a while. The sun was high in the air and you weren’t the only that had shed yourself of your coverup earlier in the afternoon. You were playing basketball with Jordan, oblivious to the fact that he’d given you up just ten minutes prior to the gate door swinging open and Nolan letting himself into the backyard. 

Your eyes found him easily, as if he was a magnet you could never repel. Your shoulders fell for a moment, your instinct of wanting to comfort him seeping in before you could tell it not to. Of course you kept up with his team, watching every game you possibly could until the very last one. You knew he’d been knocked out of the playoff less than 48 hours ago, and you had no idea he was coming home. 

You hadn’t realized the weight of the situation until you noticed his eyes locked in on your chest. You folded your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover the snake, but it didn’t make Nolan look anywhere else. 

“Who told you I was here?” your voice was soft. You knew he didn’t drive around the entire town looking for your car, though you weren’t sure it was something too far out of his reach. Nolan would do just about anything to get something if he wanted it bad enough.

“Bo did.” you glared at the boy not far from you, the one that you shouldn’t have trusted with something like this in the first place. You should’ve known Jordan would do something like this. 

“Patty, what the fuck?”

“Just shut up, Bo.” Jordan rolled his eyes and tossed the basketball to Nolan who smacked it away and into the grass. 

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” you tried to stand your ground, even with Jordan giggling to himself before walking over to your friends not too far from where you currently stood. 

“Just give me five minutes.”

Nolan’s eyes bore into yours, the same pair of bright blue eyes that you had been avoiding for months. You wanted to answer every call and every text, but how could you? How could you pick up the phone and listen to his voice through the speaker after all he’d said to you in front of his entire team. And then on top of it all, he left you stranded in Philly, in the middle of a city, country even, where you had nobody to turn to and nowhere to go. 

“I know you don’t want to talk to me-”

“Then leave, Nols.” he shook his head, taking a step towards you. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I know I hurt you-”

“You’re right! You hurt me! You hurt me so bad Nolan and I can’t go through that again so if you’re here to let history repeat itself, then can you just go?” he shook his head, firmly planting his feet into the ground and refusing to move. 

“I know you don’t want to see me or listen to me or give me the benefit of the doubt but I need you to hear me out.” you sighed, letting your arms fall to your side. You weren’t sure how he seemingly broke down all of your walls without even lifting a finger. You watched his eyes flick down to the image on your chest, you even let him raise a finger once he stood in front of you and trace the shape of the snake. “It suits you, y’know?”

“Did you really come all this way to tell me that this suits me?” there was a hint of amusement in your voice, enough of it to bring a smile to Nolan’s lips. 

“I know I fucked up-”

“Big time.” you cut him off, shooting him a gentle smile and nod that told you you’d stop interrupting him. “Sorry, continue.”

“I know I fucked up and I said a lot of shit I didn’t mean and that’s not an excuse but- look, I know i shouldn’t have said all of that shit. I should’ve believed the two of you. I should’ve believed you when you told me nothing happened and I shouldn’t have said you were using me. I know you’re not using me. There was no way you could’ve known that I was going to be in the NHL, and you wouldn’t have stuck around all this time just to be a puck bunny.” 

It wasn’t like you to forgive all that easily. You drew lines in the sand and refused to let someone fuck you over twice. You weren’t big on second chances, especially when you thought people didn’t deserve them. You were a straight shooter, no bullshit. But those walls cracked for Nolan, they fell for Nolan. None of your boundaries were drawn in place with Nolan in mind. He had broken down every wall, overstepped every boundary since the day he met you. You couldn’t block him out, couldn’t lead him out of your life. 

As much as you hated to admit it, you needed Nolan Patrick. You were in love with Nolan Patrick. 

And the little butterfly on his thigh told you that he loved you all the same. 

Your lips turned up at the sight, your eyes locked in on the place where his shorts had ridden up and the small image danced happily on his skin. 

“How long have you had that?” you pointed down at it, barely noticing the way his eyes stayed trained on you through the entirety of the situation. You were looking at his tattoo, but he was looking at you. He was always looking at you, which only made it that much more surprising that he hadn’t picked up on the snake on your chest. 

“Since before I got drafted.” he spoke softly, hitting you with a force you didn’t know existed. You were floored by the realization, somewhat thinking that he’d only had it for a small bit of time. You’d seen his thighs, seen his tattoos and you’d never seen the small butterfly etched into his skin. 

“How long have you had that?” his finger traced over the snake one more time, sending a chill down your spine that you had felt more times than you could count when you were around Nolan. It was a feeling that was never expected but always welcome. 

“Draft day.” you breathed out, feeling the weight of the world lift off of your shoulders. You were finally admitting it, finally letting the love of your life know just how long you’ve been a mess for him. Little did you know how much of a mess he was for you. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n.” 

“It’s okay.” you spoke softly, a smile gracing your lips at the realization that things were falling back into place, even after all this time of not talking to him. 

“It’s okay?” you nodded, taking another step toward him so you were chest to chest. 

“As long as you don’t fuck it up again.” he let out a small laugh, his hands finding the sides of your face just before pressing his lips to yours. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

-

italics mean it wouldn’t let me tag you!!

nolpat tag list; @extratragic​ @babytkachuks​ @teenagekook​ @stfukie​ @kiedhara​ @sadcupofcoffee​ @sidscrosbyy​ @rebel-without-care @baby-cat-nol-pat​ @creator-appreciator​ 

tagging the himbos as well; @bricksatlandyswindow​ @damndunner​ @anxietyandtacos​ @sortagaysortahigh​ @dmonchld​

[nol-an]

when our stars aligned || n. patrick

hello everyone! i’m super excited to finally be posting this slow burn, friends-to-lovers fic that has been in the works for almost a month now!

grab a drink and some snacks, this one’s 12.5k words (and not proofread oops)! as always, feedback is appreciated <3 enjoy!

__________

+ her

Your sweater-clad figure collapsed into your plush mattress as soon as you finished your last assignment for the day. After a hell week of university, you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your night de-stressing and indulging in the bottle of wine that had been calling your name since the beginning of the week. You wanted nothing more than to catch up on the Bachelorette —because who doesn’t love trash TV— and to coil yourself in blankets for the rest of the night. 

On the other hand, your best-friend-slash-roommate, Maya, had different plans. She was fully convinced that the only proper remedy to your school-induced slump was a night out on the town. However, you knew that Maya’s plans for you would really just result in you third-wheeling her and her boyfriend, Joel. You don’t even need to ask your friend to know that Joel would be coming along too because the two were a package deal. Although you don’t mind Joel and think he’s a wonderful match for your long-time friend, the last thing you need is to be awkwardly tagging along with the sometimes overly-affectionate couple.

After a back-and-forth negotiation that seemed to last hours, you finally agreed to Maya’s proposition after she offered to wash the dishes and take out the trash for the next two weeks. You still expressed that you wouldn’t be happy if you came across any Bachelorette spoilers while you were out with Maya and Joel, but eventually, your mind became occupied by thoughts of what to wear. Deciding not to think too much into your outfit, you settled for a Pittsburgh Penguins pullover and your comfiest pair of black jeans. You sprayed yourself with perfume and glanced in your mirror one last time before leaving your room with the hopes of returning to your tempting bed soon.

As Joel’s car pulled into the parking lot of your and Maya’s apartment complex, you soon noticed a figure in the passenger seat. Squinting to see if you recognized the man, all you could deduce was that he had long hair and florid cheeks. Turning to Maya in confusion, your best friend looked unbothered as a grin spread across her face at the sight of her boyfriend. You trailed behind her as she jogged towards Joel’s car. She promptly gave him a peck on his cheek before giving the stranger in the passenger seat a hug. Huh, so maybe he wasn’t a stranger after all.

It only took you a few seconds afterwards to realize what was going on.

You were going to kill Maya.

As if she read your mind, your best friend waved you over to the car. Deciding to play nice for the sake of Maya and her excitement, you plastered on your best I-don’t-want-to-be-here-but-you-don’t-know-that smile, and greeted the two guys.

“Y/N, this is Nolan, one of Joel’s friends,” Maya explained. “I know you said you didn’t wanna third wheel, so Joel and I, being the wonderful friends we are, took what you said to heart,” she laughed as she watched your smile twitch a little.

It always took you a while to warm up to strangers and being your best friend of three years, Maya knew you were going to give her an earful after the night was over. So, she figured she’d at least have some fun while she was at it. Your eyes sent daggers in her direction before you waved at Joel and stuck your hand out to greet Nolan.

Other than his small smile that you would’ve missed if you weren’t as observant, Nolan didn’t give much indication that he wanted to be here, either. Great. You couldn’t read his expressions, but you hoped to god that this night wouldn’t be as awkward as you think it’s going to be.

Shortly after the introductions, you and Nolan are squeezed into the back of Joel’s car as him and Maya bicker over who should get the aux. Rolling your eyes, you turn to Nolan, who looks quite amused at the couple’s antics. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to break the ice, you attempted to start a conversation with Nolan.

“I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve been stuck in the same space as Joel and Maya, either?” you joked.

He chuckled and angled his body a little closer towards you. “Unfortunately it’s not. If I’m being honest, this is not how I envisioned my Friday night going.”

Immediately processing his own words, a blush formed across his cheeks. “I- that’s not what I meant. I mean, I’m sure you’re a wonderful person, but Joel told me that we were getting food with Maya. I didn’t know this,” he used his right hand to gesture around the car, “was his actual plan,” he explained.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips, your eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m in the same boat. No one mentioned that you were coming, but honestly, I’m glad I’m not third-wheeling because I wanna puke every time they get too lovey-dovey.”

Nolan nodded in agreement, “You know what, Y/N? I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”

Relieved that Nolan was a lot less intimidating than you initially thought, you agreed with his comment and thanked the gods that this night was starting to look up.

“But there is one issue,” Nolan spoke up.

Your raised eyebrows cued him to speak again.

“I don’t know how I feel about that Pens sweatshirt of yours.”

+ him

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” an amused Kevin Hayes emerged from his room. He’d been living with Nolan for quite some time now, but the last thing he expected was to wake up to the sight of his roommate organizing their apartment, dust swiffer and all. There was even a vase of fresh flowers that Kevin sure as hell didn’t buy or remember seeing last night.

“Isn’t it fucking obvious, Hayesy? I’m cleaning the place,” Nolan deadpanned.

“Ok firstly, no shit. I was hoping you’d explain why you’re cleaning. I didn’t even know we had this much cleaning supplies,” Kevin quipped back, glancing over at the array of window and wood cleaner that was haphazardly strewn across the kitchen counter.

“Y/N is coming over,” Nolan curtly responded. He didn’t need to turn his focus away from scrubbing away the stove top’s stains to know that his roommate had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I thought you said the two of you were just friends?”

“Can’t friends hang out?” Nolan retaliated.

“Sure, they can. But why are you disinfecting this whole place? Teeks comes over all the time and you never do this for him,” Kevin pointed out. He knew Nolan enough to know that you weren’t “just a friend.” Nolan talked about you way too much for that to be the case.

“It’s the first time she’s coming over. I just don’t want her thinking we live in a pigsty,” Nolan started, “which is gonna be a little difficult considering you leave your shit all around the place. Plus, don’t act like you’ve never cleaned the place up when you’ve had someone over.”

Kevin was having a little too much fun messing with Nolan. “Okay, first of all, that was one time. And it was for a girl I liked,” Kevin enunciated his last word.

Nolan knew Kevin had a point, but he’d be damned if he let Hayesy know that. Nevertheless, Nolan’s silence gave it away, and that was all Kevin needed to rest his case.

“Deny your feelings all you want, but I know you like her — even if you don’t even know it yourself. Don’t be surprised when I say ‘I-told-you-so,’” Kevin laughed as he headed towards the front door. “m’Gonna head out, but text me if you need anything. Maybe confess your feelings for Y/N while you’re at it.”

Nolan flipped off his roommate. Sometimes he was sure that Kevin was a middle-schooler trapped in a grown man’s body. Why couldn’t you and him be friends without feelings being involved? Nolan was sure you only saw him in a platonic light and he was perfectly fine with that. If anything, he was glad to have met you — in the few months you’ve been in his life, you’ve become a breath of fresh air from his circle of Flyers friends. Sure, he didn’t think the two of you would talk again after the little number that Maya and Joel pulled, but he was glad that his friendship with you bloomed. Not only was he glad to know someone else to tolerate Maya and Joel’s shenanigans with, but he enjoyed how you made him feel like he didn’t have to maintain any facade. Your welcoming aura appreciated Nolan as the goofy, indie music-obsessed Winnipeg native — not a Flyers centerman who was more often than not, under the microscope of Philly and NHL media. He was perfectly content with the friendship and appreciated the soothing presence you offered. Wasn’t that enough of an indication that the two of you were just friends?

Within the next twenty minutes, three knocks on the door vibrated through the apartment, and Nolan rushed to the door to greet you. A smile gleamed on your face and you greeted Nolan with a hug. Although it was your first time hanging out at Nolan’s place — the two of you usually stuck to more public locations — nothing about the exchange was awkward and for that, Nolan was extremely thankful. He knew his quiet demeanor could sometimes scare people away, but you didn’t seem to mind it. Instead, you were patient with him and understood that the two of you would become more comfortable around each other as time wore on.

After setting your bag down on the key table, you casually dove into a story about how you nearly couldn’t make it to Nolan’s apartment because you were convinced you lost your keys.

It was nice, nothing felt stiff and Nolan was relieved that the two of you were able to skip the formalities that usually occur when someone visits for the first time.

Once you wrapped up your story, you finally took the chance to look around Nolan’s home. From the look on your face, Nolan knew you were expecting the place to look different. Whether or not that look was a good thing, however, he wasn’t sure.

“Nols, if I’m gonna be honest here, I was not expecting you and Kevin to have such an organized place,” you laughed, your light-hearted tone indicating that you meant it in the nicest way possible.

Releasing the breath he was holding, Nolan chuckled a bit. “Well, don’t get used to it. It’s only this clean like once a month,” he laughed while scratching the back of his neck. He almost contemplated telling you all the trouble he went through to make sure the apartment was clean for you, but a nagging voice in the back of his head told him not to. Probably a good call. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Yea, water would be great,” you sat on one of the kitchen’s bar stools and watched Nolan pad over to the fridge. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as you peered into the relatively empty fridge.

The hockey player rolled a chilled water bottle over to you, perplexed by your reaction. “If you have something to say, say it to my face,” Nolan attempted to intimidatingly say. His cheery voice and sheepish smile gave away his tough-guy act, though.

“Just wondering how you have like three things in your fridge. What are you supposed to make with two carrots and eggs?” you chuckled.

Nolan feigned offense. “I’ll have you know that my ultra-busy schedule doesn’t let me go grocery shopping much. You should be honored that I was able to fit you into my agenda.” It wasn’t a lie that time didn’t permit Nolan to go shopping for food often, but he knew that if you wanted to hang, he would’ve found a way to make it work. But that’s normal, right? Friends can be excited to hang out with friends, right?

“So I’m guessing your pantry is just as bad?” you inquired.

“Ever the detective, Y/N,” Nolan confirmed. He opened the pantry door, gesturing to the several empty shelves.

Seconds later, the two of you got into a conversation about your favorite snacks. Nolan wasn’t sure how he found so much entertainment from talking about cookies and chips, but he wasn’t complaining. The discussion eventually moved over to the living space of the apartment, where you and Nolan settled on watching “How to Get Away With Murder” before promptly resuming your increasingly-heated debate on the best snacks.

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore, Nols. How could you possibly like goldfish more than cheez-its?” you seriously questioned.

“They’re the superior snack, can’t do anything about that. That’s like asking me to choose between indie and country music, no competition,” Nolan shrugged.

Promising Nolan that you’d one day convince him otherwise, you let the conversation slowly fade out as the show started. The next few hours passed by in a blur. There were some side-conversations here, and there, but the two of you were mainly focused on the show and enjoying each other’s presence.

You’re not sure when it happened, but you and Nolan started sharing the same blanket. Minutes later, you were curled into his side, your head resting lightly on his right shoulder. You were so close to him that you could feel his body rumble with laughter every time you made a witty comment. Despite the position the two of you were in, things didn’t go further than that. You didn’t think much of it and based on Nolan’s concentration on the show, it didn’t seem like he gave it much thought, either.

It was nice. More than nice, really. You became so comfortable that you had to keep yourself from dozing off. Every once in a while, Nolan’s hand would play with your hair, his gentle movements nearly lulling you to sleep.

Eventually, you two found a good stopping point and you told Nolan that you should start heading home, not wanting to overstay your visit. Although Nolan protested, you insisted that you would definitely find another time to see him soon and that he should hang out with Kevin, who had gotten home just a few minutes ago.

“Text me when you get home, alright?”

“Yea, of course. Don’t watch any episodes without me, okay?” you said, sticking out your pinky to make Nolan promise.

“Only if you bring over some of your homemade chocolate-chip cookies that you talked about earlier,” he bargained.

“Deal,” you waved goodbye to Nolan one last time before slipping out the door. “Tell Hayesy I said hi,” you hollered from down the hall.

Speaking of the devil himself, Kevin walked over to Nolan once he shut the door. Before Kevin could even wipe the smirk off his face, Nolan stopped him.

“Just friends, Hayesy,” Nolan reaffirmed.

+ him

Another few months passed on, and everything proceeded as normal. You and Nolan’s bond inevitably grew, and he could confidently call you one of his best friends. You two made an effort to hang out at least every other week, and your plans ranged from short weekend getaways to study sessions where Nolan attempted to help you cram for tests. Nolan loved every second he spent with you, and he was more than grateful that Maya and Joel had introduced you to him. Eventually, the hang-out regimen that you and Nolan had developed started wavering as the universe had different plans for you two. You had totally forgotten about a major ten page paper you had to do and with the season starting soon, Nolan was back to practices and workout sessions nearly every day.

You two texted and FaceTimed, though, so not all was a lost cause. Especially for Nolan, it felt as if he was spending every minute of his free time talking to or texting you — not that he minded it, anyway. The text conversations were always light-hearted and mostly consisted of funny tweets and song recommendations. Even when you and Nolan called, your minds that were typically flooded with thoughts of school or hockey became more relaxed upon hearing the other’s voice.

After wrapping up a morning skate with Travis, Nolan checked his phones for any notifications.

Hayesy: Y/N is here. Not sure why but she was looking for you.

With panicked eyes, Nolan tried to think of all of the reasons why you’d be at his apartment. The blood nearly drained out of his face at the thought of making plans with you and accidentally forgetting, but he reassured himself that there was no way that was the case.

Is she okay???? Nolan quickly texted before running into the showers.

Nolan had never showered and changed that quickly, and he was almost positive that he put his shirt on backwards as he ran to his car. He mentally cursed Kevin, who for some reason thought it was acceptable to send him a cryptic text about you without any follow-up. You were usually good about texting Nolan about any updates to your life, so Nolan couldn’t help when his mind started conjuring worst-case scenarios.

Once Nolan got to his apartment complex, he sprinted up dozens of flights of stairs thinking that they’d be faster than the elevator. However, coupled with his growing soreness from his earlier workout, each step on the stairs sent rays of pain through his legs and a regret for thinking the stairs would be a good idea.

After it felt like he had run a marathon, the hockey player finally reached his door. He frustratingly searched for his keys, hoping to god you were okay.

Nolan swung the door open with so much force that he was almost sure he’d have to tighten the screws on its hinges. “Y/N?” Nolan called. His frantic eyes searched for your figure, but he was instead met with the sight of his roommate.

“You just missed her,” Kevin replied from the kitchen. In his hand was what looked like a cookie, and behind him was at least three grocery bags. “I told her to stay because I figured you’d be home soon, but she seemed like she was in a rush. Something about a paper she had,” Kevin elaborated, his mouth full of the cookies. “Did you run here from the rink or something? You look like shit,” Hayesy jokingly noted.

Nolan rolled his eyes at his roommate and sighed, genuinely relieved to know that you were alright. As soon as any of the fears of you being hurt left his system, Nolan started thinking about how he would’ve been able to see you had Travis not persuaded him to run extra drills. It had felt like centuries since he last saw you, and seeing you even just for a second would have undoubtedly made his day better. Dammit, Travis.

Deciding he didn’t want to endure any of Kevin’s teasing, Nolan suppressed his disappointment and tried to subtly get more details out of his roommate.

“She didn’t text me about coming over. What did she need?”

“Well, after making fun of us for our empty fridge and pantry, she said gave me all of these bags,” Kevin gestured to the bags behind him. “Said she visited a grocery store nearby and figured she could get some stuff for us, too,” he continued.

A smile graced Nolan’s face as he recalled the conversation you and he shared about his grocery shopping (or lack thereof) habits.

“She also brought over these cookies she made, but I think I’m gonna have to take these for myself,” Kevin grinned, reaching for another cookie from the tupperware container. “Why do my ‘just-friends’ never bake me cookies?” he nearly moaned at the taste of the treats.

“Maybe because you have no restraint and eat cookies that are meant for your roommate, you jerk,” Nolan remarked.

“Hey, I was being nice by telling you she brought these cookies over. If I really wanted to, I could’ve hid these. You can have a bite, though,” he stuck out his already half-eaten cookie in front of Nolan’s face.

Flipping Kevin off, Nolan walked over to the counter with the bags. Pulling out their contents, he slowly started placing everything in the pantry and fridge. In the second bag, he found a box of cheez-its with a small piece of paper tacked on the top.

Doing you a favor by buying you these, no need to thank me. Miss ya lots <3

Under the message, your name was messily etched onto the lined paper along with a smiley face. Nolan could almost hear your feigned-snarkiness through your note.

Once all of the groceries were put away, Nolan returned to his room. He immediately plugged in his phone before pressing your name under his FaceTime contacts. It only took a couple of rings before you picked up. Your hair was in a loose ponytail, large glasses covering your face. You looked exhausted from the stress you were undoubtedly experiencing because of your soon-to-be-due paper, but your positive personality radiated through Nolan’s phone screen nonetheless.

“Should I feel guilty that my snack collection was so pathetic that a busy college student felt compelled to take time out of their day to buy me food?” Nolan joked.

“I felt guilty that we had been friends for months before I found out that your pantry was that pathetic,” you laughed. “But seriously, don’t worry about it. I was in the area and I know you’ve been super busy recently so I figured I could help you out. The cheez-its were the first thing I saw in the store and I thought of you and that conversation we had when I came to your place for the first time,” you sheepishly responded.

Every few seconds, your eyes would dart back to your laptop, where you were taking notes. Nolan knew that you would never want him to think that he was calling you at a bad time, but the laptop’s reflections on your glasses gave away your act. Of course he felt bad, but he was momentarily distracted by the warm feeling that overcame him. It was such a sweet gesture, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t get butterflies at the sound of your confession.

“Y/N you didn’t have to do this, but I really appreciate it. Thanks for the cookies, too. Pretty sure Hayesy destroyed half of the container before I even got home,” Nolan laughed.

“Oh, gosh,” you started, “in hindsight I probably should’ve texted you to let you know I was coming over, but I wanted to surprise you.”

Upon hearing you words, Nolan’s beaming smile grew impossibly wider. And to his dismay, the butterflies came back for a second time.

“Hey, I gotta go but I promise I’ll text you soon. My prof is out for blood with this assignment,” you groaned. “Maybe we can do dinner at your place now that you have more than two things in your fridge.”

Nolan laughed off your banter and nodded in agreement. He felt like a giddy school girl. “Yea, yea of course. We can pick up on ‘How to Get Away With Murder’ while we’re at it.”

“It’s a date,” you flashed him a thumbs up. “Oh, and I think your shirt’s on backwards,” you giggled and tugged at the collar of your own sweater to emphasize your point. Luckily for Nolan, you hung up before you could see his embarrassed expression.

Had it not been for the fact that you called your upcoming plans with Nolan a “date,” he would have cared more about his shirt issue. But, here he was laying in his bed and already counting down the days until he’d get to see you again.

He knew you meant it as a friend date, but could you blame him for envisioning what it’d be like to go on a romantic date with you? He wanted to bake homemade cookies with you, run his fingers through your hair when you were stressed from school, and become consumed in pointless conversations about anything and everything with you. Hell, he even wanted to help you proofread your school papers, even if he’d have no idea what the fuck the Pygmalion Effect is. He adored so many things about you and was more than willing to jump through hoops and hurdles if it meant he could be your source of happiness and support.

And that’s when Nolan knew he was in trouble. He had never let his mind drift this far, and he usually had enough self-restraint to stop himself from envisioning you as his girlfriend. He knew he needed to stop before he dug a hole for himself that he wouldn’t be able to get out of. But if he was being honest, Nolan quite liked the warm feeling he had from the thought of calling you his.

Oh god.

Nolan was so far gone for you. Kevin knew it, his teammates probably knew it from the dozens of times he managed to bring you up in conversations, and now he certainly knew it for himself. What he didn’t know, however, was if you felt the same feeling of anticipation in the pit of your stomach at the thought of being more than just friends.

+ her

After your FaceTime call with Nolan, you finally gathered enough motivation to finish your paper. You weren’t sure if it was because of your excitement to see Nolan or because you were sick of staring at your screen, but you were nonetheless relieved when you sent off the finalized version of your work.

The two of you eventually settled on meeting at his place on Saturday night, which was only a couple of days away.

If you were being frank with yourself, you knew that you were catching feelings for Nolan, but how could you not? He has immaculate music taste, is a great listener, and always knows the best ways to make your off-days better. Not long after you met him for the first time, you had a feeling that it wouldn’t take long for you to want a more-than-friends relationship with him. In fact, it was frightening to acknowledge how much better your life has been now that Nolan is involved. You were a little embarrassed that he was able to sweep you off your feet as quickly as he did, but you couldn’t control how you felt. Well, that’s at least what you kept telling yourself.

You weren’t entirely sure how to deal with your feelings for Nolan. You relied on familiarity and stability in your life, and if Nolan didn’t reciprocate your feelings towards him, there was no doubt all hell would break loose — at least for you. Per every rom-com you’ve ever watched, you were fully aware that unrequited feelings, in most cases, was a one-way ticket to a doomed and awkward friendship. If confessing your feelings towards an indifferent Nolan meant that your friendship with him would be jeopardized, you would gladly keep your thoughts to yourself.

It was hard, though. Sometimes he treated you like you were the only person in the room, and other times, it felt pretty clear that he only saw you in an extremely platonic light. Of course none of your friends could tell the difference between your interactions with the centerman because they always teased the two of you about needing to finally date each other. However, his mixed-signals convinced you that you had a chance with him on some nights and that you were overthinking everything the next.

As much as you wanted to tell Maya about your dilemma, you knew that she was terrible at keeping secrets. In any other circumstance, you would’ve told her that you liked someone the minute you found out. However, considering how her boyfriend’s a teammate of Nolan, it would have been game over if Joel knew. As much as he prided himself on having a tighter seal on secrets than Maya, he wasn’t much of an improvement from your best friend. You considered telling your other friends because you desperately needed someone to vent-out your feelings to, but you didn’t have the energy to explain how you ended up being wrapped around the fingers of a Philadelphia Flyers player.

So, here you were, in bed and confused. You were counting down the days until you’d get to see Nolan again, but you also wish you had more time to figure out what to do about your feelings. Part of you told you that you could handle pushing away your emotions for the few hours you would be with Nolan. The other (and more obnoxious) part of your brain, though, sent blaring red sirens through your body at the thought of your Plan A. It warned you that internalizing your feelings was a terrible idea and that no matter how tempting it would be to pretend like you weren’t falling for Nolan, maybe it’d be better to just rip off the bandaid and tell him.

You went back and forth between your two plans and were sure that if anyone could take a look into your brain, they would be faced with thoughts that were racing around at a million miles per hour. (And they’d probably  have pity on you.)

As if someone was witnessing your inner turmoil fetter within you in real time, it seemed like your prayers for more time were answered when you fell ill with a cold Saturday morning.

Sure, it wasn’t ideal. You sure as hell were not enjoying your congestion and occasional chills, but at least you had plenty of time to sort things out. It was disappointing to know that you wouldn’t get to see Nolan, but he was extremely understanding of your issue. He reassured you that you shouldn’t feel guilty for bailing, especially since you were sick. He even made you promise that you would get plenty of rest and that you wouldn’t apologize for something you couldn’t control.

With those words from Nolan, you took your promise to heart and slipped into a much-needed slumber.

+ him

“So, Patty, care to explain to Teeks what you were planning to use these candles for?” Hayesy teased as he plucked a tealight candle from its spot on the kitchen table.

Kevin knew you and Nolan had made plans for dinner, and he also happened to know that Nolan finally came to terms with his feelings for you. As much as he chirped the younger hockey player, he was glad that Nolan wasn’t beating around the bush anymore. Kevin adored you and had no doubt that you were a perfect match for his friend.

Travis, on the other hand, looked extremely confused. With furrowed eyebrows, he shifted his focus from the television to Nolan, who was sending death glares at his roommate.

“Well, I, um-” Nolan was cut off by Kevin.

“Patty here was gonna have a super-romantic, candle-lit dinner with the girl he’s been pining over for ages,” Kevin excitedly cut to the chase. If a bystander didn’t know any better, they’d think that Kevin was more ecstatic about the dinner than Nolan.

Those words definitely caught Travis’ attention. He got up from his spot from the couch and joined his two friends in the kitchen. “Wow, Pats,” he playfully shoved his friend's shoulder, “took you long enough. Was fully convinced I was gonna have to do something about your weak game.”

Nolan’s eyes widened upon hearing TK’s comments. Was he really that obvious?

He could barely comprehend his feelings for you just a couple of days ago, and he definitely didn’t tell Travis about these newly-discovered feelings yet. He didn’t even plan to tell Kevin about it. He fully intended to have you be the first to know, but Kevin managed to get Nolan to crack.

“Ok, fuck off,” Nolan mumbled. Sure, he was a little slow at realizing his feelings, but better late than never. “Y/N was supposed to come over for dinner tonight, but she’s sick,” Nolan explained. He purposefully left out the fact that he was toying with the idea of confessing his feelings for you after the now-cancelled dinner.

“Oh shit,” Travis was the first to speak up.

“Does that mean you’ll be cooking for us instead?” Kevin added, wiggling his eyebrows towards Nolan and fist-bumping Travis.

“No, I don’t know what it means, but I can tell you right now that there is no way in hell I’m cooking for you two slobs.” Nolan replied. “I was thinking of bringing soup over to her place as a surprise or something.”

At that, both Travis and Kevin’s faces told Nolan that they needed him to elaborate.

“What? She told me that she was craving soup, and Maya is on that road trip with Joel so I figured…” Nolan’s voice gradually decreased in volume.

Travis was the first to interject, “I, for one, think that’s a great idea. Gotta roll with the punches, you know?”

Of course, no conversation between the three guys would be completed without Kevin’s incessant teasing. “We can barely tolerate you when we’re fully healthy — what makes you think Y/N is gonna want to see you while she’s sick?” he chuckled.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” Nolan groaned.

“You know you love me,” Hayesey playfully blew a kiss in Nolan’s direction. “Here, let TK and me help you with the soup. We gotta make sure it doesn’t make Y/N feel worse than she already does,” he suggested.

+ him & her

Staying true to his words, Kevin made sure Nolan’s attempt at making homemade soup went smoothly. After getting a thumbs-up from both of his teammates, Nolan filled some soup containers up and headed over to your place. He opted out from texting you about his arrival just in case you were sleeping and banked on the possibility that you still had a spare key under the small flower pot in front of your door.

Although Nolan nagged you for the key placement and insisted that it was a terrible hiding place for a key, he was grateful that it was still there when he arrived to your apartment’s door. Quietly letting himself in, he set the soup on the kitchen island before softly calling your name.

He quietly treaded to your room, which he’d only been in twice out of the dozens of times he had come over. Once he poked his head into your bedroom, he couldn’t stop his heart from overflowing with adoration for you. You were swaddled in a mountain of pillows and blankets. Your soft snores flowed through the room, and your messy hair partially covered your content face. You looked like you were at peace, and Nolan was glad to see that you were resting up.

The sight of you filled him with joy and he silently thanked his past-self for not calling and waking you up. Snapping himself out of his trance, Nolan had to remind himself that he was probably being extremely creepy. You probably wouldn’t let him live it down if you caught him, and he knew he wouldn’t have any excuse for his compromising position. Well, other than the fact that he was hopelessly falling for you and that everything you did made his feelings for you increasingly clear.

With it being close to dinnertime, Nolan figured that it wouldn’t be much longer until you woke up. He returned back into the living space of your apartment and found a comfortable place on the suede couch as he waited.

Sure enough, 15 minutes later, you emerged from your bedroom. “Nolan?” you softly murmured. The two syllables were coated in drowsiness, and Nolan swore he would’ve done anything to hear you utter his name like that again.

He looked up from his phone and suddenly had to remind himself how to breathe.

You were wrapped in a wool blanket, but a sliver of your sweater peaked out from the part where your blanket couldn’t fully cover. He’d recognize the black and orange pattern anywhere, but what stuck out to him was the “19” that was spread across the corner of your sweatshirt. Well, it was actually his sweatshirt if he wanted to get technical. His heart was beating out of his chest at the sight of you wearing his clothes and if he wasn’t sure if he was falling in love with you before, he was definitely sure now.

“I-, hi, Y/N. M’sorry for coming over like this, but I knew you said you wanted soup, and my mom has the really great chicken noodle soup recipe, and Teeks and Hayesy even helped me even though I’m not really sure if that was the best idea because Teeks almost mistook cinnamon for cayenne but-” Nolan started to ramble. He wasn’t sure why he was so flustered. It was the first time he’d gone out of his way this much for a girl and he was subconsciously stalling just in case you might’ve perceived his act of kindness as something that was way too creepy and something that supposed just-friends don’t do.

“Nols,” you started, “that’s so sweet of you, but you didn’t have to do that! I could’ve just sent for an UberEats so you wouldn’t have had to go through all of that trouble for me.”

Nolan wanted to stop you and let you know that he’d swim across the Atlantic Ocean for you. However, he settled for something a little less revealing. “Don’t worry, Y/N, I promise I wanted to do this. Plus if I didn’t, how would I have gotten to see you wearing my number?” he smirked.

Your gaze slowly descended to your body, where you were in fact wearing Nolan’s sweater. He forgot to take it home the last time he was over at your place, and you couldn’t help that it looked extremely comfy. A rush of blood and warmth flooded through your face. “I started wearing it because I missed you and it smells like your cologne,” you cringed for including that last detail, “but it’s actually so soft and I don’t think I’ll be returning this,” you tightened the blanket around you to emphasize your point.

Were you trying to kill Nolan? His brain was overloaded with emotions and this was probably the nail in the coffin. This was it for him. In the few seconds following your explanation, he knew he’d do everything in his power to get to see you like this for the rest of his life. He was sure a younger version of himself would’ve laughed at him for being so dramatic, but he also knew that his younger-self hadn’t met you yet.

“You pull off the sweater better than I do, so you can keep it,” he cheekily smiled. His eyes couldn’t decide if they’d rather look at your sleep-pampered face or his sweatshirt that engulfed you.

“What rom-com movie did you pull that line from?” you chuckled.

He dramatically gasped, “I’m truly offended.” He also took note of how you’ve been standing in the same place for minutes, “Also, why are you standing so far away? Promise I don’t bite,” Nolan joked while he reached out in your direction with grabby hands.

“I don’t wanna get you sick. Don’t know how your coach would feel if you caught the cold with the season so close,” you reasoned with a playful tone.

“That’s a later problem. Please c’mere, I missed you too much,” his eyes pleaded with yours. How could you say no when he had that look on his face?

You hesitatingly approached Nolan, still trying to keep your distance from him. You genuinely didn’t want to get him sick, but you were also still deciding about whether or not you wanted to bury away your feelings for him or let him know what was on your mind. You weren’t expecting Nolan to come over, and you were now wishing that you spent some of your snooze time on sorting out your Nolan dilemma.

Taking a few strides forward, you reached the coffee table that was only a meter or so away from Nolan. Apparently that distance was still too far for Nolan, though, because he grabbed for your hand and tugged you into his body. His scent instantly overcame your senses and you promptly relaxed into his hold. Your body was awkwardly positioned over his but his tight grip on you, which shifted down to your hips, gave no sign that Nolan wanted you to get off of him. With this signal, you repositioned yourself so each of your legs found a home on either side of his lap. His arms wrapped around your body, and your chest was pressed against his as you nuzzled your head between the junction of his neck and shoulder.

For a while, neither of you said anything. It was a serene moment and truthfully, neither of you needed to exchange words to express how much you both cared for one another. There was no better way to make up for lost time than to fully appreciate the other’s presence, and neither of you were in a rush to get out of the situation that you two were in.

Occasionally, Nolan would pepper kisses along your hairline and twirl your hair along his fingers. Praying that you couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating, he tried his best to calm the thoughts that were incessantly running through his mind. Nolan never wanted this delicate moment to end for multiple reasons. Perhaps the biggest reason, though, was because he was trying to formulate the right way to tell you how he felt about you. He wasn’t sure if he’d find a more perfect time than this one, and he wanted to make sure that everything he was going to say to you would properly express how much he cared for you and wanted you in his life as a more-than-friend.

Another few moments passed before he finally mustered up the courage to break the silence.

“I love you,” he breathed out.

He waited for your response, but was only met with a deafening silence. Unfortunately for Nolan, he never got to see your reaction to his confession because your drowsy state seemed to pull you into another sleeping trance just as quickly as Nolan spoke the three words.

+ her

Following the night that Nolan had come over to bring you soup, the two of you became a lot more physically affectionate. Whether it was cuddles on your couch or hugs that lingered for a little too long, you knew you were chartering into dangerous territory. You didn’t treat any of your guy friends in the same way you did Nolan, and somewhere along the road, you knew this shift in dynamic was precariously dancing between the line of platonic and romantic.

Maya and Joel picked up on it, too. Nearly every chance they got, the two attempted to get you or Nolan to finally confess that things had changed. They were never successful, however. Nolan would always brush off Joel’s inquiries and play off the situation. As for yourself, you ultimately decided to keep your feelings to yourself, too scared to lose the special connection you had with Nolan.

You had done a decent job of keeping your feelings locked away in the depths of your heart until the season opener for the Flyers.

Nolan had asked you to go, and as much as you would love nothing more than to root on your best friend, you were called into work at the last minute. You tried your best to see if any of your other co-workers could pick up the shift, but you were stuck watching the game from your phone as you begrudgingly got through your shift. You couldn’t forget the way Nolan’s excited expression fell after you told him you couldn’t make it and even though your shift was scheduled to end during the game’s third period, there was no way you would have made it to the Wells Fargo Center in time.

After your shift, you took out your phone and swiped through your friend’s SnapChat stories. Since Maya went to the game to support Joel, you had the apartment to yourself. Clicking on your best friend’s name on the app, you smiled as you watched the video that she’d put on her story. The Flyers clinched their first win for the season, and based on Maya’s story, it looked like everyone had gone to a nearby bar to celebrate. Despite the fact that her story was a video of Joel, that’s not what caught your attention.

Instead, it was the sight of a man in the background, his arms draped around a girl who was cozily perched upon his lap. His chin was resting on her shoulder, and you knew from the unmistakable rosy cheeks that the man was Nolan. Although the image lasted no more than a few seconds as the frame of Maya’s camera moved, you suddenly felt yourself become nauseous. Your fingers moved by themselves, torturing you as you watched the video over and over again to make sure you weren’t playing mind games on yourself.

You weren’t sure how to react. A mix of hurt and jealousy swarmed your body, sending shivers of confusion through it. You knew you had no right to be so upset. After all, Nolan and you never had a conversation about where you two stood. You two were still just friends — even though you’ve known for a while that your interactions with Nolan have meant much more to you than you’d let on. For all you knew, you could have been mistaking Nolan’s physical affection for something more. For all you knew, the physical affection never made Nolan’s heart beat race in the same way it did with yours.

Nolan wasn’t yours, but you so badly wish he were. You became increasingly frustrated at yourself for letting your heart believe that there was something more between you and Nolan. You knew you were playing a risky game — a game that you had just lost, because it became painfully apparent that Nolan only ever saw you as a friend. The video continued to play, though your clouded vision and mind drowned out its volume. A teardrop slipped down your heated cheeks and pattered onto your phone screen. You berated yourself with what-ifs, wondering if you could have done anything different to be able to call Nolan yours. Maybe it was never meant to be, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t beat yourself up over the situation.

Ditching your plans to immediately sleep after getting home from work, you made a beeline to the kitchen’s wine cabinet. You now let your tears run freely and let yourself drown in affliction. You didn’t even flinch when Maya and Joel entered the apartment, who both rushed to you with concern after they noticed your tear-splotched shirt and face that was swollen and red from crying.

Not used to seeing their typically calm and collected friend in such a state of disarray, the couple wasn’t quite sure how to approach the issue. For what felt like the first time in forever, you decided to be transparent with your thoughts. You had spent so long compartmentalizing your feelings that the need to let them out and the countless glasses of wine had you admitting your feelings for Nolan to the two. You didn’t want their pity, and you were thankful that they let you speak without interruption. Your words, though slurred, clearly explained how you felt foolish for falling for Nolan in the first place. You explained how your friendship with Nolan had evolved into something much more for you and how you couldn’t pretend like you didn’t love him as more than just a friend anymore.

At the end of your spiel, Maya and Joel shared a knowing look with each other. Maya looked like she was fuming, though she tried her best to maintain composure as she pulled you into a hug. You almost missed the way Joel cursed under his breath, calling Nolan an idiot. They were so sure Nolan had felt something towards you, and weren’t sure how to respond when you drunkenly asked what you did wrong for Nolan to be oblivious to the way that you only had eyes for him.

As much as they loved Nolan, they adored you just as much and felt terrible for the pain that you were going through.

Apparently not terrible enough to postpone movie nights, however. Some time down the road, you, Nolan, Maya, Joel, Travis, and Kevin made a habit of gathering for a few hours each week to watch movies and hang out. You almost forgot about it in your moping state until Maya brought up a few days later that it was your and Maya’s turn to host. The blood drained out of your face when she reminded you, and your first instinct was to come up with an excuse to miss the night at all costs. You didn’t want to ruin the budding tradition, but you weren’t ready to see Nolan either.

As much as it hurt to still be in contact with Nolan, the thought of cutting him off hurt just as much. So, you subjected yourself to the heartache of talking to someone as if you weren’t enamored with. After the night of your break down, Nolan tried texting and calling you as usual. Although you weren’t ignoring him, you kept your texts brief and the phone calls even shorter. You felt bad for creating a wall between you and Nolan, especially since he wasn’t sure what was going on with you. He often asked what was on your mind, but you typically brushed it off and churned out a half-true excuse about being busy with school before cutting your conversations with him short.

Maya understood your discomfort with the situation, and offered to call off the movie night. You quickly objected, not wanting to ruin the night for the others just because you were battling your own demons. You told her that the movie night could go on at your shared apartment, and that you would find something to keep you out of the house for a while.

Your escape from the apartment came in the form of Austin, a boy from your psych class. Although you two didn’t speak to one another much, his kind eyes and bashful smile always led you to gladly agree whenever he’d asked to sit in the open spot next to you in the lecture hall.

One day, after you offered your notes to him for a day he missed, he offered to take you out for dinner in return. Although you were hesitant at first, you couldn’t think of any cons that would weigh out the opportunity for a free meal and spending a few hours with the charming boy. Plus, he had mentioned that he was a transfer student from out of state, and you knew how much you would have appreciated a few friends from school when you first moved to the city. Ultimately agreeing to his proposition, you gave him your number and scheduled the dinner for the same night and time as the movie night.

When the night of your plans with Austin came around, you made sure to leave your apartment before the guys were coming over. Because you felt guilty for skipping on the movie night, you attempted to help Maya set up the snack. However, Maya insisted that you shouldn’t keep Austin waiting and that she could handle the food herself. When you told her about Austin, she was ecstatic for you. She knew how difficult the past week has been for you and nearly screeched with excitement when you told her that you had actual plans for the weekend.

She gave you a hug and reminded you to call her if you were in an emergency before practically pushing you out of the door.

+ her

The night with Austin went better than planned, and you genuinely enjoyed yourself. Not wanting to give Austin any false impressions, you made sure that the night was strictly platonic. Luckily for you, Austin was incredibly understanding. Although you didn’t miss the look of slight disappointment on his face when you told him that you weren’t interested in being anything more than friends, he respected your decision and upheld his offer for dinner.

Quickly, you found out that you two had a similar sense of humor. Austin was easy to talk to and eventually, you opened up to him about Nolan. You nearly apologized for doing so — you weren’t planning to drop your baggage on a boy that you barely knew. However, Austin was surprisingly good at giving advice and even recounted some of his own stories about unreturned feelings. It was nice to be able to talk to someone that could relate to you.

Knowing that Nolan was at your apartment, Austin suggested that you two get dessert and explore the city to make sure that the hockey player would be gone before you got home. At first, you turned down his idea, jokingly arguing that he didn’t have to spend his whole Saturday night with you out of pity. In spite of your protests, Austin promised that he wanted to continue spending time with you and didn’t mind the idea of getting ice cream.

You didn’t return home until it was nearly midnight. You were sure that the boys would have already headed home, since they had a morning skate the next day.

Opening the door, you were shocked to see that everyone was still in the apartment, eyes occupied on the Marvel movie on the television. Your eyes immediately landed on Nolan’s figure, and you contemplated your next actions.

Settling on trying to go unnoticed by the group, you tried your best to discreetly enter your home and head to your room. With everyone's backs turned away from you, you almost made it to your room safely.

You were so close until your keys loudly fell onto the floor as you tried to remove them from the lock. Instantly, everyone’s heads turned to the front door. Someone turned on the living room’s lights, and you became uncomfortably aware of everyone’s attention on you.

You flashed them a smile, and Maya was the first to speak.

“How was your date?” she slyly questioned, making sure that everyone in the room heard her.

You raised an eyebrow at her question. Maya knew that the night with Austin wasn’t a date. However, the way she glanced at Nolan reminded you that he and the other guys, for that matter, didn’t know that. Not wanting to entertain whatever plan she was brewing in her mind, you tried not to acknowledge her question, flashing her a nervous smile.

“You ditched us for a date?” Travis gasped incredulously, clenching his hand above his heart for the added dramatic effect.

“Is that why the cookies were weird? I knew something was wrong with them when I nearly broke a tooth trying to eat one,” Hayesy laughed as an embarrassed Maya threw a pillow in his direction. You chuckled along with the joke, knowing that you should’ve stuck around to help her bake them. You made sure to promise not to miss the next movie night and even reassured Kevin that you would make a fresh batch of cookies just for him next time.

As Joel chimed in with the others about your “date,” Nolan remained oddly quiet.

His body language was stiff, and his eyes were mostly glued to his lap. He was playing with his fingers and refused to look you in the eyes. He almost looked uncomfortable, his smile forced whenever someone made another funny remark. Although everyone seemed oblivious to it, you couldn’t help but notice the way Nolan was biting the inside of his cheek. It was a habit that you noticed before, but you usually only ever saw him do it when he was in deep concentration or thought. You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt to see that Nolan didn’t even acknowledge your presence. Of course he didn’t owe you anything, but your heart didn’t necessarily know that.

You didn’t want to overanalyze anything, though. So, after chuckling at their comments, you headed to your room to remove your makeup and change into the oversized tee shirt and lounge shorts that you had been looking forward to changing into ever since you left the apartment.

“Calling it a night already?”

Upon hearing the question, you nearly had to do a double take. It was the first time you had heard Nolan’s voice all night. The lack of inflection in his voice transformed the previously light-hearted atmosphere thick with tension.

“Um, yea. It’s been a long night and I don’t know how much longer I can keep my eyes open,” you curtly responded with the first excuse that you could come up with, continuing en route to your room without sparing Nolan another glance. You gave everyone in the living space a small wave before you slipped into your room.

Although your reasoning was partially true, you didn’t know if you could handle being so close to Nolan at the moment. The two of you had gotten used to snuggling up together during movie nights and with your current emotional disarray, you didn’t want to put yourself in the position where you had to pretend like you weren’t still hurt at the thought of Nolan not seeing you in the same light that you saw him. And, regardless of how idiotic Nolan’s teammates could act at times, you knew they were pretty observant — especially when it came to you and Nolan’s complex friendship. If you decided to join in on the movie night but sit in any seat that wasn’t next to Nolan, they'd undoubtedly pick up on it.

Even though you thought your excuse was enough to get by your attentive friends, everyone in the room —bar Nolan— exchanged knowing looks with each other after once they heard the lock of your doorknob click into place. They knew how much you loved movie nights and how you were usually a night owl, regardless of how busy your day was. In fact, it was usually you that begged for an extra movie to be played when everyone was ready to call it a night.

More importantly, they knew you had a soft spot for Nolan. They weren’t ignorant to the way you’d sprint through hoops and hurdles to spend time with Nolan, mostly because they noticed how Nolan would go great lengths to see you, too. It had been a while since you last saw Nolan, and they figured that you would jump on the chance to be in your best friend’s presence again. Of course Maya had to play along, pretending as if she didn’t know why you were avoiding Nolan.

Even though Nolan was a little more subtle with his actions and words, it was no secret that Nolan missed you. His question from earlier was his way of asking you if everything was alright and if you wanted to spend time with him, and your deflection to his implied questions told everyone what they needed to know.

They weren’t quite sure what was going on between you and Nolan, but they knew things weren’t the same as they used to be.

Noting the way Nolan’s shoulders sunk after you disappeared into your bedroom, Maya was the first to rise from her seat. The mood of the night quickly became awkward after Nolan’s short-lived interaction with you, and Maya had no intention of having to sit through another hour of the movie if it were going to be this uncomfortable. She also hoped to talk to you before you actually went to sleep.

“Well, I think I’m gonna head to bed, too. I have to pick up an early shift tomorrow,” she explained as she gathered her blankets from the couch. “You’re staying the night, right?” she asked Joel.

Painfully aware of the newfound tension, her boyfriend silently nodded and helped Maya bring the rest of the throw pillows and blankets.

“You all can finish the rest of the movie,” Maya nodded towards Nolan, Travis, and Kevin. “Just lock up on your way out once it’s over. There should be a spare key under the flower pot outside.” Waving to the guys in the living room, Maya tugged Joel into her room and shut the door.

And then there were three.

+ him

Nolan’s jaw was beginning to ache from how hard he was clenching his teeth together. He didn’t know how to take in the rollercoaster of emotions that he had been feeling for the past few days. He wasn’t oblivious to the barrier that seemed to build up between you and him, but he didn’t know how that wall formed in the first place, let alone how to get over it.

He thought the past few days had been rocky, but he was certainly not prepared for his heartstrings to be pulled into so many directions tonight.

Nolan was looking forward to seeing you in person and was more than disheartened to hear that you were out for the night after he awkwardly asked Maya about your whereabouts. Your roommate didn’t go into the specifics of why you were missing out on the movie night, so he was left to his own devices to figure out where you were.

Of course he could’ve texted you, but given your erratic reply rates as of late, he resorted to refreshing his SnapChat and Instagram apps every once in a while to see if you were posting about where you were spending your weekend night.

Nolan wanted to understand why there was a strain in the relationship and more than anything, he needed your reassurance to know that everything was alright. He partly thought you were distancing yourself from him because he had made his feelings for you too obvious and you didn’t see him in that same way. The theory wasn’t even farfetched. His friends always made fun of him for being so whipped for you, and Nolan knew that you hated letting others down. Throughout his friendship with you, he had quickly learned that you would much rather deal with the brunt of someone else’s problems than to let them down. The thought of you distancing yourself from Nolan just because you only saw him as just a friend hurt Nolan, and he needed to let you know that he’d much rather deal with his feelings being unreciprocated than to have you fade away from his life.

Nolan also thought that he said something wrong and made you upset. However, after replaying all of the conversations he had with you leading up to your new treatment towards him, he didn’t know what he would have said that would have made you this indifferent to him.

Your social media gave no hints as to what you were doing, so Nolan let his imagination run wild with all of the reasons why you would’ve skipped movie night, especially when you were usually so excited about them.

When you entered the apartment a few hours after his arrival, Nolan felt his heartbeat begin to thrum as loud as a kick drum. All of the hypothetical situations that were previously occupying his mind were now invaded with thoughts about how good you looked. Nolan recognized the denim jacket you were wearing as the one that you had gotten a few months ago. He had just finished an afternoon practice when you FaceTimed him and couldn’t contain your excitement about finding the “most perfect article of clothing” you’ve ever owned. Although Nolan chirped you for driving so far away just for a jacket, the ecstatic expression on your face that day was one he’d never forget. It was also one that he so desperately craved to see for the rest of his life.

Just as quickly as he was brought out of his slump from seeing you, he was rudely pulled back down to reality after Maya asked you about your date. Needless to say, the warmth that filled his heart left as quickly as it had entered. Jealousy consumed Nolan, and he was momentarily blinded by a pain that he couldn’t quite describe.

As his friends joke around with you, Nolan struggled comprehending the thought of you with another guy. He had no right to be upset, really. Not when he couldn’t muster up the courage to tell you how he felt and especially not when your eyes were twinkling with so much elation.

Throughout the friendship Nolan had developed with you, you never mentioned that you were going on dates or seeking relationships. The hopeless romantic in him let him believe that maybe, just maybe, you were saving your heart for the right person. For him.

However, the breathy chuckle you released after Maya’s question shattered any amount of hope that Nolan had built up. Now, instead of butterflies, Nolan’s stomach was filled with a piercing ache. As if he wanted to punish himself more for not being more vocal about his feelings for you, Nolan attempted to ask you to join the movie night. Sure, maybe he wasn’t exactly direct with his words, but he was hoping you’d pick up on his hint. Nolan shouldn’t have been so surprised when you decided to go to your room instead of joining him and the others, but the already-tense coil in his stomach continued to tighten.

After you went to your room, followed by Maya and Joel, Nolan looked at the remaining people in the room.

“We’re sorry, Pat,” Travis was the first to speak. His words were laced with sympathy, knowing how much his friend was head over heels for you.

Moving from his seat to stand over his younger teammate, Kevin rose from the couch and rubbed Nolan’s shoulder. “Let’s head home, yea?” Kevin attempted to dance around the topic of you.

“I’ll meet you two in the car. Just need to clear my head for a bit,” Nolan muttered to his understanding friends.

Quietly, Travis and Kevin left the apartment, making sure to shut the door carefully as to not disturb their teammate.

+ him & her

Thinking you were in the clear after hearing the front door close, you left your room in hopes of making a mug of tea.

You felt bad for avoiding Nolan, but you didn’t know how else to deal with the thousands of thoughts that cycled through your brain.

To say you were unprepared to see Nolan in your living would be an understatement. His arms were propped on his knees and his face was cradled by his hands. His shoulders were slouched and his tousled hair looked as if he had run his hands through it multiple times.

You weren’t sure if you should’ve just turned back around and locked yourself in your room, but your instincts beckoned you to come closer to Nolan. No matter how hurt you were, he was your best friend first and foremost. If there was anything you could do to bring him out of his clear distress, you would do it without a second thought.

“Nolan?” you meekly called out his name.

Nolan slowly moved his head just enough so he could hear the source of the sound. Unintentionally mimicking your facial expression, he looked just as stunned to see you. “Sorry, I thought you would’ve already been asleep. I was uh- I was just about to head out,” he timidly said.

“Stay as long as you need. I’ve been trying to sleep but didn’t have much luck, so I’m hoping tea will help. Haven’t been able to get a good sleep for a while now,” you explained while opening a kitchen cupboard for a mug.

“Me neither. Things haven’t felt right recently,” he sighed. After his statement, the apartment was eerily quiet. Neither of you wanted to say anything else, scared of stepping over any boundaries or maybe the situation even more awkward.

You’re not sure what gears clicked into place, but you felt compelled to finally tell Nolan what was on your mind. The guilt of ignoring him was eating away at you, and you felt like you at least owed your best friend an explanation as to why you needed space from him. After you dropped the tea bag into your mug, you walked back towards the living space to where Nolan was still sitting.

“Look, I’m sorry,” you started.

Nolan didn’t say anything, his eyes pleading with you to continue with what you were saying.

“I’m just gonna lay everything out because I know I’m not gonna be brave enough to do this on any other occasion,” you prefaced, making sure Nolan was paying attention to what you were saying. You were already embarrassed that you had managed to think that Nolan could ever like you, and you did not want to have to verbally explain your emotional affliction more than one.

“I don’t really know when, but I caught feelings for you. At first I wasn’t sure what to do about it, because everyone always warns about falling for your best friend and I didn’t want to make things awkward between us if you didn’t feel the same,” you continued with your explanation, eventually getting to the part where you saw Nolan and the girl on Maya’s story.

“It just sucked, y’know? I thought I was doing a good job of suppressing my feelings and then I saw that. Obviously it’s not like we were dating or anything and I never told you how I felt at the time, but having that confirmation that there wasn’t actually anything between us was like a kick to the gut.”

“I feel terrible for letting my feelings get in the way of our friendship and reading all of the signs wrong. I don’t wanna lose you because of this, and I’m really trying to get over my silly feelings becau-” you were cut off by Nolan.

“What if I don’t want you to get over those feelings?” he said while approaching the spot you were standing in.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure if you were hearing things right or if you were so sleep deprived that you were starting to make things up. “I-I’m not following,” you silently begged Nolan to continue.

“I liked you, too,” he confessed. “Well, I still like you. If I’m being honest, I think I’m in love with you,” he admitted all in one breath. “I thought it would be easier to try to get over you instead of dealing with the possibility of ruining our friendship just because I caught feelings,” he elaborated.

“Obviously it didn’t work, though. And I ended up messing up things between us anyway, so it really didn’t work,” he sighed with a hint of resignation in his tone. He wasn’t sure if he was referring to ruining the friendship, his chance of getting to call you his, or both. Upon that thought, Nolan became even more dejected after he was reminded about how you were just on a date a few hours ago.

Your head was spinning with each word. Every fiber in your body was consumed by joy, and you were now wide awake. Nolan was now only standing a few feet away from you. You still hadn’t replied to his confession, and you could tell that he was becoming increasingly nervous as he awaited your reaction. With that realization, you were drawn out of your thoughts. Your heart was lodged in your throat, and you knew that no words could articulate the words you wanted to tell Nolan, anyway.

With that, you closed the distance between the two of you. Your hands grabbed his and although he flinched a little bit, he welcomed your gesture and interlaced your fingers with him.

Going on your tiptoes to come a little closer to your face, you become hyper-aware of Nolan’s burning gaze. His face is painted with a light blush, and he’s biting the inside of his cheeks again.

“I hope this is okay,” is the last thing you whisper before you connect your lips to his.

Instinctively, Nolan’s hands pulled away from yours to find a home on your hips. He pulled you closer, attempting to deepen the kiss. The kiss was soft, reassuring, and everything in between. Nolan couldn’t stop the smile that was tugging on his lips, and had to pull away to make sure that this was actually happening.

He was met with your confused face, your eyebrows scrunched in the cutest way. His smile promptly turned into a smirk as you tried to pull him into a kiss, your shorter height causing you to barely graze the corner of his lips.

When Nolan released a chuckle, you started to become impatient. “What?” you questioned while narrowing your eyes towards the rosy-cheeked boy in front of you.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” he cheekily asked.

“Only if I get a second kiss,” you said with gleaming eyes, fingertips grazing along his jawline. With those words, Nolan wasted no time fulfilling your wish and peppering your neck with dozens of chaste kisses.

The two of you were so consumed with the high of finally getting to hear the other admit their feelings that neither of you heard the sound of the front door violently swinging open.

“Patty, where the fuck are yo-” Travis called, immediately realizing the moment he was intruding on. “You know what, I think I’m just gonna head out. Have a good night!” he awkwardly chuckled, undoubtedly embarrassed. He sent the two of you a thumbs up before quickly shutting the door as if he never interrupted.

“Oh my god,” Nolan said, his head falling into your shoulder and arms wrapping around your body. “I forgot that TK and Hayesy were waiting for me to come down. It’s probably been like half an hour at this point,” his laugh rumbled through your bones.

“Stay the night?” you offered. “Maybe I can finally get more than four hours of sleep,” you laughed.

“Mm, sounds like a plan,” Nolan peppered kisses along your neck before scooping you into his arms and heading to your bedroom.

Although both of you knew that there would be a lot to talk about the following morning, neither of you wanted to disrupt the current state of bliss that both of you were in. You and Nolan’s hearts were finally intertwined, and for now, that was enough to engulf you in ease.

[patagucci34]

All Three ~ Nolan Patrick

A/N: this is based on the song All Three by Noah Cyrus. Also i have no idea what it’s like to have migraines and I obviously don’t know how it was for Nolan either, my depiction in this is just what I thought would fit with the story.

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, verbal fights, playful arguing

Word count: 6.9k

Nolan Patrick…your best friend, your lover, your kryptonite.

It's the classic friends with benefits scenario…you met when he came to Philly and the rest is history. Your cousin, Meg had been dating Travis Sanheim and she always dragged you along to outings so you had become pretty familiar with the Flyers.

The night you met Nolan you knew you were in for it. You had walked into Scott's apartment trailing behind Meg and Travis and you immediately locked eyes with an unfamiliar face across the room. He immediately blushed and his mouth twitched up a bit in an attempt at a smile. You gave him a small smile back and then were interrupted by a few of the guys giving you hugs.

You were intrigued by the guy across the room, you figured he was a rookie, a super cute rookie, and you really wanted to meet him. It was a little while before you finally did, you wandered into the kitchen with your cousin to grab a drink and then of course you caught up in conversation. But finally, halfway through the night you were being introduced.

"Nolan, Travis, this is y/n, y/n, this Nolan and Travis." Ghosty introduced you to the two rookies. You shook their hands and greeted them sweetly. "It's nice to meet you!"

"It's nice to meet you too." The shorter of the two, Travis, greeted. "So how do you fit in with the mix here?"

"My cousin is dating Travis Sanheim and they drag me along to things like these."

"Oh, sweet. Do you go to school here?"

"Yeah, I'm a sophomore at UPenn."

"Wow, don't you have to be like really smart to go there?"

You blushed at Travis' question. Although you had worked super hard to get into UPenn, you hated when people would make a big deal about it. And you never knew how to answer this question without sounding like an asshole. "Um, I mean I guess so…you have to get good grades and be involved in a lot."

"So, probably no chance for me?" Travis joked.

You giggled and shook your head looking over at Nolan who had been pretty quiet the whole conversation. His cheeks flushed a bit more when you looked at him and he realized that he should probably say something. "What are you studying?"

Your breath hitched upon hearing Nolan's voice. It was deep and a bit raspy and you were even more intrigued. "Environmental Studies." You answered with a small smile.

"Cool, so you like the outdoors?" Travis asked.

"Yeah, I've always lived in the city, but I like to get out whenever I can and go camping and hike and stuff."

Nolan immediately knew that he wanted to get to know her more. He was happy that she said she came to stuff like this a lot and he'd have the opportunity to hang out with her.

 Meg came barreling into the three of you, grabbing your arm to pull you towards the pong table.

"Sorry boys, she's needed for beer pong!!" She called over her shoulder and you shot them an apologetic smile as she dragged you across the room.

 You and Meg dominated, as always, so you were occupied with beer pong for quite some time. But once you finally got knocked out, you looked around for Nolan because you really wanted to talk to him again. You spotted him in walking towards the kitchen so you decided to follow.

 He sensed a presence behind him and smiled when he turned and saw that it was you.

"Beer?" He asked holding a bottle out for you.

You nodded and took it from his hand, "thank you."

He grabbed one for himself and leaned against the counter. "You're quite the player."

You smirked at his compliment, "yeah, we're not all total nerds at UPenn, I've had my practice."

"So, are you from Philly?" He asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yup, born and raised…"

"You say that like it's a bad thing…"

"I love it here, I do, but sometimes I wish I had gone somewhere else for school. Just to experience something else, you know?"

Nolan nodded, "Yeah, I left home when I was a teenager for hockey, it's nice to see what else is out there but there's definitely no place like home."

You smiled at his comment, he was very soothing. You had only known him for a few hours but you already felt super comfortable around him.

 You stayed in the kitchen with him and talked for the rest of the night. You hadn't even noticed how late it had gotten until Travis came looking for you telling you that you needed to go because Meg was super wasted.

"Okay, I'll be right out." You assured him so that you could try and invite Nolan back to your place.

"It was really nice talking with you, y/n…" Nolan said.

"Would you maybe wanna come back to my place?" You asked with a smirk.

He smiled and nodded, "let me just go to tell TK."

 You walked up to Travis and Meg, "Nolan is gonna come back with me, so you can guys just go home." Travis raised his eyebrows, "are you sure?"

You nodded, "yeah, I'm good. I promise."

"Okay…" Travis said hesitantly. "Text me when you get home please…and if you need anything." Although Nolan seemed like a good guy, Travis still didn't really know him and he was protective of you.

"Will do. Thanks, Travis. Good luck with Meg."

"Yeah, bets she passes out in the Uber…"

You laugh at his prediction and say goodbye to Meg.

 You turn around and Nolan is approaching you. "You ready?" You nod in response and go downstairs to wait for your Uber. Conversation seemed to just flow and you talked the whole way to your apartment.

 Your roommates thankfully were both in their rooms for the night so you didn't have to deal with any introductions.

"Do you want anything to drink?" You whispered as you entered your apartment.

"I'll have some water if that's okay." You nodded and handed him a water bottle before leading him down the hallway to your room. Unsurprisingly, you talked for a little bit longer before he finally made a move and started kissing you.

 You melted into his grasp as soon as you felt his lips on yours. The faint taste of beer on his lips had you desperate for more.

 --

 Ever since that first night he had you locked in. You hooked up a few nights a week when he was in Philly. You kept in touch when he was on road trips and when he went back to Winnipeg for the off season, you even visited him there a few times. He had grown to become your best friend. As the two of you got closer it wasn't always about sex, he'd come over after a tough loss, you'd confide in him when you were stressed about school or your friends. But despite how close the two of you were, you never felt your relationship progressed to anything more than friends.

 Everyone always thought you two were a couple, he invited you to team events as his plus one, you went on dates, you were exclusive, you argued like you were married…but for some reason you never put the label on it. You didn't totally mind…you were both still very young and not to mention putting a title on it really wouldn't change your relationship at all so you supposed it didn't matter. It would happen when it happens and that was fine… or so you thought. 

  I really hate when you say you love me, those spoken words are wet concrete

And in your arms I feel so lucky, weightless when you lie on me

 It started to really fuck you up when he said those three forbidden words. I love you. Well, in your case it was two, and not as meaningful or intimate as it usually is said for the first time.

 You guys had been together, or doing whatever you were doing, for two years. He was leaving for a week long road trip and you were at his place helping him pack before you brought him to the airport.

"Hey, y/n/n?" Nolan called from the bedroom. "Have you seen my black tie?"

"I'm ironing it right now!" You yelled back from the living room.

 Once you finished ironing his dress clothes you brought them into his bedroom for him to pack.

"Thank you." He said before giving you a quick kiss and zipping them carefully into his bag.

"Do you want to eat anything before you go?" You asked.

"Can you make me a ham sandwich, please?" He asked with a childish grin.

You chuckled and shook your head, "of course."

 You looked at the time and figured he'd need to eat in the car so you packaged it up so he could take it with him. Just as you finished, he emerged from the hallway with his bags in hand. You grabbed him a bottle of water and put it in a bag with his sandwich. You double checked with him that he had everything and you headed down to the car. You drove so Nolan could eat and the rest of the car ride was spent humming along to the music.

 "Do you want any help?" You asked as you put the car in the park out front.

"No, I'm all set." He said as he slid out of the car. You got out after him and stood by as he gathered his bags. "Thank you for your help this morning."

"Anytime, Nols. Text me when you land, please."

"Will do," he assured as he leaned down to kiss you, "love you, babe."

 You stood there shocked at his words as he walked away seemingly unbothered. True to his word, he had texted you when they landed and texted you throughout the week as normal. You were kind of expecting some sort of explanation, at least an acknowledgement of what he had said but it seemed like it just slipped out and he didn't think anything of it. You however, spent the whole week overthinking and freaking out.

 Of course you had thought about if you loved Nolan or not, but you just never thought saying it was on the table because of the status of your relationship. You hoped that when he returned he'd have something to say about it but he didn't. And you were the biggest chicken in the world so you never brought it up. He didn't say it too often, mostly when he'd leave for a road trip or if you weren't going to see each other for a while. You had been trying to build up the courage to say it back but you could never bring yourself to do it.

 It didn't seem to bother him that you didn't say it back. Which made you really think it wasn't that big of a deal for him, which is what confused and frustrated you so much. You didn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about it all the time. Was he that dense? Or were you really just overthinking it? It got to the point where you hated to hear him say it. But it didn't matter how much you hated to hear it, because you knew you loved him too.

 Nolan was not known for showing much emotion. But you weren't either so it worked out for the two of you. You had other ways of expressing your feelings for each other. For you, it was helping him prepare for road trips, cooking him dinner, rubbing his shoulders, and when they started, helping him through his migraines. For him, it was bringing you coffee and dinner when you were cramming for an exam, always making sure you had Reese's and a bottle Sauvignon Blanc on hand, going for walks with you, taking you to concerts… but your favorite moments with Nolan were when the two of you were lying in bed or on the couch. Not doing anything, maybe you have a show on in the background, but you weren't paying attention to it. Instead you were listening to Nolan's heartbeat, focusing on his soft breathing. You were often under him, him acting as the perfect weighted blanket to help you feel at ease.

 --

 But darling if I could, I would fall for someone good, someone good for me

No matter how good the highs are, there of course some lows. Nothing too awful, but with the uncertainties of your relationship comes some strain. Sometimes the time spent together is too much, you feel overwhelmed, Nolan feels too much pressure… and you're never sure if you can work through it. You obviously always have, but each time you have a falling out it feels like the end.

 You had been sitting at home all night trying to reach Nolan. He had been having his migraines for a little while now and you were worried because you hadn't heard from him all day and he wasn't the playing in the game. You knew that if it was anything super serious, someone would have contacted you but you couldn't help but worry about him. You finally decided to go over to his place and see if he was okay.

 You knocked quietly upon arrival wanting to give him a chance to answer the door. After a few minutes of silence you decided to just go in. His apartment was dark, which wasn't unusual during a bad migraine, so you made your way back to his bedroom. His door was cracked so you pushed it open and saw Nolan lying down on the bed.

"Nolan." You whispered with no response. "Nolan." You whispered a little louder this time. He moved a bit so you knew he heard you but he still didn't say anything. You walked over to the bed and gently sat down next to him. "Are you okay?" He grunted in response, still not what you wanted, but something nonetheless. "I'm sorry for just coming, but I was worried…I haven't heard from you all day."

"You can see that I'm alive so you can leave now."

You sighed at his cold tone, you had heard it before and you knew better than to push so you got up to leave. You stopped before the door and turned towards him, "let me know if you need anything." You didn't wait for a response knowing that you probably wouldn't get one so you left his apartment.

 You tried to your best not to be upset by the interaction. You didn't know how Nolan felt in those moments and you wanted to give him what he needed, even if it meant him not wanting you around. It certainly wasn't the first time he shut you out and you knew it wouldn't be the last, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

 What made this time different was your interaction the next day. Usually after a night like that, he would apologize for how he treated you and would explain he just really needed to be alone. You of course always forgave him and things went back to normal. But this time, there was no apology, just more hostility.

 He had texted you asking if you could bring over something to eat. You asked him what he wanted and he said he didn't care, "get whatever you want."

You decided to just go to the store and get a few different things so he had options. When you showed up to his place he was on the couch with his eyes closed, so you quietly shut the door and put your bags down in the kitchen. You were putting a few things away when you heard him speak. "What did you bring?"

You walked over to him so you didn't have to yell, "I got a few things from the store…I got stuff for sandwiches, frozen pizza, soup…"

"Alright thanks." Was all he said. You stood there for a minute not knowing what to do. "What are you doing?" He asked looking over at you.

"I, um, well…" you fumbled out, taken aback by his tone, "do you want me to make something for you?"

"Just make me a sandwich I guess."

You nodded and walked away without another word.

 A few minutes later, you brought his sandwich to him on a plate and set it down a little harder than you probably should have. But you were starting to get upset so you didn't really care. He glared at you in response but thanked you as he sat up and grabbed it. You walked back into the kitchen and put everything away.

 "I'm gonna go, I guess. Let me know when you're feeling better." You said as he walked by him to put your coat on.

"Why are you leaving?"

"Well it's clear you're still not doing well, so I'm just gonna leave you alone." "I never told you that you needed to leave." "You didn't have to, Nolan." "What's your problem?" "I don't want to fight, especially if you’re still not feeling good, so I'm just gonna go."

"Why do we need to fight? I just asked you a question."

"Really? 'What’s your problem?' isn't exactly an innocent question."

"Well I don't really understand why you've got such an attitude." "I'm trying not to lose my patience Nolan, but you're making it really difficult." "Why?!" he asked starting to raise his voice, "What did I do?" "You're kind of treating me like shit, Nolan. I'm sorry that you had a bad migraine yesterday, and I'm sorry if I made it worse by coming here last night, but I was worried. I understand it's hard for you, but I hadn't heard from you all day. You usually let me in and help you through them and it’s fine if that's not what you want or need but you don't get to be a dick to me about it. You asked me to bring you food, I did, and you're still being rude to me. I don't mind being here Nols, I want to be here, but if you're going to act like this I'm not interested."

"You have no idea how hard it is for me, y/n," he yelled at you, "I didn't ask you to come over last night, I'm sorry you were worried but I can't put my migraine on hold just to make you feel better."

"I know that, Nolan! That's why I left once I saw that you were okay! But you were obviously okay enough this morning to text me asking for food, and you're obviously okay enough right now to be yelling at me! I know that I don't know how hard it is for you, but I'm doing my best to be here for you and support you however I can. I know that you can't always text me or call me, and that's fine. But the way you're treating me right now is not okay." "You don't have to be here for me all the time. You didn't have to bring me food today if you really didn't want to. You can say no, y/n, you don't owe me anything."

You were hurt by his words but you tried your best not to show it. "I wanted to bring you food because I care about you! I want to be here for you! It just doesn't seem like you want me here. You've been nothing but cold to me since you texted me this morning! I don't mind doing these things for you, Nol, but you could at least act grateful."

"Whatever, y/n/n. Just go I guess. I'm not arguing with you anymore."

You opened your mouth but you didn't know what you would even say, so you put your coat on and left.

 It had been a few days since your fight and you hadn't spoken to him at all. It was awful timing because you had midterms coming up and you were too distracted to study.

 You were currently trying to force your way through a study guide when you got a call from Meg. You sighed and answered the phone. "Hey, Meg."

"Hey, y/n/n, what's up?" "Trying to study…what about you?" "You're not going to the game tonight?"

"No, I really need to study." "But I thought you were going…?" "Yeah, well plans change. I can't go anymore." You heard some mumbling in the background, which you assumed was Travis. A few moments later Meg spoke up again.

"Are you and Nolan fighting?"

You rolled your eyes and sighed, "We had a pretty big fight the other day and I haven't talked to him since. But regardless, I need to study. I have midterms next week."

"Travis said Nolan has been grumpier than usual. What did you fight about?"

"His migraines I guess??? I don't even know, I tried standing up for myself but he wasn't having it so I left."

"You haven't talked at all since?" "Nope, not a word." "Are you okay?" "I don't know, not really honestly. But I really can't dwell on it right now because I need to focus on studying." "And how is that going for you?" "Not very well." "Okay, so why don't you come over and we can talk about it. If you're not studying anyway it might help to get things off your chest."

You sighed as you thought about it, knowing that she was right you agreed and got your things together to go over there.

 She had a glass of wine waiting for you and you sat down and told her everything.

"Okay, well you were right to stand up yourself. You've done a lot for him recently and you don't deserve to be treated that way."

"Yeah, but he's right, I didn't have to do any of it for him. He didn't ask, I just did it." "Okay so you didn't have to, but despite your weird ass relationship, it's not that crazy that you did. Everything you've done for Nolan I would do for Travis in a heartbeat. Yeah, we're engaged and it's a little different, but you and Nolan have something really special. It's beyond me and everyone in the world for that matter, why you two don't just get over yourselves and date officially. You've worked through fights in the past, you'll work through this too." "But they've never been this big before. And I don't like that it was about his migraines. Even if he apologizes who's to say that he won't act like this again. I feel like I can't fault him for it because it's his way of dealing with them. But I also know that I don't deserve to be treated that way so I just feel like we're not meant to be." "Y/n, that's bullshit and you know it. You and Nolan are like, the perfect match. It's been a few days, I'm sure he's feeling better, you've both calmed down, so sit down and talk about it. You know you're not going to be able to study until you do."

You sighed knowing that she was right, "okay…yeah you're right. I'll text him." 

You: Hey, Nol.

You relaxed into the couch, feeling a sense of relief now that you've had some sort of contact. You took a few sips of wine as you waited, but thankfully it wasn't too long.

Nolan: Hey, y/n/n…

You: Can we talk?

Nolan: Yeah, wanna come over after the game?

You: Yeah, just text me when you get home.

Nolan: You're not coming to the game?

You: I wasn't going to…I really need to study.

Nolan: Oh, okay. I guess I'll see you later.

You decided not to respond, you still weren't super happy with him, so you didn't think you needed to defend your decision.

 "Alright, I'm going over there to talk after the game." You updated Meg.

"Good. So you'll get ready with me???" She asked hopefully.

"Sorry, Meg. I do really need to try and study. I'm gonna head out."

"Fine," she pouted, "but you better let me know how it goes tonight!!!"

"I will, bye Meg."

 Between having the game on in the background and thinking about what you were going to say, you weren't able to get much studying done. But you still tried your hardest until you received a text from Nolan telling you that he was leaving the arena.

 You were hoping he would be in an okay mood…they won the game but Nolan didn't play. You didn't think he was having a migraine, it was probably more of a precaution, but nonetheless he'd be upset that he wasn't playing.

 When you got to Nolan's he was sitting on the couch with two glasses of water in front of him. You smiled at the gesture, although it quickly faded when you remembered why you were even here. He stood up to greet you and you went and sat next to him on the couch.

"That was a good game…"

"You watched?" "Of course."

Nolan nodded, "I just wish I could have played…"

You smiled sadly, "I know, I'm sorry, Nols. Not feeling good?" He sighed and leaned back, "I don't know, I mean, I feel like I could have played, but it's just not worth the risk of bringing one on…"

 You sat in silence for a little bit, neither of you knowing where to start. Just as you were about to speak up, Nolan beat you to it. "I'm really sorry for the way I treated you the other day. I know that you were just trying to help and I know that you don't have to do those things for me but I really do appreciate it. I shouldn't have yelled at you and I shouldn't have dismissed you the way that I did. I know it's not a great excuse, but it was just really bad the other night, I knew that I wasn't going to be fun to be around that's why I didn't want you here. But I don't have an excuse for how I treated you that morning. I had no right to say those things to you, I don't even really know what came over me. You've always been amazing to me and you do mean so much to me, y/n/n, you have no idea. I just hope that you'll forgive me…" "I appreciate your apology, Nols. My intention is never to overcrowd you or make you feel like you need my help. I'm here to help you with whatever you need and it's okay if you need some space too. It'd just be nice to be let down a little easier…"

Nolan smirked at your last comment, "I know, I'm sorry. I promise I will be better at communicating my needs with you." He put his arm around you and pulled you into his side. You rested your head on his chest and he kissed the top of your head.

 --

 You're my nemesis, you're my best friend

We nearly walk on common ground

 You really didn't have big fights like that often, but you did however argue about stupid, little things all of the time.

 One of the things that drove you absolutely nuts about your relationship with Nolan was how different the two of you were when it came to planning things and being on time. Nolan was very "go with the flow" and "we'll get there when we get there" which you loved for him…but you were much different. You liked to have things planned and you absolutely hated being late.

 You were hanging out at your apartment one Friday afternoon watching Netflix when you got a text from Nolan.

 Nolan: Hey, I need a date to an event tonight. I'll pick you up at 6:45.

You looked at the time and it was almost 2 o'clock.

Me: Whoa, whoa, whoa…what kind of event?

Nolan: Pretty fancy, black tie.

Me: Nolan!!!!! I don't have anything to wear!!!

Nolan: You have tons of dresses.

Me: Not any that fit black tie!

Nolan: Oh, well if you go now you'll have time to get one.

 You scoffed and shook your head. Of course, he'd tell you about an event a few hours before and be so nonchalant about it.

 Me: Fine, but I'm not happy.

Nolan: Why? You love these things.

Me: Yeah, when I have time to prepare for them!

Nolan: What do you need to prepare for? Just get a dress and do your makeup or whatever.

 You chose not to respond to that because you didn't actually want to start a fight. It was also hard to actually be mad at him when he really had no idea what was wrong with the current situation.

 You sent an SOS text to Meg and asked her to meet you at Nordstrom to help you pick something out.

 Two hours later, there was a mound of dresses and jumpsuits in your dressing room but you finally found the perfect one. It was a beautiful, sleek, black, satin jersey gown.

"You look so hot, y/n/n." Meg complimented as you spun around in front of the mirror.

"Thanks…I just still can't believe I'm just finding out about this stupid gala." "Yeah, it's a little annoying. But look at you, you found the perfect dress and you still have time to get ready."

"I know, I just hate when he does this. You know how I am about stuff like this." "Yes, I know, Miss Organized…but it's not the end of the world."

You rolled your eyes at your cousin and went into the dressing room to change.

 You hopped in the shower once you got home and did your hair and makeup as quickly as you could while still making it look good.

 You heard Nolan come into your apartment and you glanced at the time because you weren't ready yet. You breathed a sigh of relief to see that it was only 6:30. You finished up your makeup, put on your heels, and grabbed your coat before walking down the hall to greet Nolan. He stood up from the couch when he heard you coming but was engrossed in his phone so he didn't look up at you. You rolled your eyes and cleared your throat to get his attention.

"You ready?" He asked without looking up.

You ignored his question and said his name firmly, "Nolan." He finally looked up at you but still didn't say anything about how you looked. "Do I look okay?"

"Yeah, I don't know what you were so worried about, babe. You look amazing."

"Don't make a habit of, Nols. I was super stressed about it."

He gave you an incredulous look but sighed and nodded his head, "sorry, princess. I'll make sure to tell you a year in advance next time."

You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm and walked towards the door.  

 ~~~

 One other thing about you and Nolan was that you bickered…constantly. He honestly drove you nuts more often than not but for some reason that was why you loved him so much.

 You would argue about what to have for dinner.

 "Pizza?" He suggested.

"We always have pizza, what about Chinese?" You protested.

He rolled his eyes at your suggestion, "we always have Chinese, too."

"Sushi?"

Nolan shook his head, "I don't feel like sushi." "Sandwiches?"

"Nah…" "Well, I don't know, Nolan! Why don't we just go to the store and make something." "That'll take too long." You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "Whatever, just pick something, I don't care."

"You say that now but you're going to complain about it as soon as it gets here."

"Well we can't agree on anything so whatever, just get what you want." You didn't give him a chance to argue as you stomped down the hall to do some homework.

 You always argued about directions.

 "Why are you going this way?" Nolan asked as you made a turn.

"Because it's faster. There's always a ton of traffic the other way." "No it's not, this way is like 30 minutes longer. Even with traffic we'll get there faster the other way." "No we won't, Nolan. I drive this way all the time, it's fine, trust me." "Whatever you say, we're gonna be late though." "No we're not." "Yes we are." "No we're not!" "Yes we are." "Fine, if you're so worried about it, you drive." You huffed out as you pulled over and threw the car in park and got out of the car. Nolan shook his head at how ridiculous you were being but switched places with you anyway.

You ended up getting there 10 minutes late.

 "I told you the other way was faster." You said as you climbed out of the car.

Nolan scoffed, "if you hadn't thrown a fit and just kept driving we would have been on time." "Are you kidding me? It took two minutes to switch places. That's not why we're late." "Whatever.…" He grumbled as he shot you a glare. You stuck your tongue out at him and he shook his head walking a few steps in front of you.

 He hated that you always hogged the blankets.

 To no surprise, Nolan woke up in the middle of night shivering with no blankets on. He sighed angrily and tried to pull the blankets over to him. He wasn't successful because you were all wrapped up in them and they were impossible to move.

"Y/n." He said nudging your shoulder. "Y/n/n." You stirred a bit but didn't wake up. "Y/n." He said louder. Nothing. He sighed again grabbed his water bottle from the nightstand. He poured a little bit on your face and you shot up in shock.

"What the fuck, Nolan?!"

"You were hogging the blankets!" "So you dumped water on me?!"

"You wouldn't wake up!" "You're such an ass." You seethed as you pulled the blanket back to you and rolled over to face away from him. Nolan scoffed at your action and tugged on the blanket. "Get your own blanket if you're so concerned about it." You said as you held onto it so he couldn't have any.

"And I'm the ass…" He muttered in defeat as he got up to grab a blanket from the other room.

 You hated the way he put the toilet paper on the holder.

 "Nolan!!!" You screamed from the bathroom. You were pretty sure at this point he was doing it just to piss you off. You hated when people put the toilet paper on upside down. The right way to put it was so the tail was on top. It flowed so much better and you didn't understand how people could think that it’s okay the other way.

As you angrily switched it around, Nolan was out in the living room smirking because he knew exactly what you were yelling about. He feigned innocence as you came stomping down the hallway yelling at him for putting it on like that. "Oh, I'm sorry babe, I didn't mean to."

You rolled your eyes at him and scoffed. "Seriously, Nolan. You know it pisses me off." "I know, I’m sorry, I just don't think about it when I'm changing it, because it's really not a big deal. It's just toilet paper."

"Yeah, but it's so much easier when it's right side up."

"Some would argue that you have it wrong." "Yeah they might, but they're stupid. If you don’t care, why can't you just put it the way I like it." "I try to, babe, I just forget sometimes." "Well please, try and remember."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

 A few days later, Nolan went into the bathroom and chuckled when he saw a sign posted by the extra toilet paper.

Please put toilet the right side up. Thank you :)

 Deciding he wanted to dance with the devil, he switched the toilet paper so it was the "wrong way." It took a while, but a few hours later he was in the kitchen grabbing a snack when he heard his name being yelled from the bathroom. He laughed and shook his head, preparing for the storm that was coming his way.

 --

 But we're suckers for the thrill, playing fuck, marry, and kill

Honey you're all three.

 No matter how much argued, bickered, or fought, you loved him. He was your person. You were with each other for your best moments and you stuck by each other through your worst.

 Your best friend, your lover, your soulmate. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

 ---

 You and Nolan were enjoying a rare day off you had together lounging around the apartment. Nolan had noticed that one of his favorite bands, Mt. Joy were on Instagram live. He shot them a quick text asking if it was okay if he joined. They of course said yes so he hopped on.

 You were in the kitchen baking cookies, only half listening to what Nolan was saying. However, you immediately stopped what you were doing when you heard something that Nolan said. "I'm just hanging out at home with my girlfriend. Enjoying the day off." Once you got over the initial shock you listened more intently to see if he would say anything more about it. "Yeah, we've been together for a while. Pretty much since I came to Philly." Your jaw dropped. Of course. Of course he would play it off as if you've been dating for years. Apparently you were lost in thought for longer than you thought because the next thing you know Nolan came up and waved his hand in front of your face. "You there?"

"Oh yeah, sorry." "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm your girlfriend, huh?"

He smirked at your tone, "of course you're my girlfriend. Am I not your boyfriend?" "Oh my god, Nolan!"

"What?!" "How long have I been your girlfriend?" He shrugged, "I don't know, I thought we were always kind of dating."

You scoffed, "unbelievable." He gave you a questioning look but you shrugged him off. "Nothing…never mind."

"No, tell me." He insisted.

"It's just, we never really talked about it or had the conversation so I didn't think we were actually boyfriend and girlfriend." "So we've just been…what, a thing? For three and a half years?"

"Well, I don't know, I guess. We've never celebrated an anniversary or anything. And this is the first time I've ever heard you call me you your girlfriend." "Oh, well, I'm sorry y/n/n. I guess after it had been so long I just kind of assumed." You gave him an amused huff. "What? Should we have talked about it?"

"No, no, I guess not…" you reassured, "it's just so…us."

"Us?" "Our whole relationship has been me overthinking and you under thinking, apparently…no offense."

He chuckled at your explanation. "You've been overthinking our relationship?"

"Well, yeah! I never knew what we were but you never seemed worried about it so I didn't want to bring it up."

"Okay…so if you need it spelled out for you…" he started earning himself an eye roll from you, "will you be my girlfriend?"

"I thought I already was?" You replied with a playful smirk.

He rolled his eyes at your teasing but teased you right back. "So are we good? We didn't just break up, did we?"

"No, I love you too much to give you up that easy." He raised his eyebrows at your admission. "Oh, you love me, huh?" You stuttered a bit, realizing that because you had been so insecure you had never actually said it back. "See I notice things, not such an under thinker, am I?"

"I'm sorry, it's my overthinking... I always just thought it kind of slipped out when you said it and because I didn't know what we were I was scared if I said it back things would end." "What?!" He asked, looking at you like you had two heads. "How does that even make sense?!" "I don't know!!" You defended, "I just thought…I don't know... I guess I really don't have an explanation. Just that I'm a little bit crazy."

"It's okay, I already knew that. Your insistence that there is a correct way to put toilet paper on the holder was a dead giveaway."

"Ha ha ha…" you fake laughed, "you do put it the right way now, though…"

"I can't have you going off the rails on me…"

You gently shoved him and shook your head. He smiled and cupped your face in his hands. "I love you, y/n/n. I always have and I always will."

"I love you too, Nolly." You said with a smirk.

Nolan grimaced at the nickname, "okay, maybe not when you call me that."

"Oh, come on, Nolly. You know you love it." "I don't...but I love you so I'll let it slide."

You stood on your tip toes prompting Nolan to bend down so you could kiss him. He picked you up and set you on the counter and you made out for a few minutes.

"As much as I want to make sweet, sweet love to you baby, this dough smells really good…" He said, suggesting you finish the cookies.

"Aye, aye, captain." You saluted as you pushed him out of the way and hopped off the counter.

-- 

For the rest of your life with Nolan, there wasn't a day that went by where you didn't want to fuck, marry, and kill him. But it never stopped you from loving him.

[princessphilly]

Plain Jane Chapter 2

Word Count: 2391

CW: a mention of P K*ne, allusions to issues with alcohol, references to being in the closet

Tag list:  @newlibrary , @luvsherleafs @spine-buster , @m00nlightdelights @lovethepreds @myhockeyworld87 @Defiant-mouse, @callllumhood @yzas-stuff , @stars-canucks @laurenairay @cutiesara23, @besthockeyfics @hockeyallthetime @tazerass , @markymarkstrom @letsgobaby, @himbos-on-ice @hockeywocs @bloodthedevil @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @whatishockey @dreamer1430 @shelbsatans @no-pucks-given @stlbluesbrat21 @mydarkestsecretlol @t0xickisses2 @heatherawoowoo​

Join the tag list here!

I’m too damn stubborn for my own good. I admit it; I don’t like to lose or be wrong. I hate being wrong. Well, I hate losing money more than anything else. But I really hate losing or being wrong after that. - Journal 10/12

One year later

Jamila couldn’t help but look at Jonathan Toews as he sat at the table for this charity dinner. He really was more handsome in person than in the pictures. But the guy sitting next to him was just as good looking as him, in her opinion. He was rougher looking with long auburn hair and blue eyes and probably a good decade older than her, just the way that Jamila liked it. The only issue was… Duncs was nice but he wasn’t as exciting as Jonathan Toews. But Jamila told Shan and Mel that she was going to fuck Duncan Keith and she always got her man. Plus, it didn’t help that Jonathan always has something smart to say which made Jamila more dedicated to fucking Duncs. 

But it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen. Jamila was frustrated; she knew she was gorgeous and she was used to getting her way. But Duncs had a preference for blondes and.. Jamila had no desire to dye her hair blonde anytime soon. Plus, she hated the fact that she was going to lose because then Jonathan would hold it over her. 

Normally, Jon wouldn’t give a fuck that a girl wanted Duncs over him. He knew exactly where he stood with the vast majority of women and that he could have anyone he wanted. But he really, for some reason, wanted her. It had been over a year since they met and she was still hung up over Duncs. Granted, during that time, Jon was recovering from an injury and was at home in Winnipeg. Now, he was back and he wanted Jamila, even though she was supposed to be Cizisky’s girl. Jon had pulled the younger defenseman to the side and asked him about her and Cizisky straight up said that she was just going out with him as a friend to events. So Jon knew that Jamila was basically single and available.

Jamila was smiling in Duncs face but whenever he talked to her, she got angry and flustered. Jon knew she really wasn’t that interested in Duncs. He could tell by the way Jamila got closer to him when they argued that she really liked him. But the stubborn woman didn’t want to admit it. 

As the captain, Jon was used to solving problems. But this was a problem that he couldn’t solve and he was becoming frustrated.

**

It wasn’t fair how intense those dark brown eyes were. And they had been focused on her while Jamila attempted to flirt with Duncs. Jamila had to admit she was failing and it was annoying her. He was being polite but she knew she was being brushed off.

She could hear Jonathan; “Duncs isn’t interested. Aren’t you tired of wasting your time?” All of that paired with a mocking look. She was done doing favors for Shan’s cousin. Next time he needed a plus one, he could find someone else.

“Tired of shooting wide?”

“Really, a hockey metaphor?” Jamila rolled her eyes while Jonathan chuckled. He really was tired of watching Jamila flirt with Duncs. She wasn’t his usual type but Jonathan wanted to be her type. Once Duncs made it clear that he wasn’t interested, Jonathan decided it was time to try his luck.

“Good, you’re learning about the game! But are you tired?”

“What do you mean?”

Jonathan was tall enough that while she wore 5-inch heels, Jamila still had to look up at him a bit. He licked his lips and once again, Jamila felt those unwanted shivers. Jonathan smirked before saying, “Stop pretending you’re interested in Duncs when we both know that you really want me.”

“You’re so conceited,” Jamila retorted. A small part of her said he was right but her pride hurt so fuck him.

Jonathan gave her a devilish grin. “Fuck me? We can make that happen.”

Jamila’s eyes grew wide when she realized she said that out loud. “Captain Serious? More like Captain Dickhead!” Jamila rolled her eyes as she gave him a once over.

Then Jon shocked her. “That was a bit too much, I’m sorry,” he said. The earnest look in his eyes told Jamila he was telling the truth. “But seriously, you’re wasting your time.”

Jamila sighed deeply. She knew he was right but her ego didn’t want to let her admit it. Jamila just grimaced before pushing away from Jonathan. 

For the rest of the night, Jamila kept mostly to herself and Alex, nursing her wine. She was tempted to get something stronger, very tempted, but she kept herself to her one glass of wine. It helped that Alex was watching her like a hawk, as if he knew that Jamila was in a mood. As soon as he was able to, Alex made his goodbyes, escorting Jamila out to the valet.

“What happened, Mila?”

Jamila sighed as Alex’s car was brought up. “Nothing, buddy. Nothing.”

Alex wisely didn’t press it as he got his keys from the valet, opening the door for Jamila and closing it after she got in. Once he was in the car and driving away, he said, “You’ve been in a mood since you talked with Tazer. Did he say something that triggered you? I’ll tell him to back off if he’s triggering you, Mila.”

Jamila sighed. “He didn’t say anything that triggered me, per se, but you know I hate being wrong.”

“Yeah, because you’re very wrong about Duncs… I’ve been telling you that for months,” Alex cracked.

Rolling her eyes, Jamila replied, “Jonathan basically said the same thing. Then he hit on me, again.”

“I thought you enjoyed verbally sparring with him. It’s entertaining as fuck.”

“Fuck you too, Alex!”

Alex snorted as he said, “I would if I liked pussy.”

“Talking about that, have you thought of coming out,” Jamila asked. 

Alex looked at the road as he thought about his words. Then he said, “I could but I feel the same ones who talk about ‘You Can Play’ and all of that aren’t as accepting as they pretend to be. I mean, Tazer would be supportive, probably Duncs, maybe Kaner, Brinks, Murph, but the rest of the guys… I don’t want to risk it right now.”

Jamila reached over, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder. That was a lot to have to deal with. “People fucking suck, man.”

“I know. Thanks for being my plus-one, Mila. I will always support you, even when people are asking me to call you names when you finally get with the captain.”

Jamila laughed, tears forming in her eyes at the idea of dating Jonathan. “That was very funny, Alex, you should become a comedian.”

Smirking, Alex turned into the parking lot of the building that they lived in. They had separate units, Jamila’s bigger and more expensive, but it was still home. “Jamila, your eyes still follow Tazer everywhere he goes when you two are at the same place. It’s a matter of time, well, it’s a matter of how stubborn you are about it.”

**

As Jamila walked into her condo, she thought about Alex and his words. She felt a bit bad for him; locker room culture was real and it sucked that Alex couldn’t fully be himself yet. At the same time, Jamila wasn’t fully open about her own sexuality. If she wanted attention, she could easily come out as pansexual but Jamila didn’t want her life to become a circus. Add on the fact that she enjoyed bdsm and was a submissive…. It would be a hot mess, she thought. However, Jamila knew that she didn’t have to worry about the potential reactions of a bunch of other people if she did decide to come out. 

One thing Jamila did have to worry about was her thesis. It was finished, turned in, it was just a matter of finding out when she would have to defend it. Since she was graduating with her PhD this December, Jamila knew it would be before then. Not knowing the exact date was just irritating to her. Maybe once she had it, her dad would respect her more. 

Jamila sighed as she looked out at the Chicago skyline. It didn’t matter anyway. He wouldn’t really care. The only ones who would were Nina, Marisa, Ms. Tracey and Mr. Vernon, Siobhan, Lauren, maybe Karesha and Desiree. Sighing again, Jamila decided it was time to go to sleep for the night.

**

Jon looked at his computer screen as he looked at his budget for the month. Coming back this season has had it’s ups and down so far. The travel and other rhythms of the season were familiar but at the same time, Jon had enjoyed being at home. For over a decade, Jon had lived under the grind of the NHL season plus the playoffs. There was something nice about being a home, not a hotel room every couple of weeks. The hotels were all the same, they stayed at the same places in the same cities every year. But staying in his own bed night after night had it’s own appeal. 

At the same time, Jon wanted a 4th cup. It still irritated him that the team had decided to rebuild without even asking if the boys wanted to rebuild. Last season, Jon appreciated that the boys didn’t give up and tank even though the front office would have preferred that they did. Odds were stacked against them this season but Jon believed that they could make it. Once the playoffs started, it was anyone’s chance to get the Cup. 

Jon sighed as he opened the Netflix app. He was starting to really feel his age this year. He was only 33 but he could feel every hit now. Plus, coming home to this new place with no one waiting for him was getting very old. “Maybe that’s why you like that girl so much,” Jon muttered to himself. He felt dumb; every time he talked to Jamila, he felt like he put his foot in his mouth. But then, it seemed like she was just looking for an excuse to tell him no. 

As he mindlessly scrolled through shows, Jon felt super frustrated and ready to give up. He didn’t want to continue asking her out if she kept saying no. Jon blanched as the idea that maybe he was making Jamila uncomfortable came in his mind. As he clicked on watching Brooklyn 911, Jon decided that he was going to leave Jamila alone.

**

Jamila felt weird. It was two weeks since the last time she saw Jon and he was keeping his distance from her. All night, all he had done was say hi and wave when she greeted him. Jamila felt strangely bereft. Unconsciously, Jamila’s eyes drifted towards Jon more often than not during the charity auction. His black suit fit him like a glove, the crisp white shirt setting off his remaining tan. Of course, Jon didn’t wear a tie and it made him look absolutely delicious. Jamila inwardly scowled as she looked down at her water. 

Jamila was attempting to be good by sticking to water instead of any of the myriad alcoholic options tonight. The last time she had wine, she had to resist the urge to down the whole bottle. Jamila sighed; she thought she could try to have a bit of alcohol but now, she was sure that was impossible. Her sobriety was worth more than trying to fit in. 

The auction went pretty quickly, all things considered. Jamila made a couple small bids, there wasn’t really anything that caught her eye. Then the auctioneer said, “For our last, and surprise, auction item tonight, a date with the captain, Jonathan Toews. The winner gets to have one night with Captain Toews, at a place of your choice. Mr. Toews is a gentleman so it will be on him. Bidding starts at five hundred.”

One woman yelled, “One thousand!”

There were a flurry of bids and Jamila knew she had a screwface as she listened. One of the bidders was that bitch Frances and it looked like she was going to have the winning bid. The bids went up to six thousand before it started to slow. The auctioneer called out, “sixty-five hundred, do I hear sixty-six hundred?”

He waited for a couple of moments for additional bids. Jamila looked at her hands as the auctioneer said, “Sixty-five hundred, sixty-five hundred, going once-”

“Seventy-five hundred,” Jamila called out, raising her placard. 

There was a hush as people turned towards her. Jamila smirked as Jonathan raised an eyebrow.

“Seventy-five hundred, do I hear seventy-six hundred?”

Jamila waited as she sipped her water. Frances called out, “Eighty-five hundred,” frustration laced in her voice. Jamila smirked; this was time for payback.

The eyes turned towards her and Jamila looked down at her phone. There was a message from Alex: have u lost ur mind?????

“Ten-thousand,” Jamila called out. 

Jon let out a whoo, pursing his lips. This night had turned out in a way he hadn’t expected. The auctioneer called out, “Ten-thousand, ten-thousand, going once, going twice, sold, to number 53.”

Jamila rifled through her purse, looking for her wallet. She hoped she could just put it on her black card instead of needing a check. The money wasn’t a problem; the way of paying could be. One of the team’s interns came to Jamila. “Miss, come this way to pay.”

Following the intern, Jamila gave Frances a wide smile when she passed her. Luckily, Jamila was able to use her card to pay for her bid. 

“This wasn’t expected,” a deep voice said to her side. 

Jamila smiled. “Revenge is a dish best served cold.”

“I’m a tool for revenge? I feel like shit,” Jonathan joked. 

Jamila shrugged. “I’ll let you know if I ever want that date.”

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Jamila walked away. She still felt some satisfaction winning the bid over that bitch, but something told her she made a crucial decision in some way.

[bqstqnbruin]

three times he said he loved you + one time you actually heard it

I have not written for him since Thanksgiving so this was nice, I must admit. But I did this as part of the Summer Fic Exchange put together by @hockeynetwork​ ! I really did love this and I high key hope you do something like this again.

So this is for @broadstbroskis​ I hope you like this!

------------------------

One

“I don’t really understand why we’re having the entire damn town over at our house when half of it still needs to be packed up and the other half is boxes,” you say, trying to maneuver through the mess of your room, making way to your bed while Nolan follows the same path as you.

You flop down on your bed, trying to tune out the noise of your parent’s friends saying goodbye to them when they only let you have one friend over, and that was only because Nolan’s parents were also friends with your parents. “Probably because parents need an excuse to get drunk and it’s more socially acceptable when it’s with a group of people instead of by themselves,” he says, lying down next to you.

The two of you lay there in silence. Neither of you had really accepted the fact that you were moving away because of your dad’s job, and neither of you wanted to accept it, either. But now, you were leaving in about a week, some of your stuff already shipped to the new house that your dad bought, your transcripts sent to Harriton High School in Lower Merion, Pennsylvania, and your life starting over at age fifteen. 

“What do you think it’s like there?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“My dad must have gotten a really nice job because the new house is, like, twice the size of this one.” 

“Really?” he asks, sitting up. “I want to see it. Get your computer.”

“Ok, bossy, give me a second.” You find your laptop, pulling up Google maps and typing in the address. “It’s this one.”

His eyes go wide, jaw dropped. “You’re joking! This is huge! Can I move with you?”

You laugh, desperately wishing that you could tell him yes. “I think you need to stay here. Something tells me if you come with us, your chances of making the NHL wouldn’t be very high.” You take in a deep breath, Nolan exploring the area around your new house while he mutters about how he can’t believe that you’re leaving to begin with. “Wouldn’t it be great if you got drafted by Philadelphia or somewhere close so I could see you?”

“I don’t even know if I’ll get drafted.”

“You will. I know you will. In 2017, I will be sitting there, glued to my TV, watching you get drafted. You’ll probably go top ten, maybe top five if you get really good really fast,” you say, putting your computer away. You dodge boxes, praying that you don’t trip on anything. You have no idea where anything was at this point, despite labeling everything. “God, I need this stuff out of here.” 

You sit back down next to Nolan, your knees touching. Your parents had a rule that you weren’t allowed to date until you were sixteen. Nolan knew that, you knew that, everyone in your school knew that. Sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if your parents didn’t have that rule, would the two of you already be together? Not that it mattered now with you moving to Pennsylvania and all, but hypotheticals are always fun to think of, aren’t they?

Nolan actually had it all planned. The night of your sixteenth birthday, right at midnight, he would call you on your cell and ask you out. He would take you out to a movie, dinner, and then walk around the city, assuming your parents would let you do all of that. Now that you were moving, his chance was gone. 

“You really think that I’ll go top five in the draft?” 

“Maybe. I think you can be a top five prospect if you work towards it enough.” 

He looks like he’s about to say something to you, his eyes going between your own and looking down at his hands. He can’t stay still, his cheeks getting the classic rosy pink shade that you would tease him for constantly, knowing that you were the only one who he let do it. He finally takes a breath to say something, only to be interrupted by a knock on your door.

Your mom opens the door before you can answer, you trying to move away from Nolan a little so she wouldn’t get suspicious. She was the one who made the no dating rule, even if she loved Nolan like he was her own son. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she says, obviously lying, “Your father just finished everything on the grill, you kids should come down to eat.” 

Nolan gets up from your bed, pretty much running out. Your mom stops you, gently pushing you back into your room and closing the door behind you. She gives you that look asking for an explanation. 

“What?” you ask her, trying to pretend like you don’t know what she’s about to ask you. 

“What were you doing up here?” she asks, folding her arms.

“Do you want a play-by-play or a summary?” you ask her. Every time she saw you with Nolan, her first instinct is that you were breaking her rule about dating and were actually seeing Nolan behind her back. You couldn’t help but get a little irritated when she asked you the same question each time: what was going on?

“Give me the Sparknotes.” 

“Showed him the new house, complained about moving, did the same thing I did when Sammie was over, too,” you told her, referencing one of your other friends. She cocks her eyebrow, the signal that she doesn’t believe you. “Go ask Nolan!” 

 “I know you’re upset that you’re leaving him but there are other-” she starts, trying to reach out to touch your shoulder.

“Please, do not finish that sentence. Mom, come on. Nolan is my best friend, of course, I’m going to be upset about leaving him. You’re moving me to Pennsylvania where I have three years to start over and make new friends only to leave them to go to college. Can we please go down for food, though?” you ask her, trying to get past her, “I’m hungry, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

She looks at you, trying to figure out if she believes you. “Go ahead,” she says, gesturing to your door. You move past her, Nolan still waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“There were too many adults for me to fend this alone,” he says when you reach him. 

“Where are your sisters?” you ask him, grabbing his hand and dragging him into the kitchen. 

“Outside?” he guesses, handing you a plate as you both start to pile on the food. Around you are your parent’s friends, talking, laughing, enjoying the time as if you weren’t about to leave them forever. Nolan can see the sudden shift in your mood; whenever you start thinking about moving, you always get upset, “Hey, let’s go look out back,” he suggests, leading you through your house to the back porch. 

Outside was quiet, the sun just starting to set and making the sky brilliant colors of pink, orange, blue; everything that you loved about living away from a city that you wouldn’t get living twenty minutes from Philadelphia. “I can’t believe we’re leaving this,” you say, sitting down in the grass. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Nolan mutters. 

“What?” you ask him, snapping your attention away from the sky and to him. He’s looking down at his food, pushing it around his plate. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” he says, still not looking up. “I said I can’t believe you’re leaving, either.” He didn’t want you to leave at all. Slowly, everyone started to come outside to enjoy the sunset, all the adults screaming and being unnecessarily loud. ‘Just say it,’ he thinks to himself. He was going to regret it if he didn’t. “I love you,” he blurts out, just loud enough for you to hear it over the commotion. And he meant it. He really did love you, as more than a friend, he thinks he always has.

You look at him and smile. “Yeah, I love you, too,” you say, thinking he meant it as just a friend. Part of you was happy the two of you weren’t dating. Having to break up would be a lot harder and leave him would be a lot harder than it was now. 

Two

You were ecstatic to be back home, even if it was for the wedding of someone you weren’t really close to. It had been almost three years since you were last in Winnipeg, and when the opportunity came up for you to visit, you had to jump on it, having to beg your parents to let you go back home without them. You hadn’t seen Nolan since you moved, other than through Facetime. He was getting ready for the draft that was weeks away, obviously stressed, and according to him, only going to the wedding because you said you were about to go with him. You were staying at his house, sharing the room with him, much to your surprise that his parents even let you. 

“Why did I agree to go to this with you?” Nolan whines as you struggle to zip up your dress.

“Because you missed me and this was the only way you would be able to spend time with me,” you tell him, turning your back to him. “Come zip me up?”

He gets up off his bed, one of his hands finding the small of your back to hold on to the base of the zipper, pulling it up slowly as he held his breath. You were nearly 18, now old enough that the dating rule your parents had set was done. If you hadn’t lived in Philadelphia now, he was sure that you two would be celebrating your two year anniversary soon. Taking you as a date for this wedding was probably the only time you would ever be each other’s dates unless by some miracle he ended up in Philly, or you ended up in whatever city drafted him. 

You’re also holding your breath, and you aren’t sure if it’s because you think it will make zipping up the dress easier for Nolan, or for some other reason. You hear him mutter that the zipper is up, turning around to face him. He was already dressed in his suit, his hair styled in just the right way so not a strand was out of place. He looked amazing. “You look,” you start, trying to find the right word, “Great.”

Looking at you, he couldn’t find a flaw in your appearance. He knew the flaws that made you who you were, but he didn’t mind them. He had always liked them. “Uh, so do you,” he stammers out. You could feel your heart beat faster, and he could feel his own doing the same. You both swore the other could hear the beat as you got nervous just being around each other. You looked so good with the clothes you had on, but you couldn’t help but think about how you would look with them off. 

“We should get going,” you finally let out after what felt like the longest moment of silence between the two of you. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we should.” The two of you leave his room, calling to his parents on your way to let them know not to wait up for you. Something really was about to happen just then, wasn’t it? No. You were overthinking it. Everyone loves a well-dressed person: you were just getting swept away by the suit, the same thing would have happened if you saw anyone else in a suit. 

Nolan was driving to the venue, not saying anything. He was freaking out about how he could have just kissed you at that moment, but he blew it. He should have just kissed you. What if he did tonight? Would it be better to kiss you and have you leave, or to not kiss you at all for you to still leave? Either way, you were going to leave him again. Part of him thought that he would see you again. Somehow, you would both end up in Philadelphia, he just wasn’t sure how. 

The wedding goes by without you even paying much attention. You seemed to just follow whatever everyone else was doing, standing when they were standing, trying to talk if everyone else was talking. You were focused on Nolan the entire time. He looked so good in the suit, and you could not get over it. You get to the reception, seeing a lot of people you grew up with somehow having grown up a lot more than you expected. 

“Y/N!” You hear someone squeal. You turn around to see Sammie, running towards you and Nolan. Nolan tries to dodge her; she had always liked him, but he was never interested in her as more than friends. He slips away to get food just in time. “I’ve missed you so much!” she says, pulling you in for a tight hug. “You’re here with Nolan?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess he’s my date for tonight?”

She pulls you over to an empty table, plopping you down at the seat next to her. “You know, I’m pretty surprised you two never got together,” she blurts out.

You look at her, confused. Nolan has always been your best friend, and that’s all. No matter what you felt about him, you couldn’t risk something like that. “No way,” is all you can manage to get out.

“Oh, yeah. So many girls at school have been trying to get with him, but no one’s succeeded. During the wedding, I saw the way he looked at you. If heart eyes were an actual thing, that boy would have them for you.” 

“Again, no way. He’s my best friend, that’s all.”

“Best friends fall for each other all the time,” she sings, shrugging. 

“Hey, do you want to dance?” Nolan asks, startling you.

“Yes, please!” you say, thankful that he saved you from more interrogation. “Thank you,” you say as he leads you to the dance floor. 

“You needed saving,” he says, taking your hands and starting to sway with the rhythm of the music. 

“My hero!” you swoon, making him laugh. The two of you move in perfect sync like the song was made for you. The room around you melted away and it became just you and Nolan. It felt like a scene from the movie, where everything goes dark and the spotlight is just on you two. You weren’t saying anything, your head on his chest as he pulled you in once the song changed to a slow song. You could feel his heartbeat, noticing it getting faster even though everything else around you remained steady. 

The DJ came over the speakers to announce the arrival of the new husband and wife. You and Nolan move off the dance floor, Nolan standing behind you, his hand finding it’s place at the small of your back again. They start their first dance as a married couple, and you suddenly can picture yourself doing the same. You’re in a dress that fits you perfectly, flawless makeup, not a hair out of place, dancing with the love of your life. You see yourself with, you aren’t sure who. You feel like you’re standing off to the side watching yourself dance with Nolan. 

You wanted it to be Nolan. You weren’t sure if it was being at the wedding, or if it was a feeling you had been repressing this entire time. You look up at him and smile, him beaming down at you. You put your arm around him to pull him in for a hug. You couldn’t tell him how you felt, though. Not with you leaving so soon to go back to Lower Merion. 

Neither of you could tell that you were thinking the same thing. Nolan wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him and resting his chin on your head. You reached up to meet his hands, holding them there as you settled into his embrace. If he could tell you right now that he loved you, he would. But he couldn’t help but wonder what he would do if you didn’t love him back. 

Three

The day Nolan got drafted felt surreal. You couldn’t believe that he was going to be coming to Philadelphia, the same city you moved to, the city you were going to stay in for college. The day he actually arrived in Philly didn’t feel real either. You had helped him move in, and honestly, you spent more time in his place than you did at your own.

Neither of you had admitted that you had feelings for the other. There was no way you could. You were practically living together, you being Nolan’s first friend outside of his team when he first moved to the city. You couldn’t ruin what you had, so you just pretended like those feelings didn’t exist.

“Where are we going tonight?” Nolan asks you as you take over his bathroom to get ready for the night. 

“Somewhere called Brew Pub in Manayunk.”  

“Why are we going, again?” he moans. He leans back on his bed, having a direct view of you getting ready. You were doing your mascara, not that he had any idea what else you still had to do. He never really knew why you wore makeup, he didn’t think you needed it at all. 

“Juliette said it was a good place to meet Saint Joe’s and Nova boys. You know, all the right private schoolboys from Nova and then their less rich counterparts from Saint Joe’s,” you say, messing up your makeup.

“What could that possibly mean?” 

“Could not tell you. Apparently she just likes Saint Joe’s boys.” You try to fix your eyeliner, not succeeding. “Shit!” you say out of frustration, “Why do I look like this?” 

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Full of questions tonight, aren’t we? And, I don’t know, I just feel,” you hesitate, trying to find the right word, “Ugh.”

He gets up from his bed, wandering into the bathroom to stand behind you. “How could you feel ugh?” 

“I don’t know. I’m in a mood. I don’t like how I look,” you admit, shrugging it off. “Whatever, I just need to finish this eyeliner and we can get going. Is Travis meeting us here or there?” 

Nolan stays standing behind you, not listening to the questions you’re asking as you keep talking. God, how could you not understand how beautiful you are? Every time he pictured his perfect girl, he thought of you. He really did love everything about you, right down to your annoying pen tapping when you’re thinking about something. How could you not see yourself the way he saw you?

“Nol?” you ask him, snapping him out of whatever trance he had fallen into.

“Sorry, what?”

“You never answered if Travis was meeting us here or at Brew Pub?”

“Oh, sorry, I kinda spaced. He’s meeting us there.” 

You turn around to look at him, your makeup done, but it was him with the blush on his cheeks. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he lies. Why has he waited so long to tell you anything about how he feels? “I was just thinking about some drill from practice. I was having issues with it.” 

“Eh, don’t worry about it right now. There’s nothing in hockey that you haven’t been able to get eventually. Tonight, let’s just go out, drink a little, flirt with some people, and then come home.” 

Flirt with some people. Yeah, like he actually wanted to flirt with anyone besides you. Not that he actually did flirt with you; something about you he felt like he couldn’t, like it would cross a line or something. You guys leave for the bar, not saying anything while Nolan stays on his phone telling Travis to get there as soon as he can. He’s not sure he can really handle seeing you flirting with someone else. He wasn’t even sure if he had before. But if he was about to see that, then he needed some sort of bonehead energy to keep his mind off of it.

‘I’m waiting outside already. There’s a pizza place across the street, can we go?’ Travis sends back.

‘No.’

‘Once we’re drunk?’

‘No.’

‘Smile Pat?’

‘No.’

The entire ride, you were sitting there, trying to figure out why he went radio silent since you left. The only thing you could do was let him talk when he wanted to. You knew better than anyone that if you tried to force him to talk when he didn’t want to, he would shut down completely. You get to the bar, trying to find Juliette in the small, crowded bar, losing Nolan and Travis completely. 

“Ok, so I’ve seen a few slightly attractive guys but I’m not drunk enough yet for me to find them very attractive, but I figure if we sit down and flirt with them enough, we can get a few drinks from them,” Juliette starts rambling, dragging you directly to the bar to have you start flirting.

Nolan and Travis had found their seats at the other end. Nolan couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you talked to the guy seated next to you. 

“Why aren’t you there next to her?” Travis asks him. 

“What do you mean?” Nolan asks, pretending not to know what he was talking about.

“She’s there, flirting with a guy, probably intending on at least getting a drink or two from him, and you’re here watching him talk to your girl.”

Nolan looks at Travis, the look on his face telling him to cut it out. “She’s not my girl.” He looks back at you, watching you flip your hair over your shoulder, laughing and reaching out to touch the guys arm. His heart started racing at the sight of something so simple. He takes in a deep breath, “I’m in love with her. Have been since I could understand what love is,” he admits.

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“Same thing I’ve been doing. Not telling her.” 

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to mess up what I have with her.”

“That’s dumb.”

“If you drop this, I will pay for that pizza across the street, I will buy the whole place if it means we can drop this.” 

“Fine,” Travis says, throwing his hands up in surrender, “Whatever you say.” 

+one

You groan as your alarm starts to go off, rolling over to try to find your phone and shut it off. You didn’t even remember turning an alarm on for today, so why was it even going off in the first place? Finally finding it after haphazardly feeling around your nightstand for it, you groan even louder when you see that it wasn’t your alarm, but Nolan calling you, instead.

“You really changed my ringtone so it would be the same as my alarm, you jackass?” you answer, mentally cursing yourself for even letting him know your passcode in the first place. 

“Good morning to you, too,” he says. You can hear cars passing him by, indicating that he was somewhere on the street in the city. “I’m going to be over in twenty minutes and we’re leaving when you’re ready.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” you ask him, pulling your phone away from your ear to check the time. “You woke me up before the sun rose on a Saturday for what reason?”

“See you soon!” he says, his tone sounding weird with his deep voice. He hangs up before you can protest. You put your phone back on your nightstand, rolling back over to fall back to sleep. The door to your apartment was locked; Nolan wouldn’t be able to get in without a key, and there was no way either of your roommates were up to be able to let him in. “Get out of bed!” you hear someone yell, jumping on your bed. You must have fallen back to sleep, only for Nolan to wake you up, somehow breaking into your home.

“I’m calling the police,” you say, throwing your pillow over your head.

“Yeah, like that will do anything. But I told you to get up!” he says, taking the pillow off your head and ripping the covers off from on top of you. “We’re going out today, come on.”

“How the fuck did you get into my apartment?” you ask sitting up, eyes barely open. 

“Alex lent me her key,” he says, pulling you out of bed. “Now get ready.”

“I can’t go out with you if I’m about to kill someone,” you say, rifling through your drawers anyway. “Where are we going?” 

“It’s a surprise.” 

“Then I can’t get dressed and we’re not going.” 

“Yes, we are.”

“Then what do I wear?” 

“Wear something nicer, but bring a sweatshirt because I know you’re going to be cold at first.” You shoot a glare in his direction, picking out patterned shorts and a plain tshirt, pulling out one of his sweatshirts that you stole from him. “I’ve been looking for that!” 

“Get out,” you say, pushing him out the door so you can get dressed, “Make me coffee.” you shut your door, locking it so he can’t come back in while you’re getting ready. What did this boy have planned? 

While you get ready, cursing him both mentally and loud enough that he could hear you, Nolan fumbles around your kitchen trying to make you enough coffee to hold you until you got breakfast. He had the whole day planned for you, something spontaneous enough that you would have no idea what was coming. Travis had helped him figure it out, starting with watching the sunrise on Boathouse row, heading to the Art Museum and walking around, and then going to Sabrina’s for food. He had your favorite snacks in his car so you wouldn’t complain, a map of the museum marked with things that he thought you would like, and a reservation at the cafe so you wouldn’t have to wait at what would be a very busy restaurant for hungover Drexel and UPenn students. 

“That coffee smells so good,” he hears you say, causing him to jump. For someone who had just been woken up against their will, you looked stunning. He was so excited for this; you had told him that you had never been awake to see the sunrise, and he knew that the day he finally told you he loved you had to include that. “Can you please tell me where we’re going?” you ask a still speechless Nolan. 

“You’ll see,” he says, handing you your coffee and walking out your door. All of him was nervous. How does he tell his best friend that he’s in love with her? And what if you don’t feel the same way? 

“The sun hasn’t even come up yet, what could we possibly be doing?” you whine again, sipping the coffee. “It better involve food or I’m going to be very upset with you.”

“You’re already upset with me so what else do I have to lose?” he asks, trying to control the shaking in his voice. “And stop asking, you’ll find out when we get there!” he insists, hoping that you’ll stop for the time being. You end up dozing off again, Nolan stealing glances when he can as he drives to park at Fairmount Park. “Hey, Y/N. Wake up.”

“What?” you mumble, stretching as he wakes you up again. “Where are we?” you open your eyes, looking down the street towards where his car is facing. “Kelly Drive? Why are we at Boathouse Row?” 

“Come on!” he says, already pulling you out of the and running down the street. You keep going until you’re past the boathouses, far enough away that the sounds of college rowers are in the distance as he sets out the blanket you didn’t know he had. 

“You’re unusually happy to be up this early, what’s going on?” you ask him, sitting down next to him. What could he possibly have planned. 

“Will, you just shut up and look?” he asks, pointing you in the direction of the sun. 

“Oh, wow,” you let out, looking as the sun rose over the trees, lighting up the Schuylkill sitting in front of you. “You took me to see the sunrise?” you ask him, not looking away as the sky turns from the deep purple to a brilliant orange. 

He can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, turning them more pink than normal. He watches you as the sun makes your face glow. Everything about you was perfect, from your hair that you had thrown up into a messy bun so that you could get ready faster, to his sweatshirt that you were wearing because you loved that it smelled like him. He couldn’t help himself, “I love you,” he blurts out, his eyes wide in disbelief that he actually said it. 

Your head snaps to him, finally breaking away from the sun. There’s no way he just said what you thought he did. “What?”

“I love you. And I have been trying to tell you since before you moved here. I always have loved you, and part of me thinks that I always will.” 

“Nolan,” you start, thinking he was done.

“And you don’t have to say that you love me, or anything really, because I’m just kind of springing this on you, and-” he continues to ramble, acting completely out of character from his usual quick and snarky behavior. 

“Nolan,” you try again, hoping that he’ll stop.

“This wasn’t even the way I wanted to tell you, even though this is what I think might be the third time that I’ve actually told you,”

“Nolan!” you yell, finally getting him to snap out of his rant and look you in the eye. “You love me? Like actually love me.”

“I thought I said that,” he says, starting to panic. Did he just go into a rant for no reason? 

“I mean, like,” you start, trying to figure out what to say, “You love me, too?”

“Too?” 

Without thinking, the sun finally peaking over the two of you as Kelly Drive starts to get more busy with runners, rowers, bikers, and families, you take his face in your hands and kiss him. Your lips move together in sync as his hands find your back, pulling you in closer to him. When you finally pull away, not bothered by the fact that multiple people probably just saw you, you look at him, the blue eyes, rosy cheeks, his hair in a state of disarray. “Too.” 

[willexxmercer]

Willie’s Backstory

We don’t know much about Willie’s life, but here’s my take on it for Willie Appreciation Week - Day 2.  It’s not so much a fic as it is a series of headcanons written in prose, which is why i’ve opted to post it here on tumblr instead of ao3.  You’ll find it under the cut below!

Warnings: mentions of Willie’s canonical death, implied car crash, implications of Willie having (undiagnosed) ADHD

Taglist: @screamin-amuseum @thedepthsofhell @iridescentkippen @owenmercers @oldsmobile-hotdogs @phanhowell @williexmercer @lyxchen @chickwiththepurpleguitar @sk8rwillie @mynameisntluke @julieandthequeers @fairylightsandrainydays @burntchromas @itsthebooks @fireflyingaway @sunsetcurbed @thegirlfulloffandoms @bluedarkness @themongosianhorse @angelofarts  @kikikiwi27498 @imratking @21st-century-sweetheart @bowtiesareavenged

A Life Before

Life at the Hollywood Ghost Club wasn’t so bad.  Willie had a place to live and people to talk to.  More than that, though, Willie felt a sense of belonging.

Growing up, Willie didn’t have it bad, necessarily.  His father wasn’t in the picture, but his mother more than made up for it.  He was her little duckling growing up; they did everything together and Willie never felt like he was necessarily lacking anything.  In the best way Adele Ortega knew how, she loved her son.  It was hard to find work, though, especially as a single mother, and they weren’t able to keep a steady home.  Willie grew up living out of a suitcase, moving between motels and short term rental apartments in the dingiest parts of town, never having a place to call his own.

One of the bonuses of moving around so much was that Willie learned very quickly how to make friends.  He had a natural talent for convincing even the surliest of truckers at the motel to talk to him and show him the inside of their cab.  The employees all loved him, and he loved them back.

See, his mother raised him to be open and welcoming and kind.  No matter what, he would use his manners and be respectful, and that was what he did.  At school, Willie was friends with everyone, including the teachers, even if he didn’t get the highest grades.

After all, it’s hard to do homework while a drunk couple screams at each other in the next room.

When he was eight, his mother introduced him to painting one night.  They were in a new motel, and Willie couldn’t sit still no matter how hard he tried.  After he came in from running around the building, she had a canvas and some paint set up.  When he questioned it, she merely smiled and sat back on the bed, telling him he could paint whatever he wanted.

His first painting was a collage of colours that covered the entire canvas.  They hung it in every room they stayed in after that.

Art quickly became something Willie loved.  He would spend hours with a piece of paper and markers, or canvas and paint.  His mother would spend her spare change getting him new art supplies.  It kept him calm; it gave him something to do when all he wanted to do was bounce around the room.  It became his happy place.

It was a teenager who introduced him to skateboarding when Willie was thirteen, rolling along the sidewalk outside the motel.  Jake was fifteen, with shaggy hair.  He wore a muscle shirt, and a ripped denim jacket, and he was cool.  Willie spent every evening outside with Jake the entire week he stayed at the motel, learning how to skate.  More than skateboarding, though, Willie learned something possibly even more important about himself.

He had always considered the girls in his school to be nice, but he never liked to talk about them the way the other boys in his school did.  In fact, he usually joined the girls in gossiping about other boys.  It wasn’t until he was standing on the pavement, though, watching Jake explain how to do an ollie with his hair moving a bit in the wind and his muscles showing, that Willie realized he wasn’t even listening to the older boy’s explanation.

Nothing came of his crush on Jake, of course.  When the older boy’s family left, Willie stared longingly at the RV as it pulled out of the parking lot.  His mother asked him why he was so upset, since seeing people come and go was so commonplace, but Willie didn’t have an answer.

Thinking she understood, his mother got him a skateboard for Christmas that year.  Willie gladly accepted it as a memory of his first crush.

By the time Willie reached high school, Adele finally got a permanent job at an office in Winnipeg.  They moved into a quaint little mobile home on the outskirts of the city, and Willie was looking forward to being able to live a more normal life.  As a teenager, he was excited to do the things Jake had talked about.  Teenager things.  Staying out late, going to the drive in with his friends, that sort of thing.

It was as if a switch was flipped.  The rules changed.  Now that Willie was a teenager, Adele seemed terrified that something would happen to him, so she started putting restrictions on him.  It started with a 10pm curfew, then he couldn’t go downtown unless he let her know exactly where he was at all times.  It was as if she realized he was getting older and had more options open to him; it was probably even perpetuated by her coworkers at the office.  Willie wasn’t a kid standing outside a motel talking to a trucker, anymore.  Willie was fifteen.

It was suffocating.  There was so much Willie wanted to do, and his mother wouldn’t let him do any of it.

Their relationship suffered as a result.  Willie challenged his mother every chance he could, pushing the boundaries.  He stayed out past his curfew, and at seventeen, he came home on Saturday with a tattoo.  A small one, mind you, a skateboard on his wrist, but a tattoo nonetheless.  It was art, Willie argued.  It was just another way to express himself.

His mother disagreed.

His grades kept slipping at school not because he didn’t know the material, but because he couldn’t focus long enough to complete assignments or tests.  That was another point of contention between him and his mother, who tried to take away his skateboard when he failed grade 11 Math for the second time in a row - their argument lasted over an hour, and Willie avoided his mother for a week afterwards.  The only class he seemed to thrive in was Art, of course, but now Adele was looking for him to decide on a career path.  Art wasn’t a career, not in her mind, even if it was one of the things Willie was really good at.

At the age of eighteen, Willie spent most of his time hanging out at the skate park with a group of older boys.  He had learned very quickly that it was best not to mention that he was gay, given the political climate, and that it was better to play along when the boys started whistling at girls.  He hated it, but it was the only way to protect himself.

And then it happened.

Willie was heading home from the park late at night, helmet loose on his head, the strap undone, when a car came out of nowhere.

The last thing he remembered was the screams from the driver as she realized she had hurt someone.

So yeah, the Hollywood Ghost Club, in all honesty, was one of the best things that could have happened to Willie, given the circumstances.  Caleb found him about a year after his death and lured him in with the promise of a community.  He visited his mother a few times, but it was always too hard.  It was easier to spend his time with Caleb and the other ghosts, with whom, of course, he immediately become friends.  He learned to dance with Tatiana, a cute blonde who quickly became one of his best friends.  Diana, Tatiana’s other best friend, was a little less sure about him.

Honestly, though, that was fair.  Willie took a while to warm up to Diana too.  It wasn’t until he showed her the tattoo on his wrist and told her why he had gotten it that she opened up.  While Tatiana and Willie could chat for ages about the silliest things, he talked to Diana about the serious topics in his (after)life.

He had mixed feelings about Caleb at first.  He was the man who had found him, who had explained everything there was to know about being a ghost.  At the same time, though, there was something about him that was unsettling.  Willie pushed those thoughts aside, though.  As the years went by, he grew to trust Caleb more than anyone else at the club.  He was positive there was nothing that Caleb could do wrong.

A place to live, people who cared about him, and a sense of belonging.  That was all Willie could have ever wanted.

[anotherimaginethatblog]

Family Gatherings

Meet the parents.

Pairing: Kenny x reader

Warnings: small mention of something cheeky ... maybe more in part 2

Summary: you finally make the trip to meet Kenny’s family.

so i finally found the time to sit and write a little and this ended up being a lil longer than expected bit ive enjoyed writing this one, probably be a part two (possibly 3) so let me know what you think x 

hope you like it 

You were nervous, you had been since the day Kenny booked your airline ticket to Winnipeg so you could finally meet his family. You had heard all the stories about them, and they sounded lovely, but you were still, naturally nervous. Constant thoughts had flown through your head since the day you packed, what if they didn’t like you? Didn’t approve of you? you took another sip of your drink hoping the soothing flavour would relax you.

An hour later the pilot informed the plane full of weary passengers that the flight would be making its late arrival at the airport shortly, you began to gather your things up and pack them back into your designer backpack Kenny had bought you as a gift but couldn’t help thinking you’d made a mistake by bringing it, what if they thought you were showing off? Too gaudy? “breathe” you told yourself “it’ll be fine, they’ll love you” you said trying to boost your self-confidence.

“sorry mam, but would you mind stowing your bag? Were going to land soon that’s all” asked the kind stewardess who had given you that extra miniature off the drinks trolly earlier, probably due to the anxiety she saw on your face after striking up a conversation about why you’d be visiting Winnipeg in November.

“sure, sorry” you smiled back.

 Finally, After the stress of the queue at passport control, your bag coming off the plane last and trying to find your way out of the baggage hall altogether you were here. You grabbed your phone out of your bag to see a text from Kenny already, “waiting in the arrivals hall, ring me when your out” it read. You dialled his number and he picked up immediately, so quick he must have been waiting for you thought. “finally, you here yet?” he laughed.

“yeah, just got through, been a nightmare” you replied, “where you at?” you asked him.

“just at the coffee shop with my dad, well wait here for you. You’ll see it if you walk to the end”.

“okay babes see you in a sec” you replied before hanging up, instantly feeling nervous. His dad. You were going to meet his dad for the first time in an airport after hours of travel. Fantastic.

You saw Kenny straight away, those two-tone curls where recognisable anywhere. He looked relaxed and rested whilst he sat chatting to his dad unbeknown to you about how nervous he was for you to see his home and family. “what if she thinks I’m a huge loser once she’s seen I’m just a weird kid from Canada?” he asked his dad. His anxiety spiking in anticipation.

“she won’t, she sounds a great girl and clearly likes you so stop worrying.” His dad replied smiling at his son.

So deep in conversation they hadn’t seen you approach, “hey ken” you said, smiling from ear to ear at finally being reunited.

“babe, you look amazing, I missed you so much” said Kenny, words spilling out with a huge smile in his face as he looked you up and down, clearly appreciating the effort you had made. “this is my dad, (y/n)” he said stepping to the side to introduce the older gentleman who looked very much like his son.

“hi, I’m (y/n), I’m so happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you Kenny always talks about you” you replied any nerves melting away at how normal and nice he seemed, internally laughing at why you were so nervous in the first place.

“nice to meet you too, we’ve heard everything about you I’m so glad you managed to make it out. Big freeze on the way” he said. “let’s get home, before it’s too dark and your mother kills us for being late.” He laughed.

Kenny grabbed your bags and you both followed to the car as soon as you left the terminal you regretted your choice of coat. The leather jacket though warm was not enough to keep your heat against the cold Canadian weather “I told you to get a good coat (y/n)” said Kenny shaking his head at you.

“okay, I just thought you where exaggerating” you replied shivering.

“your so cute, its not far to walk” he said.

After realising Kenny’s definition of short walk was not the same as yours you reached the car and were incredibly grateful when his dad opened it for you so you could jump straight in. “thankyou” you told him while he cranked the heat up for you.

“no problem, its not a far drive either so well have you home and warm in a little while” he told you smiling at your lack of appreciation for the Canada winters.

 After a 40-minute drive you were at Kenny’s childhood home, it was just what you had imagined after hearing all of the stories from him about living in the suburbs as a kid. It was your classic suburban home with a lawn out front and a porch to sit on. It was actually really cute, you where excited to see inside. Kenny’s dad got out and left you two to make your way in, all of a sudden you where back to the nervous girl on the plane with the millions of questions about whether you where enough flooding your brain. All of a sudden Kenny planted his lips on yours and you snapped out of whatever you where thinking of immediately “they’re gonna love you, because I love you” he said. It was like he could read your mind and you kissed him back, you’d missed him so much in the time you’d been apart and if it wasn’t for being in his dads car outside his parents house you’d have climbed over and had him right there in the car. The moment was perfect for it … but the location was severely lacking. “we better get in the house before my mom sends my dad back out to get us” he smirked pulling away, clearly thinking the same thoughts you had been a few minutes prior.

“okay” you smiled back “lets go”.

 Once inside the house you felt relaxed all of a sudden, it felt like a home and all the stress you had had about the visit faded away. You took your coat and shoes off and followed Kenny into the kitchen where a beautiful blonde lady stood at the counter. “Tyson, and this must be (y/n). your so pretty” she said patting her son on the shoulder in an approving manor.

“thanks mom, I’m glas you two finally get to spend some time together. It’ll be nice to have the family all under one roof again.” He replied, with his mum giving you the once over.

“I’m so glad you’ve finally brought us a girl home, I thought you’d never setlle down to be honest” she said teasing her only son.

“mom” he said laughing back “I’m gonna take our stuff up, my room yeah?” he asked

“mhmm, and (y/n) across the hall” she said trying to gauge her sons reaction.

“your joking, I’m a grown man mom” said Kenny laughing trying to cover for the fact he’d been wanting to get you into bed since he’d seen you in the airport in those skin tight pants he loved so much.

“Its fine” you interjected not wanting to upset Kenny’s mum and to stop a fight over a room before you’d even settled in. “its fine, I totally respect that. We respect that don’t we ken” you said looking at him with pleading eyes to drop it.

“fine, its fine” he said turning to walk upstairs leaving His mum feeling guilty, though she would never admit it. Honestly she had no problem with the two of you sharing a room but who wants to hear the inevitable through thin walls on the first weekend of meeting your sons possible future wife.

“thankyou” she mouthed quietly to you smiling at how gracious and kind you had been at trying to avoid an awkward situation on your first meeting. You smiled back and followed Kenny upstairs to your room for the next few days. It was a gorgeous guest room, you dropped your bags off and crossed the hall to see Kenny in his childhood room. It was painted blue and like you expected there where wrestling and hockey pictures and posters all over the walls. “cute,” you said smiling at him

“its changed a little but not much” he said smiling back “my mom painted but put all my pictures back up” he laughed.

“that’s sweet, she probably wanted it to be the same for when you got back” you said.

“not that I ever got the chance much” Kenny sadly replied.

“she understood why though” you mentioned reassuringly with your arm on his back.

“you know, I never thought id get a hot girl in my room” he said laughing

“you still wont” you said getting up to go downstairs “come on lets go hang out” you laughed Kenny following reluctantly.

 you spent the rest of the evening chilling out in the kitchen, drinking wine with his mum while him and his dad watched sports on tv. “I’m glad I got to meet you” his mum said to you smiling

“me too, I’m so glad to finally meet everyone and happy for Kenny to spend some family time at home, he’s always on the road I’ve told him he needs to make more of an effort” his mum appreciating your words.

“yeah but he’s busy doing what he loves, I would never tear him away from that” she said laughing at him and his dad.

A few hours later it was time to head to bed, his mum and dad had called it a night a few hours earlier but you and Kenny had stayed up to chill and watch a little tv together. “I’m heading up babe” you said pecking him on the cheek

“okay babe me too then” he said getting up to turn everything off  before following you upstairs

You waited for him at the top of the stairs, pulling him into a hug “guess ill see you in the morning” you teased

“unless you wanna sneak over in a little bit” he teased

“Kenny … no, I don’t want to disrespect your mom” you said back shrugging.

“okay okay, can I at least get a hand job in the bathroom” he laughed  

“goodnight Kenny” you said turning to walk away.

After completing your evening routine you settled down for the night, it was hard to drift off knowing your man was just over the hall, who you had been dying to touch since before the last time you had said goodbye all those weeks ago. Eventually your eyes began to feel heavy and just as you where settling in for the night your phone began to buzz, straight away you knew who it was. – im lonely- it read, you rolled your eyes, it was gonna be along night.

[starrybethany]

Leon Draisaitl: Glorious by Macklemore

Word count: 3004

Music video link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OrLroFa0AI

Lyrics link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSFz3NRSSc4

You know I'm back like I never left

Another sprint, another step

Another day, another breath

I take a deep breath, pushing open the door to the small building that was once my everything. Now, my company is spread across the continent in multiple stores. My heels click softly on the tile that I spent two hours picking out as I step inside the building, watching as everyone slowly turns to see who entered.

“Boss, we heard you were coming back but we just didn’t know when!” Veronica, my old assistant and closest friend here in Edmonton, pulls me into a tight hug.

I’m surprised by the kind greeting. Contact with all of the employees here in Edmonton fell apart except for being FaceBook friends when I opened the headquarters in Miami and started working out of there, so I just assumed they didn’t like me anymore.

And they aren’t the only people that I assumed didn’t want to speak to me anymore.

Been chasing dreams, but I never slept

I got a new attitude and a lease on life

And some peace of mind

“So to recap, we’re moving the headquarters from Miami back to Edmonton, keeping this store open to advertise it as our original location, and we’re opening the branch in Winnipeg to become the seventy sixth branch. Any questions?” I ask, scanning the room before ending the meeting.

The employees converse amongst each other as they exit the room and I stack my papers up, letting out a sigh of confidence. I’m very excited for this new step in my career, and I’m even more excited to be back in my home city of Edmonton.

A loud squeal snaps me out of my thoughts and I look up to see Veronica stepping forward to wrap me up in a large hug.

“You did so good, I’m so proud of you! Wow, you’ve really changed a lot in four years- but in a good way. You just look so happy and confident in what you’re doing now,” she smiles widely, leaning back against the table. “So, is there a boyfriend making you happy too?”

I chuckle. Same old Veronica. “Nope, no boyfriend. I’m too busy for a boyfriend.”

“I’m pretty sure you used that excuse four years ago too and someone convinced you otherwise,” she hints cheekily.

“Get back to work, Veronica.”

Seek and I find I can sleep when I die

Wanna piece of the pie, grab the keys to the ride

And shit I'm straight

“Hey boss, we’re heading out. Do you want us to lock up or anything?” One of my employees asks, sticking his head in my doorway.

“No, it’s fine. Have a good night,” I bid, not looking up from my papers.

“You too. Don’t stay here too late.”

I nod but don’t respond, trying to figure out the numbers in my head.

It’s only four hours later when I realize that it’s one o’clock in the morning and that I should probably leave to get some sleep.

I'm on my wave, I'm on my wave

Get out my wake, I'm running late, what can I say?

Well apparently I needed more sleep than what I got because I slept past my alarm and now I’m running late on my second week back. I need to work out more often because I’m out of breath just from running down the street towards my office. I figured it would be faster than trying to drive through the hecticness of Edmonton traffic.

I’m trying to avoid the deep cracks in the sidewalk and before I know it I’m running into a hard body, about to fall over until an arm reaches out and grabs my own.

“I’m so sorry!” We exclaim at the same time.

I look up at the sound of the familiar voice, eyes bulging when I see it’s the one who was once the love of my life. I watch as Leon drags his eyes up from the concrete. His eyes light up when he recognizes me and I swallow to keep my heart inside of my body.

“Y/N, you’re back.”

I heard you die twice, once when they bury you in the grave

And the second time is the last time that somebody mentions your name

So when I leave here on this earth, did I take more than I gave?

Did I look out for the people or did I do it all for fame?

“Yeah, um, we’re moving back to uh, Edmonton,” I stutter through my words, just like I did when I first met Leon. He made me so nervous back then but he was so patient with me and listened carefully to every word, reassuring my many apologies. I guess he still makes me nervous.

“How is your empire?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

I laugh. He always referred to my company as my empire, knowing the potential that both it and I have. I guess he never considered that the potential would have to cause me to move.

“It’s good, uh,” I smile brightly at the memory of the other day, “I met with a manufacturer the other day and they already knew my name. Like I normally have to introduce myself, you know? But he was just like, “Hey, Y/N Y/L/N, it’s great to see you!” And it’s so cool to think that I have a legacy like that. And then he said that his daughter loved my bracelets so I had to give her the flower one that all of the preteen girls love. He said she would love it.”

I smile at the memory and snap out of my rambling, my eyes shifting back over to Leon’s. He gives me the admiring smile he always gives me when I talk about my business- he used to say it’s because I’m so passionate about it and it makes him even more attracted to me.

And from this smile, I’m assuming it still does.

Legend it's exodus searching for euphoria

Trudging through the mud to find the present, no ignoring us

Got 20,000 deep off in the street like we some warriors

My mama told me never bow your head, woo!

“So, uh, how’s hockey?” I question, trying to get the topic off of me.

“It’s good. Not as good as when you were in the stands,” he shrugs nonchantalty but my heart beats rapidly at the remark.

I can’t help but study him. His hair’s gotten longer since the last time I saw him and I have to hold back my giggle. I always used to beg him to grow his hair out but he would protest- looks like he finally complied as soon as I left. His green eyes sparkle in the sunlight and my mind flashes back to when he used to hold me in his arms, those eyes staring into my own as we would talk about our hopes and dreams.

God, all I want to do right now is pull him into me by the collar and kiss him.

I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

My phone vibrates in my hand and we snap out of our little staring contest. I watch as Leon’s eyes snap to the device in distaste and I check to see that it’s Veronica wondering where I am. I send her back a quick text with a sigh and then look up to see Leon already watching me.

I can’t help but blush, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I should probably go,” I state.

“Yeah, you have an empire to run,” he says proudly, stepping to the side and motioning me past him. I smile shyly, moving past him reluctantly. Is this really it? Are we going to reunite just to leave each other so suddenly? “Oh, Y/N.” I turn around, raising my eyebrows in question. “We should go out for dinner sometime. Fully catch up and everything.”

I nod, quietly answering, “I’d like that.”

“Cool, me too. I’ll text you.”

I nod once more, turning around and doing my best not to dance until I turn the corner and I’m out of his sight. I missed Edmonton a lot- I missed my family, my friends, my employees, the city, but the thing, or person, that I missed the most was Leon.

And now I’m getting it all back, but mostly importantly, I’m getting the love of my life back.

It's who I am, how could I forget?

I made it through the darkest part of the night

“So your stocks took a sharp dip just before you moved the headquarters to Miami.” I remember that- that was the first and last time I cried in Leon’s arms. I usually hold everything in, I like to leave the stress of work at the office but I just couldn’t that night. I already wasn’t sure if I should be moving or not and that just seemed like a sign.

I can still remember the shock on Leon’s face as I fell into his grip, holding onto his sweater tighter than I’ve ever held on before.

“Why was that?”

I make eye contact with the local manufacturer. It’s very important to me to find work within the community so I can publicize that on my products.

“The stocks went down because it was in the summer when we moved the headquarters. There aren’t a lot of holidays in the summer where jewelry is wanted so our stock always tends to go down in the summer months. We’re currently working on incentives to change that,” I inform him.

And now I'll see the sunrise

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious

I'm feeling glorious

We make small chat as we walk out of the conference room towards the lobby of the building. I glance towards Veronica at reception to see a mischievous twinkle in her eye and give her a questioning look but brush her off, returning my attention to the manufacturer.

“And we’re currently working on 100% recycable jewelry-”I cut myself off as soon as I see him. You can always tell when Leon’s in a room.

He’s sitting in one of the chairs, practically looking like a giant in the tiny piece of furniture. He’s playing with his hands and by the time we make eye contact, his eyes are already on me. The sunlight streams into the room through the window behind him, giving him a golden glow.

I clear my throat, ignoring the inquisitive look the manufacturer’s giving me to continue my sentence.

“100% recyclable jewelry that will probably come early next year.”

“That sounds great, my granddaughter loves that sort of stuff,” he responds.

“Yeah? I’ll be sure to send you a bracelet just for her,” I smile politely, bidding him goodbye as he leaves.

Before I can even greet Leon he’s at my side. “Should you just be giving stuff out for free? I don’t think that’s how empires work.”

I can’t help but snort out a laugh at his dorky joke. “What are you doing here, Leon?”

“I texted you yesterday but you didn’t respond.”

“I didn’t?” My eyes widen. I pull out my phone to show that I never pressed ‘send’ on the text I meant to send back.

The hockey player laughs. “Typical.”

I push his shoulder jokingly.

“Come on, I have something to show you,” he urges, grabbing my wrist.

“Hold all of my calls for the rest of the day, Veronica,” I call out as he pulls me out the door.

“You got it!”

The crib looking Victorian (oh yes it is)

You know that we been going in

Since we hopped out that DeLorean (DeLorean, yeah we win)

“Where did you find this house?” I gasp in disbelief, slamming the passenger’s door shut as I gape up at the beautiful house.

“You’re supposed to wait and let me open your door,” he whines, stepping out of the driver’s seat. I follow him up to the house, watching as he opens the front door.

“Look at how beautiful this hardwood is,” I gush, walking slowly throughout the house. He follows me from a few feet back, admiring me as I touch all of the unique features of the house. “Seriously, Leon, where did you find this house?”

“Called a realtor, or two.” Then he lowers his volume to a level he probably thinks I can’t hear, “Or five.” Then he raises it again. “Asked if they knew a good victorian house for sale. And it has to be victorian.”

I laugh at that. He would always make fun of me for how in awe I was at The Addams Family’s house. But I’ve wanted a large Victorian house to raise my kids and dogs in.

“Is it for sale?” I question, looking back at my former lover. He already knows why I’m asking.

“You may have some competition.”

“Oh yeah? I can probably beat them,” I state confidently, crossing my arms.

“I don’t think you can.”

“Yeah? Why not?” I raise my eyebrows.

He gives me a cheeky smile. “Because it’s me.”

En garde, things are just things

They don't make you who you are

Can't pack up a U-Haul and take it with you when you're gone

“Leon!” I whine, stomping my foot like a two year old. “Why would you show me this house if you’ve already wanted to buy it?”

“I have a plan,” he assures me, rushing forward to grab my hands. “You’ve moved back to Edmonton for good, right?”

I nod.

“And obviously there’s still romantic feelings and chemistry between us,” he starts.

I look down at the floor shyly, not knowing where he’s going with this. His fingers lift my chin up to meet his gaze again and he continues. “And the place you’re renting now, it came fully furnished, right?”

“How do you know that?” I ask.

“Please, you think Veronica would not drop hints to me while I was waiting on you for twenty minutes?”

“You were waiting for twenty minutes?”

“That’s besides the point,” he avoids my question, “This is the perfect house for us. Four bedrooms, the master bedroom on the main floor so we can get funky while the kids are in bed-”I laugh while he wiggles his eyebrows-”A nice office so that you can work from home if you want to. And have you seen the backyard?” He pulls me over to the kitchen window so we can see the luscious grass. “That’s a backyard made for an ice rink, babe. Come on, move in here with me.”

We posted on the porch, my family's glasses to the stars

My grandma smiling down on me like woo, that boy got bars

Okay, okay, yes I do

I said amen and hallelujah, let me testify too

I watch as he locks the front door, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“Just think, baby, the next time you’re going to be here it’s going to be our house. With you and me.”

“You and me,” I repeat softly.

Another morning, a morning, don't let self get in my way

I got my breath, I got my faith and I remember why I came

“Good morning,” I greet, stepping into the office early like I do every morning so Veronica can fill me in on what’s going on during the day. “What’s going on, Veronica?”

“So you’re just going to be filling out forms until nine, then you have a meeting with Mr. Waterson until ten thirty-””Can that be rescheduled?” I request softly. My assistant gives me an odd look but nods. Usually I refuse to be the one rescheduling or cancelling- I think it’s rude, but today I woke up feeling less confident than normal and couldn’t bear to look myself in the mirror.

“You have a meeting with Isabelle at one thirty-”The beautiful, young, talented designer? No way I can handle that today. “Reschedule that one too. I’m going to go start on paperwork, please don’t bother me unless you absolutely need me.”

I avoid eye contact as I make my way to my office, hoping to distract myself with my work.

I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

“Am I absolutely needed?” I snap, looking up as my office door is opened. My boyfriend closes the door behind him, eyes widening from my harsh tone.

I sigh, looking back down at the paperwork.

He quietly takes a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk, leaning forward and waiting for me to say something. It’s always pissed me off yet left me in awe at how well he knows me- he knows that if he confronts me I’ll immediately get defensive. He just needs to wait for me to put my guard down more.

And he gets it when I lean back in my chair, meeting his eyes.

“Do you want to explain why I got a call from your assistant saying that you’re in a mood today?” He questions softly.

“Because she’s a snitch?”

He laughs at that but leans back in the chair, giving me a look to talk.

I look down at my desk, murmuring, “It’s just a low confidence day, I guess.”

My eyes move back up in surprise to see him pointing an accusing finger at me. “You stop being mean to my girlfriend right now!”

“Leon, what are you doing?” I giggle.

“I’m serious, if you keep telling her that she’s not beautiful and smart I will not hesitate to fuck you up!”

I laugh at that, laughing even harder when he tugs me up and out of my chair. “Now you say it with me ‘I was born to be a boss ass bitch.’”

“Leon-””Say it with me!”

“I was born to be a boss ass bitch!” We scream together.

It's who I am, how could I forget?

I made it through the darkest part of the night

And now I see the sunrise

“You created a company from the bottom, you sell bracelets and necklaces and earrings- and hell, 100% recyclable jewelry,” Leon claps like I just found the cure to cancer. “A beautiful woman who cares about the environment. You shouldn’t be here, you should be-”He grabs me by the waist, placing me gently on my desk.

“What are you doing, Leon?” I squeal.

“Stand up,” he urges.

I stand up and for the first time ever, I’m taller than him.

“You should be up there! Look at you, a magnificent woman on the pedestal that she deserves.”

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious

We gon' be alright, put that on my life

When I open my eyes, hope I see you shine

“Do you feel better now?” My boyfriend asks once I’m safely off the desk and in his arms.

I nod, pulling him closer to me. “Thank you, Leon. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“That’s a lie,” he scoffs.

I gasp, pulling back to hit his shoulder gently. “Why would you say that?”

“You left me for several months,” he exclaims.

“But I was thinking of you the whole time,” I confess. He smiles softly, leaning in to place his lips on mine. They move against each other, a comfort that we didn’t know we needed until now.

We're planting a flag they don't understand

The world is up for grabs

We gon' be alright, put that on my life

When I open my eyes, hope I see you shine

We're planting a flag they don't understand

“My businesswoman, look at you,” Leon wolf-whistles from bed as I step out of the walk-in-closet in our beautiful, Victorian house. I roll my eyes but smile, buttoning up my blazer.

“I’ll be at your game tonight,” I remind him, leaning over to kiss his lips.

“Are we what they call a power couple?” He questions.

“I guess we are, Leon. I guess we are.”

The world is up for grabs

I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

It's who I am, how could I forget?

I’ll never get used to seeing Leon’s games, and I think he’ll never get used to seeing me in my natural element designing or being in meetings. We support each other unconditionally, because that’s what good partners do.

And the love we share is undeniable and nothing like I’ve ever felt before. If this is how we are now, I wonder what we’re going to be like in a few years with more goals, more sales, and a couple of cute kids.

I made it through the darkest part of the night

And now I see the sunrise

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious

He scores a goal for me that night. And I save a recyclable bracelet for him.

[queeniewriteshockey]

Stay The Night || Part 4 || Nolan Patrick + Reader

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR MAKING EVERYONE WAIT FOREVER. Please please please forgive me. I know I am literally the WORST! I hope you like this installment. There is ONE more part to this story and it’s almost finished. I love you all Requested: Y/N Word Count: 2,312 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 (final)

The days following your leave from the not so beautiful city of Philly are filled with many questions and few answers. The drive to Winnipeg did nothing to alleviate your mind or put you at ease. It was 29 hours of memories constantly playing as if your mind was a flipbook. You'd blink, and the memory would change; a song on the radio would trigger a different thought, or a landmark would remind you of something.

It wasn't the first time you'd driven this route. You'd done it once before when you'd moved from Winnipeg to Philly. Nolan hadn't been with you, but you'd spent most of the drive-in contact with him. You'd spent hours on the phone with him as you drove the lonely roads at hours of the night and day when no one was on the road. He kept you awake and entertained, or he checked in with you at pit stops. He was the one that convinced you to stop for the night and not try to drive straight through. It was a 24-hour drive; he wanted you alive.

You snort at the memory and shake your head. What had you expected when you did this? Did you really think he was just going to drop everything and realize he loved you? Romantic fantasies were for the young, and you felt like you'd aged three decades in the few months you'd lived in Philly.

Just as before, driving straight through was not an option. The light of day was starting to crest the horizon, and you'd still only had a small amount of sleep if you could even call it that. A half an hour tops in the car park of Nolan's place was not sleeping. That was an error in judgment and nothing else.

Winter nights were long and cold, but the sunrise was beautiful; the varying shades of mauve and tangerine mixing as the rays of light catch little dust motes in the air is a sight you still marvel at, no matter how old you feel.

The tiredness you felt before you'd fled from Nolan with the small amount of dignity you had seeps back into your bones as you drive. It weighs you down and makes your body sag from it all. Your shoulders feel like the world is sitting directly on them. You are not Atlas; your arms were not crafted to hold so much weight.

A voice in the back of your head tells you to stop. It begs you to pull over and rest. The voice sounds more like Nolan than it does you, and you do what it says. Even in your fit of despair, you can not deny Nolan anything. You hate the hold he has on you, but it's your own fault, not his.

The rest stop is nearly empty when you pull into one of the stalls and drop your seat back so that you can take a nap. You cover-up in the comforter you pulled off your bed during the quick pack and move you'd done about four hours earlier and use your pillow to catch a little shut-eye. The moment you let your eyes shut, the world fades away. The weight of your comforter and the warmth it brings draws you under.

Waking up is a chore, and it takes you a moment to understand what's brought you back to consciousness. Your phone vibrates on the seat beside you. Nolan's name taunts you from the screen.

It's his name that forces you to wake up. It's his voice on the left message that pushes you out of the rest stop and back down the road. His message was so casual, so innocent. A simple "Call me, please?" He had no idea how broken you were, but that was by design. You didn't want him to know. It wasn't his fault, after all. You only had you to blame for the million pieces your heart had shattered into.

You turned the radio up loud and hit the highway and did your level best not to look back. You didn't want to think about what you were leaving behind because the truth was, there was nothing in Philadelphia for you. Were you overreacting? Probably. But the dream had felt so real and then seeing him with her, you just snapped. You couldn't take it anymore. You hated Philly, and you hated yourself for thinking you could have what you wanted when you weren't willing to speak up.

It was fine. You were going to be okay. You'd go back to Winnipeg, get a job in the field you went to school for, and find a better life. That was the plan that pushed you through the long drive. You stopped somewhere in Wisconsin for the night, slept and showered, and continued on. You didn't stop for anything but food and the bathroom. Before you knew it, you were pulling into the driveway of your parent's home.

It was late in the day, late enough that everyone was already home from work. Your mom was bursting through the door before you even had a chance to get out of the car. The worry on her face was evident even from a distance of half a kilometer. You probably should have called her and told her you were coming home, but you were too busy avoiding Nolan, thoughts about him, and his phone calls. It didn't even occur to you to give her a heads up. As it was, you have a voicemail, and three missed calls from Nolan. A surprisingly large amount from someone who often forgot what a cellphone even was.

Your mom pulls you into a hug as you get out of the car, something on your face must have told her all she needed to know. The embrace was firm and warm, and everything you needed. You return the hug just as fiercely and let yourself finally hurt the way you’d been trying not to. The tears that threatened to spill as you fled Nolan’s place two days ago eventually fall and all you can do is hold onto your mom. You’re thankful she doesn’t let go or ask questions. Words were not something you had the ability to hold onto. Your thoughts were like grains of sand slipping through parted fingers, and words were worse.

She holds onto you until you pull away and wipe your face. Her hands cup the sides of your face and smooth your hair down. The corners of her eyes droop with worry, and her eyes shine with unshed tears. It’s a mom thing. Or so she’s always said. “You cry, I cry. It’s that invisible umbilical cord. It’s just the way it is.” You don’t like making your mom cry.

“Philly sucked,” you tell her simply as you sniffle.

She nods and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get you inside, and you can tell me all about it.”

You let yourself be swept up in her embrace again, and the two of you walk up the drive together. Your father is standing at the door, waiting. He says nothing just loops an arm around you and presses a kiss to your temple as you pass him and head into the living room.

You tell your mom some of the reasons why you hated Philly, leaving a Nolan sized hole in your explanation. If she noticed, she doesn’t ask. She’s always been good like that. Eventually, you’ll tell her. It might be a few days. It might be a few years. She knows, though, that eventually, she’ll find out.

“Is it cool if I crash here while I look for a job?” You ask. You don’t want to assume anymore, even though you know the answer will always be yes. It’s not your home anymore.

She waves off your request with a scoff and tells you to go wash up.

Your bedroom is exactly the way you left it, and it does nothing for your mental strength. There are pictures of Nolan all over the place. There’s even a Wheatkings jersey hanging on your closet door. For a moment, you wonder how much that jersey can get you. It’s game-worn, after all, but you can’t do that. You just stick it in the closet and forget about it.

~~

It’s weird being back in Winnipeg, but familiar, and you kind of need that stability at the moment. Life goes on, and the world keeps turning, so breaking down and forgetting to keep going isn’t an option. You give yourself only a few days to collect yourself before looking for a new job and once again starting over. You did it in Philly, where you knew only one person. You can do it in Winnipeg, where you know many people.

Finding that job wasn’t hard. Neither was getting an apartment. You had enough saved up from your job in Philly for a down payment. Before you knew it, your life was pieced back together, and Philly was four months in the past. It was almost as if you’d never gone to Philly. The only thing missing was Nolan. He was harder to shake off as it turned out. It took two, maybe three months, for the calls and texts to stop coming in. You answered none of them. Deleted his voicemails without listening (most of the time) and changed the settings in your texts with him so he couldn’t tell if they’d been read or not. Of course, they had been.

Other social media was harder to ignore. You’d see him in your Instagram story notifications long after the calls and texts died. He was still there, even if you wished he wasn’t. He’d always been thick in the head, but it was never in the wrong way. He’s dumb, but he was the right kind of dumb. The type of dumb that made you laugh. The kind of dumb that made it easy to fall in love with him. He was stoic and flat and the sweetest guy in the world.  Losing him as a friend hurt, but you couldn’t be around him and be as in love with him as you were. You just. You couldn’t.

“Hey did you hear about Nolan,” Leslie says as she slides into the booth and sets your beer down in front of you.

You look up from your phone, startled by her question. It was as if she’d known you were thinking about him. You weren't looking at a picture, but his Instagram handle mocked you from where it sat in the list of people who had viewed your story.

“Uh,” you say eloquently, “no. I haven’t talked to Nolan since I left Philly.” It was the truth, though the why was left vague. He was busy with the team, or you were busy with work.

“Well,” she says, turning to face you. Her smile is as wide as the Chesire cats, and it makes you raise an eyebrow. Something tells you she’s been itching to gossip for a while. “Apparently,” she starts, and you grab for your beer and try to settle in for a good story. “He isn’t staying in Philly this summer. Apparently he and Jaqueline broke up.”

“Who?” You ask because you have no idea who Jaqueline is. You stopped paying attention to his love life when you left Philly.

“You know, Jaquie, that girl he was seeing for a while down there?”

Was that her name? You probably should have taken a more active role in learning about her, but the idea hurt more than you wanted to admit. “Oh, right. That’s too bad,” you say in an attempt to sound supportive of your friend. You’re not supposed to be happy when a relationship ends, after all.

“Yeah, sucks. But, that means… guess who’s back for the summer?” She’s practically humming with excitement as she says it.

You don’t need to ask ‘who.’ There was no point, given the topic of the conversation. Nolan would be back in The Peg, which meant you’d need to find ways to make yourself scarce. Having the same group of friends was the downside of cutting him out of your life.

“Oh, cool,” you say because you needed something to say to cover the fact that you were freaking out inside and planning your escape routes. You know that you’ll be dragged to a few parties when he gets back.

“Oh, cool? That’s your reaction? Your best friend is coming to visit, and you say oh, cool? What happened in Philly, girl?”

“Nothing,” you say honestly. Nothing did happen. Nolan did nothing wrong. You broke your own heart. “It’ll be nice to have him back.”

“Hey,” a voice cuts in, breaking off your thoughts and ceasing your heart. You look up so quickly your vision brightens slightly with the combination of the alcohol mixing with your nervous system. Nolan is standing across the way a bit, looking just as good as he did the day you left Philly. The confusion on his face is just as prominent as it was that night, but there’s something else in those pretty blue eyes.

Hurt.

Concern.

Worry.

His eyes were always the most expressive part about him. People liked to give him a hard time; they liked to tease him about being emotionless, but you knew the truth. They just didn’t know what to look for.

“NOLAN!” Leslie practically screeches before she launches herself out of her seat and throws herself into his arms. “We missed you so much,” she says into the embrace.

Nolan wraps his arms around her and returns the hug, but his eyes are on you, freezing you to the seat. “I missed you, too,” he says though you’re not sure if he’s talking to Leslie or to you.

[luluwquidprocrow]

what are you doing the rest of your life?

originally posted: july 16th, 2017

word count: 2,863 words

rated: gen

beatrice/bertrand/lemony

music, domestic fluff, established relationship, three people in love being outrageously precious, very little angst and no one dies!!!!, a lot of references to cake and ice cream

summary: Bertrand tries to find the song of the summer; Beatrice finds out she doesn’t have any ice cream; Lemony finds out they’d all be pretty lost without each other.

It was summer, which meant Beatrice had the windows in her apartment open wide and bought fresh fruit every single morning, so the whole place smelled like strawberries. It also meant that Bertrand was once again on his one-man quest to find the quintessential Frank Sinatra song that defined this particular summer. Beatrice, however, kept insisting that another artist was a better fit, which is why the moment Bertrand sat down with the records, she’d picked up one of the Tito Puente ones and put it on.

“You’re a cruel, cruel woman,” Bertrand had said, “insulting my music tastes.”

Beatrice had just winked at him and sashayed off into the kitchen.

I sat at Beatrice’s desk and watched Bertrand. I meant to start opening the mail, but watching Bertrand sit on the floor in the soft afternoon sunlight and pour over his and Beatrice’s records was a good deal more entertaining. I was reasonably sure he had a method he was using to sort them, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. “What was it last summer?” I asked.

“You remember perfectly well what it was last summer,” Bertrand said, grinning as he put the records into piles. “You picked it, after all.”

It was true. I did remember perfectly well. Last summer had been particularly lovely and particularly stressful. Summer Wind was a good fit for most of it.

“I still say it should’ve been Wave,” Bertrand said. “It’s much more optimistic.”

I hummed Wave while I started on the mail, so that the grin stayed on Bertrand’s face. There was a letter from the Duchess of Winnipeg, bemoaning the fact that her latest assignment was very boring without us, and that she was looking forward to when she came back to the city. There was a single photograph of a building from my brother, and I recognized it as the library. Tomorrow’s date was scrawled across the back. It was short notice, but I’d probably be able to meet him there. I wondered what he’d say, if it was a personal call or something for the organization. I certainly wasn’t ready for the latter. The more time passed, the less ready I felt for a number of things.

“You’re doing it again,” Bertrand said. He wasn’t even looking at me, instead studying the latest record he’d picked up.

“No I’m not,” I said quickly.

“You are. We said we weren’t going to talk about work today,” Bertrand said, his voice gentle, “so don’t think about work, Lemony.”

We had said something like that, but it had been very early in the morning and the three of us had been in bed, so I hadn’t been paying much attention when Beatrice mumbled it into her pillow. But she was right, and Bertrand was right, and I was probably alright.

“We’ll go with you, anyway,” Bertrand said, and then he looked at me with a great fondness in his expression that I was close to convincing myself that I deserved.

I slid the mail into the desk drawer.

Bertrand cast a quick glance in the direction of the kitchen, where Beatrice had been for the past hour, decorating a cake with the precision only she could manage, and then stood up and placed a hand on the record player.

I raised an eyebrow. “She may just kill you, Bertrand,” I said.

“I will take that chance,” Bertrand said. He lifted the needle, removed the record, and slid it back into its case. “Remember me fondly,” he continued, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head.

A year had gone by and I still wasn’t used to how free Bertrand was with his affection. My mouth did something that seasoned experts would call a bashful smile. “I’ll do my best.”

“Bertrand,” Beatrice immediately called from the kitchen, because she had a sixth sense for when someone touched her record player, and the sudden silence was a dead giveaway, “you’d better have a damn good reason for turning off the love of my life.”

“You have a third love of your life?” I asked.

“Please,” Beatrice said, striding into the living room and carrying the cake, her purple sundress swishing at her ankles. “We’re all aware that Tito Puente is my one and only. You two are just poor substitutes.”

I grinned, because after all this time I knew when she was kidding. Beatrice’s razor-sharp wit, and the touches of playfulness behind it, was one of my favorite things about her. “Do poor substitutes get cake?”

“I want ice cream with mine,” Bertrand said absently, fitting another record into the player.

Beatrice paused as she set the cake down on the coffee table. “Do we have any ice cream?” she asked to the opening notes of Come Fly With Me.

“Is there a reason we wouldn’t have any ice cream?” I asked.

“Is there a reason?” Bertrand said, frowning down at the record player, his hand on his chin as he tried to listen to us and the song at the same time. “You know, I don’t think we should pick this one until we’re married. It’s sort of a victory song, isn’t it? And it clearly mentions honeymoons—”

Beatrice and I blinked and looked each other, both of us a very spectacular shade of red. She raised her eyebrows as if to ask me if he was being serious or just facetious, even though Bertrand had never been known to be facetious. I shrugged, not quite sure what to tell her, because I was only marginally sure that he was being serious myself.

“What I mean,” Beatrice said, smiling at me the kind of smile that doesn’t go away once you’ve started, “is that I think we might have eaten it all.”

Bertrand gasped. “I am deeply disappointed,” he said, not looking disappointed at all, or showing any recognition of what had just happened, “and to show my disappointment, I’ll have to leave and have my own musical love affair.”

“Well,” I said, “if we had heavy cream, whole milk, vanilla extract, salt, sugar, and if we were willing to wait, we could make it ourselves.”

“I am willing to wait for the promise of ice cream made by Lemony Snicket,” Bertrand said. “It’s the only thing keeping me in this apartment, beyond the fact that Frank Sinatra is dead and it would be a very boring relationship.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes. “Lemony, let’s leave Bertrand to the memory of his other man,” she said, and she linked her arm with mine and pulled me towards the kitchen.

“Look, they didn’t call him ol’ blue eyes for nothing!” Bertrand called after us, carefully removing the record.

I stood beside Beatrice in the kitchen and pulled down what she couldn’t reach, because otherwise she would insist that climbing on top of countertops was reasonable even though it had already resulted in four injuries on two separate occasions. “Would you do it?” I asked, setting the sugar on the counter.

“Do what?”

I swallowed. “Marry us.”

Beatrice turned slowly. She looked at me, something very soft in her eyes, a sort of disbelieving hope. She looked like that a lot lately, especially when we were all together and she thought I wasn’t looking at her, and I didn’t know whether or not I liked it. I tried to reassure her.

“That is,” I went on, “I think there would be a reasonable amount of logistics we’d need to work out, but Bertrand and I have been thinking about it and we figured it shouldn’t be all that difficult, although there is a certain amount of difficulty presented in all things, but I feel as if trying to sort through them would be fairly advantageous and worthwhile this time, and—”

But she took my hand and kissed me sweetly. She tasted like the strawberries I knew she’d been eating instead of putting them all on the cake, and I closed my eyes and held her close. When Beatrice pulled back, she rested her forehead against mine. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I would.”

“That,” I said quietly, “is very nice to know. Especially because we were considering a fairly lavish proposal.”

The corner of her mouth curled up. “How many musical numbers?”

“Oh, at least three,” I said. Which wasn’t entirely true, because Bertrand and I had only planned two, but I considered our abilities to put together another one and decided it was probably feasible.

We mixed the ice cream and placed it in the freezer. While we waited for it to freeze, Beatrice put the cake back in the fridge and I took the two of them out to dinner at an Italian restaurant, where we sat at a small table outside by the river, where the warm breeze ruffled Bertrand’s hair to the extent that I gave him my hat to wear.

“A noble sacrifice,” Bertrand said, putting it on his head. “They’ll write ballads about you, Lemony Snicket.”

“Sonnets,” I said. “Beatrice will write sonnets.”

“Don’t bother me,” Beatrice said, and she dug around in her purse for a pen with one hand and straightened out a napkin with the other. “I’m already composing in my head.”

Bertrand frowned, and then pulled a pen out of the ribbon of my hat and handed it to her.

“What teamwork,” Beatrice said, and she kissed both of us on the cheek.

The meal was excellent. It involved a great deal of pasta and laughter, which was one of my favorite sort of meals, especially with the way the two of them laughed, Beatrice throwing her head back as she laughed and Bertrand’s amused chuckles.

The three of us walked along the river afterwards, and I let Bertrand keep my hat, even though I was truly reluctant to go without wearing it for too long. But it was a slow afternoon in the city that was turning into a quiet evening, and there were barely any other people out and about. The chances of running into someone we didn’t want to run into were probably slimmer than I thought.

I fell into step beside Bertrand. He laced his fingers with mine and we watched Beatrice race ahead of us like she usually did whenever she was outside, the wind pulling at her hair.

“She said she’d say yes,” I told him. “If we asked.”

Bertrand cleared his throat. “If we asked what?” he said, but I knew he was very clearly stalling for time.

“If,” I said, “we asked her to stand beside us in a formal setting in very fancy clothes and say a series of words that most people understand to be a vow of commitment and affection while surrounded by a good number of associates and hopefully none of our enemies—”

“Alright, alright,” Bertrand said, laughing a little. He smiled down at the sidewalk. “I’m glad.”

We were quiet for a while. Beatrice was still ahead of us, this time trying to tempt nearby pigeons closer to her, and only marginally succeeding.

“Would you?” Bertrand asked.

I swallowed. I wasn’t going to try to get out of it, because I had walked right into this one. “I—yes. Wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I would,” Bertrand said, as if it was that easy. “I have no reservations about you two. But I know how you are, Lemony.” He smiled a little, that sad, worried smile that made me sad and worried in return. “I know you’ll run if we don’t hold on to you.”

“I wouldn’t run,” I said. “And I will thank you not to point out my previous track record of doing just that, because they were all for relatively legitimate reasons.” I liked to think that I wouldn’t do it again, if the sort of situation arose where it was something I had to consider. I liked to think that marriage wasn’t one of those things, because it was something I genuinely wanted. But the uncertainties of the world sometimes made even that lovely thing seem so far out of my grasp that, if I was honest with myself, I had considered slipping away into the night so that I wouldn’t ruin anything else. It was an upsetting thing to think, but I had thought of it as much as I had thought about those musical numbers.

Bertrand looked out over the water. “Do you think I’m not scared too, Lemony? About the things we do, the positions we put ourselves in, whether this assignment or the next one will be the one that takes one of you away from us?”

“No,” I said. “I’m not that much of a fool to think that my fears aren’t universal.”

“Sometimes you act like you do,” Bertrand said quietly. “And I am under no delusion that our feelings for each other will fix any or all of our problems. But they can be a little easier to deal with that way, when you know you aren’t alone. You know that, don’t you?”

I wanted very much to believe that, but every time Beatrice or Bertrand said it, it never seemed to sink in the way it should. It is one thing to love someone, or multiple someones, to love them so much you often can’t think of anything else, but another thing to trust them and the things they say and yourself, especially when you live the kind of lives that we lived. Perhaps I did forget about it sometimes, the terrible recklessness with which Beatrice occasionally acted, how Bertrand tended to be much too quiet at times, the things all of us did when we forgot we weren’t alone. The three of us were not perfect people, not by any means, but three imperfect people doing what they can for each other in a turbulent world is sometimes better than three perfect people going through life without a care about anything else.

I squeezed Bertrand’s hand and didn’t say anything more.

By the time we returned to Beatrice’s apartment, the ice cream had solidified into something manageable, and the three of us sat down on the couch with the cake, which Beatrice had still covered with a good deal of strawberries, and our homemade ice cream, which Bertrand ate first.

“Was it worth it, Bertrand?” Beatrice asked.

“Very worth it,” Bertrand grinned. “Entirely worth it.”

If I had to pick one thing about Bertrand that I liked the most—and it would be difficult, considering there were a great number of things I liked about him—I would still probably settle on how, even though he could jest just as good as Beatrice, there was a great sincerity in almost everything he said. It was easy to want to believe him. It was easy to believe him.

“To have two people such as yourselves to face the oncoming adversity of the world with is a great relief that I don’t think I have ever fully appreciated until this moment,” I said. “And if I could spend the rest of my life with anyone, I would sincerely want it to be the two of you.”

They didn’t look surprised, and they didn’t say anything. Sometimes you get to a point with other people where you don’t have to say anything more, where everything else is just immediately and silently understood, and all the rest doesn’t matter. Beatrice took one of my hands, and Bertrand took the other, and we sat there with the fading sunset on our shoulders, and then went back to eating our cake with a little bit of difficulty given that we were reluctant to let go of each other.

Suddenly, Bertrand’s eyes went wide. “That’s it!” he exclaimed, and he scrambled to his feet, almost dropping his plate in the process.

“Hey, hey!” Beatrice said, snatching the plate from him. “Don’t be like that with the good plates.”

Bertrand rushed over to the record player. He pulled out one of the records from the piles still on the floor and put it in the player, then carefully placed the needle over it. He sat back down beside us, looking pleased with himself as the song started.

I want to see your face in every kind of light, in fields of dawn and forests of the night, and when you stand before the candles on a cake, oh, let me be the one to hear the silent wish you make— what are you doing the rest of your life?

I liked it a great deal more than Summer Wind or Wave. Even Beatrice seemed to enjoy the song, her head on my shoulder. Bertrand looked happier than anyone had any right to be, and I didn’t say anything about it, because that was how I felt, too.

“What are we doing the rest of our lives, boys?” Beatrice asked, her voice just above a whisper when the song ended.

“Staying right here,” I said into her hair.

“On this couch,” Bertrand added.

“Hm,” Beatrice said, frowning a little as she looked around the apartment. “But, you know, it might be a little too small when we have children.”

ending notes:

how many homemade ice cream recipes did I look up while trying to write this???? too many. and how many did I try???? zero, dammit.

also – summer wind, wave, come fly with me, and what are you doing the rest of your life

anyway! I have been trying to write a pretty long and very complicated fanfic with these three for the past month, but plot shenanigans have made it very difficult along with my real inability to write straight-up romance. writing is hard, cats. so I was like, ‘screw that!’ and decided I would write a non-angsty smaller fanfic to try and figure out how people even write romance. and honestly i’m still not sure.

[let-me-love-you-loki]

In a Day or Two--Ch. 3

Chapter 3

           “This… is… amazing,” I hummed, holding the cup close to my chest. It was just strong enough to get caffeine flooding into my veins. But it was creamy and slightly sweet. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had coffee this good.

           Kenny lifted his brows in what I assumed was an I told you so. He sat back in his chair, one hand outstretched, fingers wrapped around his cup of coffee, wrist balancing on the edge of the table. Once I glanced at them, I couldn’t look away from his hands. He had graceful, long fingers that I would have bet money saw a manicure at least once a month. There were places where I could just make out the roughness of callouses. It was a mesmerizing thing to just watch his fingers bend and flex as he turned his coffee in slow circles on the table.

           “Are you okay, Shaye-san?” he queried with a worried tone.

           I glanced up into his ice blue eyes and saw the furrow between his dirty blond brows. He’d stopped toying with his cup. Instead, he’d splayed his hands out, fingertips against the tabletop as he reached toward me.

           My heart started racing in my chest, afraid that I’d been caught staring. “I’m sorry, this coffee is just so good.”

           His look made me think that he didn’t quite believe me, but I’d known him less than four hours so I couldn’t tell for sure. He flattened his palm against the table, tapping his thumb in a slow rhythm. “Vietnamese coffee is like that. You get hooked pretty fast. At least, I did. There’s just something about it.”

           Something in how he pronounced about caught my attention. I felt one brow start to rise. “You said you’d lived in Tokyo for a long time. Where did you live before that?”

           “A few places. But I’m a Japanese citizen nowadays.”

           I took another sip of my coffee, nodding. “How much time did you spend in Canada?”

           His brows lifted towards his curls as a grin curved his mouth. “I was born in Winnipeg.”

           Heat rushed into my face even as I lifted my cup to my lips once again. “I knew there was something aboot you.” I made sure that I exaggerated the sound of the word, trying to make it sound as cartoonish as possible.

           Kenny laughed, hard enough to bend him back in his chair. His curls bounced as his head fell backward. I caught myself staring at the line of his throat, the brown and blond scruff that started just above his Adam’s apple. Something warm and playful settled in my chest at the sight.

           “It’s the one thing,” he replied at last. “I’ve lost almost all of the rest of the accent, but that one just seems to stick around.”

           I grinned back, leaning forward to rest my arms on the tabletop. “It’s such a small world.”

           “Why do you say that?” Kenny matched my posture. He was suddenly a foot away from me, the blue of his eyes brighter and more intricate at the short distance.

           I breathed in deep and slow. There was a faint scent of soap and shampoo around him. It made me feel giddy. “I was born while my parents were on one of my father’s business trips. In Winnipeg.”

           “No fucking way,” he breathed. His hands distracted me as he balled up his fist and rested his chin on it. “Some people might think it’s destiny that we ran into each other yesterday.”

           A smile played on the corners of my mouth. “I don’t believe in destiny. Do you?”

           He pointed at me, his fingers splayed out and moving like silk flowing in a breeze. I couldn’t help but watch the swoop and flow of his hands as he talked. “Under normal circumstances, I’d say no. But you…” His first two fingers skimmed gently along the edge of his bottom lip.

           It was distracting. I hoped he didn’t notice.

           “You’re making me question that, Shaye-san.”

~Ω~

           I sat in front of the television with a bowl of cereal in my hand, munching happily as I streamed one of my favorite shows. After the walk to the shopping gallery and back—the return trip laden with a variety of purchases—I was exhausted. I put away the groceries and changed into my most comfortable lounging clothes. Then I busted into my new food and decided that I was going to veg out for the rest of the day.

           My phone rang about twenty minutes into the episode. I smiled at my mother’s photo on the screen. Sitting my bowl on the coffee table, I swiped to answer the call and sank back onto the sofa.

           “Hi, Mama,” I said lazily, surprised at how clear the connection was. “How’s New York?”

           The sound of my mother’s laugh was a touch of home. “Overcrowded and noisy. How are you settling in?”

           I took a deep breath and spilt the entire story. The good and the bad. As I told my mother about navigating Tokyo and shopping gallery, I found myself purposely leaving Kenny out of the tale. For some reason, I didn’t want to share him with her.

           “Are you homesick yet?”

           “Almost from the time the plane landed.” I switched the phone to speaker and sat it on the cushion so I could finish my food. “But I’m adjusting. And, Mama, why are you awake at 12:30 in the morning?”

           “Your brother.”

           We talked for almost twenty minutes, my mom catching me up on everything that had happened since I’d flown out of La Guardia. My younger brother had apparently gotten caught in some trouble at school, and my father had left just beforehand for London for a trip.

           “Have you heard anything from—” A faint ping caught my attention just as a text message popped up on the screen. I didn’t recognize the number, but the message was clear. Shaye-san, let me know if you want to see the real Tokyo. It’s your destiny! Kenny

           “Shaye?”

           It took a moment for the sound of my mother’s voice to filter into my brain. I’d given him my number before we parted ways after that amazing Vietnamese coffee. Still, it was surprising to see him actually contact me.

           “Shaye!”

           I jumped, surprised by my mother’s voice. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, Mama. Let me know how things go with Damon. And tell Daddy I hope he has a safe trip and closes that big deal.”

           My mother said her love and goodbyes, although she sounded a little worried. I felt guilty for hurrying off the first contact I’d had with home since the plane had taken off in New York. But there was something electric about the inkling that our chance meetings might be the start of a friendship during my time in Japan.

           I finished my food quickly, took the time to wash the bowl and spoon and put it away before I picked up my phone again to respond. In the time it had taken me to do all that—and it was probably no longer than five or ten minutes—another message had come in. Or not. It’s no big deal.

           A smile settled on my face as I sank back onto the sofa, my phone clutched in my hands. I had a sudden flash of high school and the nerves I would feel when talking to a cute boy. Kenny was cute, and I had no shame in thinking it. He was cute and, from what I knew of him so far, incredibly sweet and funny.

           Who am I to fight destiny? I typed back, feeling my pulse begin to skip. Grinning like a fool, I hugged the phone to my chest and curled back up to finish my show.

           Another ping pulled me out of my reverie. You name the day and time. I’ll even bring more coffee.

           My fingers moved faster than my brain. By the time I made sense of what I’d written, it was too late.

           It’s a date.

Tags:

@mox-made-me-do-it​

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

Chapter Twelve:

The One When Olaf Kidnaps Some Orphans

“I’m impressed you know how to pick a lock,” Isadora commented when the children returned to the Orphan Shack from the library.

“You’d be surprised how often it comes in handy,” Violet comments.

“Violet’s right,” Klaus agreed. “Sunny’s used her teeth a few times to lock pick things like Olaf’s suitcase,”

“That is so cool!” Violet said as Sunny nodded her head.

Now with all of my research in the Snicket and Baudelaire cases, I have investigated many instances where someone had been in disguise. If you’ve ever dressed up for Halloween or attended a masquerade ball, you’d know that there is a certain...thrill...to wear a disguise. A thrill that’s half excitement and half danger. I once researched all about a famed masked ball hosted by the Duchess of Winnipeg, in a remotely located headquarters of a secret organization. And if my research stands true, it was probably one of the most exciting and dangerous nights of Lemony Snicket’s life. As my associate and I were told, he was disguised as a bullfighter and he had slipped into the party while being pursued by the palace guards, who were disguised as scorpions. He had found his way to the bar where he and his older brother, who was also disguised as a cow. Several guests of the ball had said that once they had entered the Grand Ballroom, they felt as if their true selves had disappeared, so I can guess that that is how Lemony had felt once he entered the ballroom. He was wearing clothes he had never worn before, a scarlet cape made of silk and a vest embroidered with gold thread and a skinny black mask, and I can bet it made him feel like a different person. I was told that then he dared approached a woman he had been forbidden to approach for the rest of his life. The witnesses remember that the woman was alone on the veranda, which I was told is a fancy term for a porch made of polished gray marble and costumed as a dragonfly, with a glittering green mask and enormous silvery wings. As his pursuers scurried around that party, trying to guess which guest was me, he slipped out to the veranda and gave her the message he’d been trying to give her for several long and lonely years. “Beatrice!” he called out as loud as he could, just as the scorpions had pushed passed his brother and found him. “Count Olaf is…!”

I’m sorry...but the horrid details that follow are too much for me to share at this point in Violet Snicket’s story. I cannot go on. It makes me weep to think of that evening, and of the dark and desperate times that had followed, and in the meantime, I’m sure you are curious what happened to the three siblings and the two friends during this time. So I will go back to reporting on that rather than the sad events of Lemony Snicket’s life.

“This is sort of exciting,” Duncan said, “I know that we’re doing this for serious reasons, but I”m excited anyway,”

Violet was busy tying strings together as her brother shoveled flour into the dishwashing gloves. Sunny was busy at work with the material they stole from the school’s kitchen as Isadora was taping a piece of unused mop head to her forehead to act as Violet’s bangs. Duncan was busy toying with a pair of skates that the children had found outside the locker rooms.

Isadora, once her newly found bangs were on her head, looked up. “It may not be particularly wise, but it’s a thrill to be disguised,” she recited smiling. Violet looked up and smiled back at her. “It’s not a perfect poem,” Isadora admitted. “But it will have to do under the circumstances.”

“This knot is called the Devil’s Tongue,” Violet explained. “It was invented by female Finnish pirates in the 15th century.”

“How do I look?” Isadora asked as Violet finally looked up and began blushing at Isadora who smiled back at her.

“Beautiful,” Violet said smiling. “Not...not that you weren’t before...cause you definitely were,”

“Thank you, Vi,” Isadora said blushing. “You’re...beautiful, too,”

The two girls stared at one another for a moment. Everything felt as though it had disappeared. The shack, their brothers, Violet’s sister, and their troubles. The only thing they could see was each other. The thing that brought the kids back to reality was Sunny biting the egg tongs to make them into glasses for Duncan’s disguise.

Once she was done, she handed them to Duncan. “Here,” she said.

Duncan took the fake glasses from the toddler and put them on his face. He turned to face Klaus. “So...how do I look?”

Klaus looked up at Duncan and couldn’t help but blush at the boy triplet. “D-different,” he said. Duncan smiled back at Klaus. “Not...not that you didn’t look good before. I mean...you do...you did...do look...Sunny, good job on the glasses,” He said trying to change the topic. Duncan gave a small chuckle as Klaus continued to blush.

The three siblings took a step back and regarded the Quagmires carefully. All three felt their hearts in their chests as they worked quickly to get their risky plan put into action. Violet pulled out the fork, a few teaspoons of creamed spinach, and a small potato that she took from the kitchen to work on her invention that will help Sunny create staples. Now they had a few minutes before the Violet and the Baudelaires, or in this case, the Quagmires in disguise and Violet’s invention had to show up for S.O.R.E. Duncan and Isadora handed over their notebooks so the three orphans could study for their comprehensive exams, and switched shoes with The Quagmires’ laps would sound exactly like their friends. Now, with only minutes to spare, the three siblings were nervously looked over the Quagmires’ disguises and realized instantly just how risky their plan was.

Isadora and Duncan Quagmire simply did not look like Violet Snicket and Klaus Baudelaire. Duncan’s eyes were a different color than Klaus’ and Isadora’s hair was shorter than Violet’s, even before tying it up in a ribbon. Being triplets, the Quagmires were closer in height to each other than Klaus and Violet were, being only half-siblings. As Sunny noted to Klaus a few weeks prior, Klaus was going through a growth spurt so right now he was only a few inches taller than his older half-sister. Violet did not have the time or material to make stilts for Duncan to mimic this height difference, so she hoped Count Olaf wouldn’t notice. But it wasn’t entirely really these small physical details that made the disguise so unconvincing. It was a simple fact that Violet, the Baudelaires and the Quagmires were different people. And a hair ribbon, unused piece of mop, a pair of glasses, and some shoes couldn’t turn them into one another any more than a woman disguised as a dragonfly can actually take wing and escape the disaster that awaited her.

“I know we don’t look much like you,” Duncan admitted after the three had been quiet for some time. “But remember, it’s quite dark at the athletic field. The only light is coming from the moon and the luminous circle. We’ll make sure to keep our heads down when we’re running, so our faces won’t give us away.”

“We won’t speak a word to Coach Genghis, so our voices won’t give us away. And we’ll have your hair ribbon, these fake glasses, and shoes, so our accessories won’t give us away,” Isadora explained.

“We don’t have to go through with this plan,” Violet admitted quietly. Somewhat now siding with Klaus. She was severely worried. She was beginning to have her doubts. These are my siblings….My getting involved makes sense...but the Quagmires… She thought to herself.

“Violet’s right,” Klaus said frantically. “You guys can still back out now.”

“Plan B,” Sunny added, which meant, “We can find another way to pass the test and job reappraisal,”

Klaus translated for Sunny.

“My sister and I won’t sit here and let him hurt you...not if there’s a way we can stop him,” Duncan explained.

“Look, I severely appreciate your help with protecting my siblings,” Violet started. “But as the eldest one here, it is my job to protect all of you. We don’t have to try and fool Genghis. My siblings and I can...just run away right now, tonight. I have my father’s wallet...so we have funds. We’ve gotten to be pretty good runners, we’d have a good head start on Genghis.”

“You can come with us,” Klaus added. “We could then call Mr. Poe from a payphone somewhere,”

“Soli,” Sunny added, which meant, “Or attend a different school, under different names,”

“Those plans don’t have a chance of working,” Isadora argued, “From what you’ve told us about Mr. Poe, he’s never very helpful,”

“...you’re right,” Klaus admitted.

“And Count Olaf seems to find you wherever you go, so a different school wouldn’t help, either,” Isadora countered.

“ This is our only chance,” Duncan explained. “If you pass the exams without arousing Genghis’ suspicion, you will be out of danger, and then we can focus our efforts into exposing him for who he is,”

“I suppose you’re right,” Violet admitted. “I just don’t like the idea of your putting your lives in such danger, just to help us,”

“What are friends for?” Duncan and Isadora replied simultaneously.

“We’re not going to sit here and attend some atrocious recital while you run laps to your doom,” Isadora said. “Look, you three were the first people at Prufrock Prep who weren’t mean to us just for being orphans. None of us have any family, so we’ve got to stick together.”

“That’s exactly why I want to protect you guys as well,” Violet explained. “Maybe Klaus was right about you guys getting involved,”

“At least let us go with you to the athletic field,” Klaus pleaded, not liking this plan at all. “We’ll spy on you from the bleachers, and make sure you’re fooling Coach Genghis,”

Duncan shook his head sternly, offering Klaus a smile. “You don’t have time to spy on us,” he said. “You have to make staples out of those metal rods and study for two comprehensive exams,”

Violet slowly nodded her head as she finished tying the string to the Sunny mannequin. She handed the string to Isadora. “Here, use this to pull Sunny along. The string isn’t wide enough to be visible even in the moonlight,” Violet explained.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Duncan said. “I thought we were just going to kick it around the circle,”

Klaus looked at Duncan in surprise. “No, no, no,” he said shocked. “If Coach Genghis thinks you’re kicking your baby sister, he will definitely know something is up.”

Even Sunny looked at Duncan, with a soft glare. He looked down at her and chuckled. “I meant gently .” Sunny continued to give him a soft glare as she pointed her index and middle fingers at her eyes and then pointed them at Duncan. Duncan gave her a small smile as Sunny’s soft glare turned into a small, hopeful smile. She, like her siblings, was very worried about their risky plan.

“Well...we’d better go, Isa,” Duncan said sighing. “Genghis will be waiting. Good luck with studying,”

“Good luck with running laps,” Violet replied.

The children looked one more time at their friends. Klaus and Sunny were reminded of the last time they saw their parents, waving good-bye to them as they left for the beach. Violet was reminded of the last time she saw her father, hugging him tightly confused and begging him to not make her leave him. The three had not known, of course, that this would have been the last moment they would spend with their parents and again and again, each of the orphans had gone back to those days in their lives, wishing that they had said something more than a casual good-bye. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny looked nervously at the two triplets and hoped that this was not such a time, a time when people they cared for would disappear from their lives forever. But what if it were?

“I have this feeling we’re never going to see you again,” Violet admitted as she stared Isadora in the eyes.

“You could go back to your broom closet,” Klaus pleaded, staring at Duncan. “And forgot about this,”

“Forget us,” Sunny pleaded looking at her two friends, stepping forward and hugging one of their legs each.

“Is that what your parents would have done?” Duncan asked Klaus and Sunny.

“Is that what your father would have done?” Isadora asked Violet.

“Our parents are not here, none of them,” Violet explained.

“I bet they taught you the same thing our parents taught us,” Isadora said.

“What?” Sunny asked.

Duncan and Isadora looked first to Violet and then to Klaus and then looked down at little Sunny offering all three of their friends a hopeful, optimistic smile. “What friends are for,” Duncan answered.

“If we never see…” Violet stopped, swallowed, and began again. “If something goes wrong…”

Isadora took Violet’s hands in hers and looked right at her. Duncan did the same to Klaus, both Violet and Klaus could see the serious look in the Quagmires’ wide eyes. “Nothing will go wrong,” Isadora replied firmly. Even though I hate to be the one to inform you that she was wrong at the very moment.

“Nothing will go wrong,” Duncan repeated. “We will see you in the morning,”

Isadora nodded solemnly and the Quagmires turned to leave.

“Duncan, wait!” Klaus called out. Klaus ran to Duncan, as Duncan shifted the fake glasses that Violet and Sunny had invented together, on the rim of his nose. “Duncan...one more thing,” Klaus said as Duncan looked into his eyes.

“Yeah…?”

Klaus opened his mouth to say something but then closed it. Duncan looked at him concerned. “You okay?” the triplet asked his boyfriend.

Klaus nodded although he was anxious about the Quagmires’ insane plan. “If...he speaks...to you directly ...or if he tells you to... behave ...you have to start trembling or he’ll realize...you’re not me…”

Violet face palmed knowing damn well that is not what her brother wanted to say to Duncan. Duncan looked worried at Klaus. “Will you tell me what he did to you?” he asked.

Klaus sighed but gave a small smile. “I promise...I’ll tell you after my test,” he replied.

Duncan nodded as he frowned. “Is that all you wanted to say?”

Klaus bit his lip but nodded his head. Sunny walked over to her brother and hit him in the leg. “Say it…” She instructed.

Klaus looked down at Sunny and then back at Duncan. “If...if something goes wrong...I just...I just wanted to say…” Klaus began.

“Nothing is gonna go wrong, Klaus. I promise,” Duncan interrupted putting a comforting on Klaus’ shoulder.

“Don’t make a promise you may not be able to keep,” he warned.

Duncan puts a loving hand on Klaus’ cheek. “I can and will keep this promise,” Duncan looked as though he wanted to kiss Klaus’ cheek, but he noticed the three girls staring at him so he decided against it. But he did keep his warm hand on Klaus’ cheek for a few more moments.

Klaus nodded. “You’re right...everything is going to be fine,” he repeated half-heartedly.

“Hakuna Matata,” Sunny agreed, although she and her siblings were very anxious about their risky plan. But right now, Sunny and Violet were annoyed that Klaus didn’t tell Duncan what he truly wanted to say. Duncan continued to smile at Klaus as he lifted his other hand to Klaus’ face and the shorter boy gently pulled off Klaus’ glasses and used his uniform shirt to wipe them clean.

“You’re going to need these,” he said smiling.

“Th-thank you,” Klaus replied.

Isadora giggled as Violet smiled at Isadora. “Our brothers are stupid, aren’t they?” Isadora said laughing. Violet smiled and nodded her head. She reached into her pocket and took out a black hair ribbon that she had taken out of her backpack earlier that day. She handed it to Isadora, who felt the black silk between her fingers.

“Here, you’ll need this for your disguise,” Violet said looking worriedly at her.

“Thanks. I’ll make sure I give it back when this is all over and done,” Isadora reassured.

“Ummmm, no...you can...you can keep it,” Violet replied smiling.  “I have plenty. I picked that out specifically for you.”

Isadora blushed rather quickly. “For me…?”

Violet smiled back at the poet. Both girls looked at one another. Isadora began to tie her hair to look more like Violet. “Here...let me help,” Violet said to her as she began to tie Isadora’s hair up. Isadora loved how gentle Violet was as she tied up the younger girl’s hair. “You look wonderful,”

Isadora blushed when Violet continued to stare at her for a moment. Her eyes widened with a quick thought. She pulled her purple backpack from her back and quickly reached into one of the front pockets. She pulled out her father’s spyglass, she pulled it apart, holding two equal pieces in her hand. Isadora pulled out her front half of a spyglass as Klaus reached into his pocket to pull out his back half of a spyglass. Violet handed the front half of her father’s to Klaus, who connected the pieces and handed Isadora the backside of her father’s spyglass.

“Take it...keep it,” Violet assured when Isadora and Duncan looked at her confused.

“But your father’s spyglass,” Isadora said staring at the full spyglass in her hands.

“You guys have your parents half… Klaus and Sunny have their parents half and because I split mine in half...I have my father’s half,” Violet explained. “I know it’s silly and complicated but it seems right,”

“Violet’s right, besides if anything goes wrong…you guys may need a full spyglass,”

Isadora took a deep breath and smiled at her friends. Duncan held open the door to the Orphan Shack. “I don’t think anything will go wrong, We’ll see you three besties before long,” Isadora recited. She stepped closer to Violet and turned her head to kiss Violet on her lips. Violet sighed in shock and then relief. She kissed the poet back. Klaus put his hand over Sunny’s eyes as Sunny smiled as she said her famous line.

“Get a room,” Sunny joked.

The two girls kissed again. Afterward, they both looked awkwardly at each other, blushing knowing that their siblings were snickering. Isadora turned to walk away as she grabbed Duncan’s arm and pulled him and the Sunny mannequin along.

“What was that?” Klaus asked chuckling softly.

Violet who stared in Isadora’s direction, smiled and blushed. “A couplet…”

The three orphans watched them walk toward the athletics field until the triplets were merely two specks, dragging another speck along with them.

“You know, from a distance, in the dim light, they look quite a bit like us,” Violet muttered.

“Abax,” Sunny agreed.

“I hope so,” Klaus murmured. “I hope so,”

“Either way,” Violet said closing the door of the Orphan Shack and turning to her siblings. “We’d better stop thinking about them and get started on our half of this plan. Let’s put our noisy shoes on and get to work,”

“I’m actually excited,” Klaus mentioned. “I can’t imagine how you’re going to make staples, with only a fork, a few teaspoons of creamed spinach, and a small potato. That sounds more like the ingredients for a side dish than a staple-making device,”

“Aloo palak,” Sunny agreed, which meant, “Honestly...if we had some curry and coconut milk it would actually be quite delicious,”

Klaus translated for his sister as both older siblings smiled.

“Not to be rude,” Klaus said. “I hope your inventing skills that you’ve mentioned haven’t been dulled by a lack of sleep,”

Violet rolled her eyes kindly. “I don’t think they have,” Violet informed. “It’s amazing how much energy you can have once you have a plan and some motivation, of course. Besides, my invention also involves one of the crabs in here.” She looked at Klaus and Sunny. “Now, when we all have our shoes on, please follow my instructions,”

The two Baudelaires were quite puzzled at this, but they had this feeling in their bones that when it came to inventing, Violet could be trusted absolutely. From what she’s told him, she had been inventing since she was a little girl and her father considered her to be a mechanical genius and they didn’t know much about her father. Just that Olaf apparently hates him and that he raised one hell of a daughter. So there was no doubt in either of their minds that now, come hell or high water, Violet was going to invent a staple-making device.

The three siblings put on their shoes and, following their elder sister’s orders. As usual, the tiny crabs were lounging around, in the corner, hiding from the children's noisy shoes. Normally, Sunny would be wildly stomping on the floor to direct all of the crabs where she wanted them to go. But this time, however, Violet instructed her siblings to step on the floor in carefully arranged patterns, to herd the grumpiest and biggest-clawed crab into a corner all by itself. Sunny, eventually, successfully did just that.

“Good work, Sunshine!” Violet cried happily. “Keep him in the corner, Sunny, while I ready the potato.”

“What is the potato for?” Klaus asked.

“Fortune?” Sunny asked, which meant, “yeah, how is a potato going to help us from stopping Olaf steal our futures?”

“As we know,” Violet said as Sunny tapped her little feet this way and that to keep the crab in the corner. “These crabs love to get their claws on our toes. I specifically snitched a potato that was toe-shaped. You see how it’s curved in a sort of oval way, and the little bumpy part looks like a toenail?”

“You’re right. The resemblance is remarkable. But what does it have to do with staples?” Klaus asked.

“Well, the metal rods that Nero gave us are very long and need to be cut cleanly into small, staple-sized pieces. So while Sunny keeps the crab in the corner. I’m going to wave the potato at him. He...or she, come to think of it, I don’t know how to tell a boy crab from a girl crab…”

“It’s a boy,” Klaus said. “Trust me,”

Violet and Sunny looked at one another and then to the bookworm, both very confused about how and why he knew that.

“Well...he’ll think it’s a toe,” Violet continued. “And snap at it with his claws. At that instant, I’ll yank the potato away and put a rod in its place. If I do it carefully enough, the crab should do a perfect job of slicing it up.”

“And then what?” Klaus asked.

“First things first,” Violet replied firmly. “Okay, Sunny, keep tapping those noisy shoes. I’m ready with the potato and rod number one,”

“What can I do?” Klaus asked feeling useless.

“You can start studying for the comprehensive exam, of course. You mentioned a near-photographic memory, right?” Violet said. “I couldn’t possibly read all of Isadora’s notes in just one night. While Sunny and I make the staples, you need to read Duncan and Isadora’s notebooks, memorize the measurements from Mrs. Bass’ class and teach me all of Mr. Remora’s stories.

“Roger that,” Klaus said.

And over the next two hours, that’s exactly what the three children did. While Sunny used her noisy shoes to keep the crab in the corner and Violet used the potato as a toe and the crab's claws as clean cutters, Klaus used the Quagmires notebooks to study for the comprehensive exams, and everything worked the way it should.  Sunny tapped her shoes noisily that the crab remained trapped. Violet was so quick with the potato and metal rods that soon they were snipped into staple-sized pieces. And Klaus read Duncan’s measuring notes so carefully that before long he was sure he had memorized the length, width, and depth of just about everything.

“Violet, ask me the measurements of the navy blue scarf,” Klaus said, turning the green notebook over so he couldn’t peak.

Violet yanked the potato away just in time and the crab snipped off another bit of the metal rod. “What are the measurements of the navy blue scarf?”

“Two decimeters long,” Klaus recited. “Nine centimeters wide and four millimeters thick. It’s boring, but it’s correct. Sunny, ask me the measurements of the deodorant soap,”

The crab saw an opportunity to leave the corner, but Sunny was too quick for it. “Soap?” she asked her older brother, tapping her tiny noisy shoes until the crab retreated.

“Eight centimeters by eight centimeters by eight centimeters,” Klaus said promptly. “That one’s easy. You’re doing great, you two. I bet that crab’s going to be almost as tired as we are,”

“No,” Violet explained. “He’s done. Let him go, Sunny. We have all the staple sized pieces we need. I’m glad that part of the staple making process is over, though. It’s very nerve-wracking to tease a crab with your baby sister standing next to it.”

“Now what?” Klaus asked.

“Next you teach me Mr. Remora’s stories,” Violet instructed. “While Sunny and I bend these little bits of metal into the proper shape,”

“How?” Sunny asked confused.

“Watch,” Violet said smiling, exciting to show her siblings the second part to her. Sunny watched as Klaus closed Duncan’s dark green notebook and began paging through Isadora’s black notebook. Violet took the glob of creamed spinach and mixed it with a few pieces of stray hay and dust until it was a sticky, gluey mess. Then she placed this mess on the spiky end of the fork and stuck it to one of the bales of hay so the handle end of the fork hung over the side. She blew on the creamed-spinach-stray-hay-and-dust mixture until it hardened. “I always thought that Prufrock Prep’s creamed spinach was awfully sticky,” Violet explained. “And then I realized it could be used as glue. And now, we have a perfect method of making those tiny strips into staples. See, if I lay a strip across the handle of the fork, a tiny part of the strip hangs off each of the sides. Those are the parts that will go inside the paper when it’s a staple. If I take off my noisy shoes,” she explained as she took off her noisy shoes. “And use the metal ends to tap on the strips, they’ll bend the handle of the fork and turn into staples. See?”

“Brill!” Sunny yelled, which meant, “You’re a genius! But what can I do to help?”

“You can keep your noisy shoes on and guard us,” Violet said. “Klaus, you start summarizing the stories,”

All three orphans listened to Violet’s orders and would act accordingly for the rest of the night. Violet tapped away at the metal strips, and Klaus read out loud from Isadora’s notebooks, and Sunny stomped her noisy shoes in order to guard herself and her sister from the crabs. Soon, the children had a pile of homemade staples on the floor, the details of Mr. Remora’s stories in their brains, and not a single crab bothering them in the shack, and even with the threat of Coach Genghis hovering over them, the evening actually began to feel rather cozy. It reminded Klaus and Sunny of evenings they had spent when their parents were alive, in one of the living rooms of the Baudelaire mansion. This reminded Violet of her favorite evenings when her father was alive, and they were at the park, in their house, or at Briny Beach. Violet would often be tinkering away at some invention as she explained the mechanics to her father. Klaus would often be reading and info-dumping the information he was learning to either one of his parents or his baby sister. Sunny would often be making loud noises irritating Klaus for fun.

Of course, Violet was never tinkering frantically at an invention that would save her life. Klaus was never reading something he found so mundane and boring and Sunny was never making loud noises to scare crabs away from her toes., but nevertheless, the night wore, the orphans felt almost at home in the Orphans Shack. And when the sky began to lighten with the first rays of dawn, the orphans began to feel a certain thrill that was quite different from the thrill of being in disguise.

It was a thrill that I have felt a few times in my life, and it was a thrill that the orphans did not feel very often. But as the morning sun began to shine, the orphans felt the thrill of thinking your plan might work after all, and that perhaps they would eventually be as safe and happy as the evenings they remembered mournfully.

_________________________________________________

Sitting with friends, talking about something important is one of the most powerful and necessary forces in the world. It is the way so many noble organizations begin, with a conversation between associates, or that is what I have been told. People gathered together to fight treachery, as Violet, her siblings, and the Quagmires gathered together at Prufrock, which is the reason that so much wickedness is defeated. My associate told me this. I’d give anything to sit and talk with these three again someday.

The Quagmires nervously reached the athletic field. Duncan adjusted his fake glasses as Isadora made sure that her hair ribbon was visible enough to Genghis. Genghis blew his whistle angrily. “You’re late!” he yelled.

“Sorry, boss,” the Hook-handed man said handing Olaf a coffee.

“Not you,” Olaf said annoyed. “Those brats,”

“Boss, the waiter is long gone,” the bald man explained. “We searched everywhere,”

“Somebody broke him out by smashing the door,” the hook-handed man explained.

“And then they left in a taxi,” the henchperson of indeterminable gender informed.

Duncan and Isadora stood there awkwardly. Far enough from Olaf where he couldn’t see them clearly but close enough to hear him. “Enough!” Olaf barked. “Leave me alone so I can finish my plan.”

Two of his henchpeople walked away muttering something under their breath. The Hook-Handed man looked towards his boss. “Me too?” he asked.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” Olaf whined sitting down depressingly on the bleachers. “Staying up all night in the athletic field waiting for things to go my way. Just like when I was in school. My whole life is going around and around in a circle. Like those things a hamster plays in before you put it in the oven.”

“Ummm,”

“Well, it ends here!” He barked standing up, glaring at who he believed was Violet and her siblings. “All right, orphans! Start going around and around in circles!” He blew his whistle.

Both children looked at one another as they started to run. After running a few laps, making sure to keep their faces down when they passed closer to Genghis. “I know we’re doing this for serious reasons, but...this is really exciting,” Duncan whispered to Isadora.

“I agree,” she whispered back.

They heard Genghis blow his whistle again, causing them to jump. They began to run a bit faster, Isadora looking back at the Sunny mannequin making sure it wasn’t falling over from the increasing speed. Although Isadora could tell that the mannequin wasn’t affected by the Quagmires’ increased speed, she didn’t notice that the string that pulled the mannequin along with them was beginning to fray, nearly ready to snap into two.

____________________________________

“What did Mr. Remora have for dessert last Tuesday?” Klaus asked Violet.

“A pudding,”

“What kind of pudding?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “Butterscotch?”

“Rice,” Klaus corrected.

“Rice pudding. Rice pudding. I have to remember that!” Violet told herself.

“How're the staples coming?” Klaus asked Sunny.

“Good!” she replied as she stomped her foot again.

The children went back to do their assigned tasks, all three starting to feel bettwer about this situation as a whole.

________________________________________________

The Hook-Handed Man sighed. “I had it tough at school. Did I tell you what my nickname was?”

Olaf looked at his henchman confused. “Did you tell me your name?” he asked. His henchman opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Olaf turning his head quickly towards the luminous circle. “Wait…?”

“What?”

“Wait…” he said glaring at the track.

“What?”

“The baby’s pooped out,” he explained pointing at the figure he believed to be Sunny. “She’s stopped running. She’s standing there like a bag of flour.”

“Run, baby, run!” the Hook-Handed Man warned noticing Olaf’s change in tone.

Duncan and Isadora froze in place, turning behind them to realize that the string that Isadora held had indeed frayed so much that it ripped in two. They glanced at where the Sunny mannequin stood, on the other half of the luminous closer. The mannequin was at the closest point to Olaf as it could have been, which was good news to the Quagmires, this meant they were the furthest point from Olaf. “Uh-oh,” Isadora gasped as Duncan’s eyes widened.

“Maybe she needs a good kick to get moving,” Olaf growled standing up.

“Get moving, baby!” his henchperson warned as Olaf proceeded to walk towards ‘Sunny’.

“ Move your ass, you biting brat! ” Olaf yelled as he stood behind the Sunny mannequin.

“What do we do?” Duncan whispered both triplets stood watching Olaf glare down at the fake Sunny.

“Keep running,” Isadora suggested grabbing her brother’s arm at the exact moment that Olaf kicked his foot as hard as he could. A cloud of white flour surrounded him as his foot pierced open the toddler-sized bag of flour.

“ What!?” He roared, his head shooting up, turned directly at the two triplet orphans. The Quagmires could see his shiny, dark eyes even from afar.

Duncan and Isadora took this cue to start running...for their lives.

“Can we make it to the broom closet?” Duncan asked his sister frantically. “Or the Orphan Shack?”

“There’s a better place,” Isadora informed him, panting as she gripped his arm tighter and dragged him along.

“Oh, dear god,” the Hook-Handed Man cried as he watched his boss stomp angrily across the athletic field. He looked down at the mannequin. “Are you okay? Huh? Stay here,” he told the mannequin as he ran after his boss.

Genghis growled as he entered a building in the school. He noticed a library immediately. He growled as he broke into the library with complete and utter ease. He looked around the entrance of the library, straining his eyes as he looked around the room. Looking for orphans that he was currently planning on doing some terrible, terrible things to.

“Boss?” the Hook-Handed Man called out as he reached the library.

Olaf jumped and glared at the henchman. “You scared me,”

“Sorry,”

“I looked for them, but it was dark and creepy,” Olaf admitted. “Stay and guard the library. All smarty-pants kids end up here.”

His henchperson nodded. “Did baldy get the car?” Olaf asked.

“Yeah,” he answered. “You have a little...flour on your face,”

Olaf glared at his henchperson. “ I know...and soon...I will have the blood of orphans on my hands,” He replied darkly wiping his face egregiously.

From the other side of the library, Isadora and Duncan huddled together. Isadora held the spyglass in her hand, ready to use it if she needed to.

“We have to warn them,” Duncan whispered.

“We can’t go anywhere with him guarding the only exit,”  Isadora whispered back. “The Baudelaires can pass the test,”

Duncan nodded his head but he wasn’t looking at his sister. Instead, a large black book had caught his eye. “Isa?” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

He pointed towards the book as a smile formed on his face. “The book,” he said.

“Let’s do some studying of our own,” she whispered as she slowly crawled toward the book. The triplets opened the book and the moonlight had given them enough light to read. They opened the large book to a random page. “The spyglass,” Isadora whispered as she quickly read the page, and fiddling with the dials on the spyglass.

“That ...explains the fire,” Duncan whispered as Isadora turned a few dials to turn the light from the spyglass on. They turned the page and gasped at the picture they could see.

“We’ve seen that man,” Isadora whispered.

The Hook-Handed Man noticed a light turn on in the library. “What..the…?” he said slowly and quietly walking in. He slowly walked towards the source of light. But the Quagmires were too mesmerized by the book to notice.

“It’s all connected,” Duncan explained as he turned another page. “What is VFD? Didn’t Violet say something about volunteering,”

The page he turned to, had a picture of a blue and white sugar bowl. “What’s so important about a sugar bowl?” she asked in a whisper.

But her brother wasn’t able to answer her question. In all honesty, that question was never truly answered by anyone that I asked. I’m nearly positive that even Violet and her siblings, to this day, don’t even know the answer to Isadora’s question. When I find them...I will be sure to ask them seeing as though, that is one mystery in this long, tragic story, that I, your slightly faithful narrator, have yet to solve.

As the words escaped Isadora’s mouth, she looked up and the Quagmires both saw the cold, devious face of Count Olaf’s henchman. Both triplets screamed in utter shock as the henchman grabbed the book from their arms, throwing it across the library.

___________________________________________

“What color were the cows on the dairy farm?” Klaus yawned.

“Brown?” Violet guessed, also yawning. “How long was the…” she yawned again. She heard a small snore from where Klaus laid. “Klaus?” she called out.

When he didn’t reply, she looked towards Sunny, who was slowly slumping to the ground. “Well, that’s the last staple,” Violet said to Sunny, stretching her tired muscles. “I think we can safely assume that you won’t lose your job, Sunny.” She said picking up her baby sister.

“Nilikoh,” Sunny replied, which meant, “And you seem to know every detail of Remora’s stories and Klaus seems to know all of Bass’ measurements, so I think it’s safe to assume that you guys won’t be expelled,” Violet slowly nodded her head.

“I’m going to assume that you’re agreeing with me,” Violet said as she laid herself and Sunny down on a hay bale. “Maybe we can take a quick nap,” she muttered as Sunny curled up into Violet’s protective arms. Violet took one glance at her and Klaus, gave a small smile, and closed her eyes. She thought of the Quagmires and hoped that their part of the plan worked as well as theirs.

_____________________________________________________

A little over an hour later, the three siblings woke up to a knock on their door. The person on the other side opened it with a slight push. “The sun has come up! The day has begun! Watching you flunk will be so much fun! Because you’re just orphans and you’re probably dumb! And my name is Carmelita!” Carmelita Spats sang loudly.

Violet opens her eyes as Klaus and Sunny groaned miserably. “Maybe I’m just tired, but I think she may be improving,” Violet said as she and her siblings stood up. Gathering up the staples and the notebooks. The three siblings were worried about the Quagmires. As Carmelita led the three siblings to the auditorium. They looked around worriedly for the Quagmires.

“Have you seen either one of them?” Klaus asked nervously.

“We haven’t seen them...but maybe they went right to bed after running laps all night,” Violet hoped. “I think we can safely assume that their part of the plan went well,”

“That’s true,” Klaus agreed as Sunny nodded her head. “I assume if they’d been caught we would have heard by now,”

Assumptions are a dangerous thing to make, and like all dangerous things to make, if you make even the tiniest mistake you can find yourself in terrible trouble. Making assumptions simply means believing things are a certain way with little or no evidence that shows you are correct, and you can see at once how this can lead to terrible trouble. For instance, one morning you might wake up and make the assumption that your bed was in the same place as it always was, even though you would have no real evidence that this was so. But when you got out of your bed, you might discover that it had floated out of the sea, and now you would be in terrible trouble all because of the incorrect assumption that you’d made. You can see that it is better not to make too many assumptions, particularly in the morning.

“I’d make the same assumption,” Violet said as they reached the auditorium.

“ I’d make the same assumption,” Nero mimicked in his nasty voice. The children were startled to see Nero holding a huge stacks of papers. He was accompanied by Mr. Poe, who looked at the children in disappointment. The children could hear the advanced computer as it scanned every students’ face, they could hear Carmelita starting a chant.

“I hope you’ve been studying all evening,” Nero warned. “Because I told your teachers to make these exams extra challenging, and the pieces of paper that Sunny has to staple are very thick.”

“Mr. Poe...what are you doing here?” Klaus asked.

“Well, I’m giving you a very disappointed look. You’ve been spending too much time with extracurricular activities. I don’t think homeschooling is the answer, but I brought along the necessary paperwork as suggested by Vice Principal Nero and by a gym teacher who I met wandering around creepily outside.” He explained in between coughs.

“That gym teacher is Olaf in disguise,” Klaus tried. “He tracked Sunny and I down and is in the middle of a scheme to steal our fortune and Violet’s,”

Mr. Poe pointed at the advanced computer. “Olaf? But…” he coughed. “What about the computer system Nero told me about it,”

“It didn’t work,” Violet explained.

Mr. Poe watched as it scanned another student and stated the obvious. That the student was not Count Olaf. “It certainly appears to be working,”

“The computer system didn’t recognize Olaf, because he’s in disguise!” Klaus pleaded.

“What sane man would disguise himself four times in a row?” Poe asked.

“Who said Olaf was sane?!” Klaus asked incredulously.

“Believe me, Poe, I’ve seen this sort of thing before,” Nero began.

“You’ve seen three children preyed upon by an insane lunatic?” Violet asked angrily.

Nero rolled his eyes. “Children will say anything to explain getting bad grades and failing at their work as administrative assistants!” he yelled glaring down at Sunny, who flipped him off.

“Administrative assistant?” Mr. Poe asked.

“Sunny’s been working as a secretary,” Klaus commented. “Great job at picking a school for us,”

“Sunny should be in preschool.” Mr. Poe commented before coughing. “This doesn’t seem suitable,’

“No duh!” Sunny yelled, glaring and pointing at Nero in disgust.

“Well, if they flunk these exams, all three of them will be expelled, so it hardly matters now,” Nero explained. “Mr. Remora and Mrs. Bass will take turns asking you questions until one of you gets an answer wrong, and then you flunk. Sunny will begin her reappraisal with stapling these booklets of five papers each, and if your homemade staples don’t work perfectly. Then you’re fired. Well, a musical genius like myself doesn’t have all day to oversee exams. I’ve missed too much practice time as it is.”

“This is not Count Olaf,” the computer claimed as Genghis walked in the auditorium. A smile upon his face.

“Oh! Coach Genghis, come on in,”

“

The children glared at the fake coach. Genghis was walking straight towards them, nonchalantly, whistling an irritating tune to himself. Their hearts sank in their chests as they realized how incorrect one of their assumptions had been. It was not the assumption that Sunny would not lose her job, although, that assumption, too, would turn out to be incorrect. And it was not their assumption that Violet and Klaus would not be expelled, although that, too, was wrong as well. It was the assumption that the Quagmire triplets and their part of the plan going well. As Coach Genghis walked closer and closer, Violet and her siblings saw that he was holding Violet’s black hair ribbon in one of his scraggly hands, and the fake pair of glasses in his other. And with every step of his expensive running shoes, the coach raised a small white cloud, which the children realized must be flour from the Sunny mannequin. But more than a ribbon, fake glasses, or the small clouds of flour was the look in Genghis’ shiny evil eyes. As Coach Genghis reached the children, his eyes were shining bright with triumph, as if he had finally won a game that he had been playing for a long, long time, and the three siblings realized that the assumption about the Quagmire triplets had been very, very wrong indeed.

“ Where are they?!” Violet yelled as Coach Genghis stopped in front of her and her siblings. “ What have you done to them?!”

Genghis' eyes were shining as bright as they could, but his voice was calm and pleasant. “Here they are,” he said handing Violet the black ribbon and handing Klaus the fake glasses. “I thought you’d be worried about them, so I brought them over first thing in the morning,”

“ We don’t mean these them!” Klaus yelled. “ We mean them them!”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” He replied. “Now are you three ready for the worst morning of your lives?”

“ Quaggies!” Sunny shrieked, which meant, “Tell us where the Quagmires are, you rat bastard!”

“You see,” Genghis explained. “The orphans ran laps all night as part of my S.O.R.E program, but they had to dash off in the morning to take these exams. In their hurry, Violet dropped her ribbon and Klaus dropped his glasses…”

“ You know very well that is not what happened!” Violet yelled at the Coach. Although the chanting of the students’ continued to roar louder than the conversation they were having.

“ Where are the Quagmires!?” Klaus cried. “ What have you done to our friends!”

“Stop talking nonsense, orphans,” Nero yelled. “We have an exam to take! Let’s begin!”

Nero and Poe walked away to their seats. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny all glared daggers at the Coach.

“ Where are they?” Violet asked coldly.

“Who?” Genghis asked pretending he had no idea what she was talking about.

“ The Quagmires!” Klaus replied back.

“Oh, the twins?”

“ Triplets!” Sunny corrected.

Genghis gave them a devious smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Genghis replied. “Now let’s go, orphans, I want to watch you three get expelled.”

“We don’t give a fuck about getting expelled,” Violet hissed. “We care about our friends!”

“Well, the Quaggies had to be punished for their part in your little...scheme,” Genghis whispered deviously. “So I walked them over to the cafeteria and put two workers in charge of them. They’ll be whisking eggs all day long, I hear.”

Klaus looked at his sisters confused, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He stared back at the cruel man. “That’s it? That’s all they’re doing?” He asked suspiciously. “Whisking...eggs?”

“That’s what I said,” Genghis replied and leaned so close to the three children that all they could see were his shiny eyes and the crooked curve of his wicked smile. “Those two Quagmire twins will whisk and whisk until they are...simply whisked away,”

“You’re a liar,” Violet said glaring at him.

Genghis smiled a twisted smile. “That’s an assumption,” he muttered as he walked onto the stage to address the crowd of students. He listened for a moment as the students chanted ‘Remember, you will die!’. “This school...has a new kind of spirit energy. A sense of unity and joy which you usually cannot find unless you are at a birthday party or a public hanging. I think the flunking of Miss Snicket and the Baudelaire orphans out of this school is bringing out the best of all of us. And so, without further ado…”

“A violin cadenza in the style of the Human League!” Nero announced as he began to play a few sour notes on his violin.

“Dear God…” Genghis whispered in annoyance. “Whoa...no no...let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Hey Gomorrah! Sass! Test them! ”

“It’s Mrs. Bass and my name is Remora,” Mr. Remora corrected.

“We’ll find out who’s full of remora soon enough. Test them!” he began chanting.

Mr. Remora cleared his throat and addressed Violet. “Violet, in the story about my pet donkey, how many miles did the donkey run?”

“Six,” Violet answered confidently.

Nero began laughing. “ Six.” He mocked.

“Yes...that’s...correct,” Remora explained confused

“Rats!” Genghis muttered as he tapped a bell.

“Klaus,” Mrs. Bass addressed the orphan boy. “How long was the book with a yellow cover?”

“N-nineteen centimeters,” Klaus stuttered nervously.

“ Nineteen centimeters,” Nero mocked. Laughing.

“Correct.” Mrs. Bass responded confused.

Genghis rolled his eyes as he hit the bell.

Nero stepped onto the stage staring at Sunny. “Sunny Baudelaire, I need you to organize these file cards of students who owe me candy. But not by name! No! But by the color of candy I want!” he demanded as he threw a pile of file cards on to a small desk that Sunny sat comfortably at. She looked to the file cards and then at her siblings. She picked up the cards and began to shuffle them like her father had taught her to do some time before his untimely death. Nero continued to laugh but his laugh soon became silence as Sunny effortlessly and flawlessly sorted the file cards into piles separated by the color of candy that Nero wanted.

“Oh, that’s…” Nero said watching Sunny. Even her siblings watched her in awe. “That’s...very impressive, Miss Baudelaire. I must admit.”

Genghis growled under his breath as he hit the bell again.

“In my story about the mushrooms, what was the name of the chef?”

“Maurice,”

“Maurice,”

“Correct.”

“How long was chicken breast number seven?”

“F-fourteen centimeters and fi-five millimeters,”

“ Fourteen centimeters and five millimeters. ”

“Correct.”

Mr. Remora and Mrs. Bass looked at each other with confused expressions. But they continued to question the two elder orphans as Nero kept demanding Sunny to do several menial tasks. But with every correct answer that Violet or Klaus would give and with every completed task that Sunny performed, Genghis would angrily hit a bell, glaring at the children with his shiny eyes as he waited in anticipation to see if he was winning all five of his orphan prey this morning. The comprehensive exams went on and on, sometime during the middle of it, Sunny had noticed that the librarian, Miss Caliban, had walked out after seemingly being annoyed by the rambling of an idiotic coughing banker. Sunny and her siblings wished they could be excused from the remainder of the exams because the exams were so boring that the three siblings worried that they would doze off in the middle of them and fail. But they dared not doze off. One wrong answer and one incomplete task would expel them from Prufrock and they would be in Genghis’ clutches. Violet tried her best to remember each detail Klaus had taught her, Klaus tried to remember each measurement he had taught himself and Sunny stapled like mad. Finally, Mr. Remora stopped and addressed the crowd.

_____________________________________________

As Miss Caliban exited the auditorium, she made her way to her library. “In a world too often governed by corruption and arrogance, it can be difficult to stay true to one’s philosophical and literary principles,” she said to herself as she reached the door of her library. She looked inside and saw a mess of books all over the floor, a true sign of foul play. Her eyes fixated on a book that laid on the ground. She walked over to it and scanned its title in complete silence as she wondered what in the world had happened in her library. It had not been like this when she left last night and she had a sick feeling in her stomach. Her eyes went wide as she glanced at the book The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations. The title read.

She scanned her library desperately wondering if the children had been in here last night and found the book. But if they had...then where were the children? She knew where Violet Snicket and the two Baudelaires were...she had just seen them on stage taking their exams. But where was the Quagmires?

It can sometimes be overwhelming to witness, or even research, a series of unfortunate events that rumble through one’s life like a mysterious automobile with its engine running. Which is why some people need to excuse themselves from time to time to a place where the world is quiet. Like a crystal ball ready for anyone who has an important question. I urge you to do the same...look away from this austere academy before it is too late. This episode in the lives of Violet Snicket and her siblings is nearly over, but there is still time for it to get much, much worse.

And as Olivia Caliban realized that sometimes when you are trying to find a quiet place to think, you stumble upon a loud mystery that will consume your entire life until it’s over.

_______________________________________________

“We’ve come to the end of the comprehensive exams and the professional reappraisal for Violet Snicket, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire. Violet Snicket is a fine student and passes language arts with high marks even if she’d been sleeping in class lately,”

Violet smiled triumphantly.

“I’ve never encountered anyone more fluent in the metric system than Klaus Baudelaire. He gets an A-plus, two centimeters by one centimeter,”

Klaus smiled triumphantly.

“I hate to admit it,” Nero began. “But Sunny Baudelaire is a fantastic administrative assistant.” Sunny finished typing something on her little typewriter and handed it to Nero. “Look, she even edited my resume, highlighting my musicianship without drawing attention to the fact I never graduated middle school!”

Sunny smiled triumphantly. “Magic,” she remarked, which meant, “I don’t know how I managed to do that...it wasn’t easy,”

“What my sister means is, did we all pass?” Klaus asked desperately. The three children resumed glaring at the Coach, who sat in a chair looking pretty pissed off.

“No,” Carmelita commented. “You’re not adorable enough to pass. You flunked! You flunked!” she chanted.

Violet and Klaus looked at one another annoyed as the crowd of students began to chant alongside Carmelita.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Nero said shushing the crowd. “I share your discomfort with orphans, Carmelita. But...I have to admit that Miss Snicket and the Baudelaires pass with flying colors. Mr. Poe, I will allow these three to stay the remaining trimester, and you may leave after giving me the candy.”

“Thank you, Vice-Principal Nero,” Poe remarked, coughing. “Baudelaires. Lilac…”

“Violet…” Violet corrected.

“The, uh, disappointment that I expressed earlier has been lifted by the fact that you clearly memorized anecdotes and measurements to the best of your abilities. And sunny, I may consult with you later about the bank’s latest quarterly report, which could use a more dynamic layout,”

“Fuck off,” Sunny replied.

“Not yet...you won’t!” Genghis said slowly standing up, turning towards the children. “This is a comprehensive exam, isn’t it? Well, I am their gym teacher, and I haven’t given my test. According to the Prufrock Preparatory Handbook, gym teacher evaluations are worth a full fifty-one percent of their grade.”

“That’s actually correct,” Nero remarked as Klaus gave Violet an uneasy glance. “But how did you know?”

“Let me...tell you a story,” He said smirking. “A long time ago, a handsome young man was expelled from this very school, on this very stage, for that very reason. So, one last challenge, orphans. And this one will determine your entire future.”

“We’d be more than happy to run laps,” Violet replied bitterly.

“You’ll see that we are in extremely good shape,” Klaus noted just as bitterly as his elder sister.

Genghis smirked. “I think there’s a better way to test your physical princess,”

“I think you mean ‘prowess’,” Klaus corrected rolling his tired eyes.

“I think I mean ‘arms’,” Genghis hissed back. The two elder orphans glanced at each other worriedly. “Arm wrestling. No holds barred. Against an opponent who is as heavy and as slow as a bag of flour… Sunny Baudelaire.”

Everyone gasped as Sunny looked at Genghis like he was crazy.

“Nerds! Arm wrestling furniture!” Genghis yelled.

“Five bucks on Genghis!” Nero shouted.

“This isn’t fair!” Violet protested.

“You’re a full-grown adult. Sunny’s barely a toddler.” Klaus pointed out.

“That hardly seems sporting,” Mr. Poe commented before coughing into his handkerchief again.

“Fine,” Genghis said rolling his eyes. He focused his attention to Klaus, who was slowly starting to shake. “I’ll take on the bookworm,”

“That seems fair,” Nero commented.

Violet looked from her brother to the disguised villain. Not that she doubted Klaus could take Genghis in an arm-wrestling contest, although if she did doubt him, she wouldn’t be wrong. She could see that Genghis was singling him out because Klaus was the easiest one of the two older orphans to fight against. Violet could already see that Klaus was slightly shaking at the mere prospect of Olaf touching him. She knew Klaus was not in the state of mind to do this alone and she wasn’t one hundred percent sure she could do this on her own either. She couldn’t chance this. Her siblings’ lives were on the line.

She stepped forward. “You can take the both of us,” she explained.

“Uh, I’ll pass,” Genghis said laughing.

“What’s wrong, Coach Genghis?” Violet asked.  “Afraid you’re not strong enough?”

“A real gym teacher could do it,” Klaus added, realizing almost immediately what Violet was doing.

“Yes, Coach Genghis, surely you’re stronger than two simpering orphans,” Nero said.

“Of course, I am!” He yelled as he sat down. Violet and Klaus looked at one another, both feeling very uneasy. They sat next to each other on the small bench that was placed on the opposite side of the table. Olaf slammed his elbow on the table, glaring at both children. Klaus nervously placed his hand into Olaf’s as he tried to stop himself from shaking.

“I’m right here,” Violet whispered before placing her hand around Klaus’ to get a grip on Olaf’s. “He can’t hurt you, I won’t let him.”

Klaus slowly nodded in response as Olaf smirked at the two children. Sunny noticed that Olaf was now completely focused on her siblings. She remembered something that Duncan Quagmire had suggested when Olaf first showed up at Prufrock. She looked in the directions of his shoes. She shrugged her shoulders as she slowly made way towards Olaf’s expensive running shoes, glancing up at him every so often as she crawled, making sure his focus stayed solely on Violet and Klaus.

“This reminds me of a story,” Genghis explained as he pushed both children’s arms a bit, worrying them. Klaus and Violet strengthened their hold on Olaf’s hand as they tried to keep him from slamming their hands down. “Some time ago, two orphans came to me needing my help.” His voice was strained as he was using as much strength as he could muster to beat a fourteen-year-old girl and twelve-year-old boy at arm wrestling. “‘Coach Genghis’ they said to me, ‘We’re complete failures. We have an enormous fortune, and we're keeping it all to ourselves out of our own selfishness…’”

Violet and Klaus glared at him as they tried to counter all of Genghis’ advances. Genghis was getting very irritated that the two children were holding their own in this arm-wrestling competition. Violet stared at Olaf with a face of pure, unbridled hatred as Klaus, who still had worry written all over his face, glared at the villain as well. He hated the fact that he was touching Olaf’s disgusting hand but he trusted Violet...he felt safe around his older sister. So as bad as it was, the fact that she was right there with him, helping him face his worst nightmare helped him stay planted in reality. “Then one day…” Genghis continued, his voice still strained as he pushed against the combined strength of Violet and Klaus. “They met this third orphan...this pretty orphan…” he said, making sure to whisper the word ‘pretty’ so only Violet and Klaus could hear. “What...a pity, this newest orphan...just like her father, in way over her head.” He hissed, although his voice was still strained, it was full of venom. A venom he hoped would distract Violet to where he could win this.

Violet’s eyes glared at him with a brighter intensity as she and Klaus felt Genghis exerting more strength. “ How do we learn to share?’ all three had asked me. How do we learn to give up in the face of all-powerful, very good-looking physical strength?’ And...do...you...know...what...I...told...them?!” Genghis practically yelled, straining his voice and his even his face as he spoke. He pushed the children’s arms closer to the table with each passing word, although it wasn’t an easy thing to do.

Sunny managed to reach underneath the table undetected by Olaf and even her siblings. She held her hands up, forming two L’s with her fingers to figure out which shoe she needed to undo. Violet and Klaus’ faces were strained with worry and exhaustion. All that was going through their minds was that Olaf might actually win.

Snickets take care of their own. Violet remembered as Klaus felt her grip tightened. “ You can never give up!” She protested as she pushed Olaf’s arm back.

All three arm wrestlers grunted in frustration. “You can never... give up...if you find yourself in terrible circumstances!” Klaus protested, his voice strained from exhaustion.

Olaf was too busy to notice the tiny hands unlacing one of his shoes.

“You...must...keep...struggling,” Klaus cried, his face turning red from all the strength he’s been exerting.

“You must struggle until you find a safe place to live!” Violet explained as Olaf was beginning to worry. The children seemed to be gaining the upper hand on him.

“You must struggle until you find noble and reliable friends!” Klaus cried.

Olaf using his free arm, grabbed the side of the table to hold his balance, as Sunny completely removed the shoelaces from his left shoe.

“You must struggle…” Violet said glaring at Olaf.

“And struggle,” Klaus added, glaring daggers at Olaf.

“Until the world can see who you really are!” Violet yelled. Just as Violet finished her sentence, to everyone’s surprise, Sunny jumped up as high as she could, placed both her tiny hands on the hands of her siblings and worst enemy and effectively pulled their arms, causing Genghis to fall out of his chair and for his unsecured left shoe to fly into the air and land in front of Nero.

Genghis looked a mixture of shocked and pissed.

Violet and Klaus looked at one another and smiled. They then both looked at Sunny, who took a bow.

“I love you, Sunny!” Violet squealed happily.

“Good job, Sunshine!” Klaus said patting his sister on her back.

“That kid came out of nowhere!” Genghis yelled angrily. “That’s cheating!”

“Holy Beethoven,” Nero said as he seemed to be looking at Olaf’s tattooed ankle. “I see what you orphans mean,”

“Finally,” Violet cried.

“What you mean is that I should keep on struggling, and then perhaps I’ll be invited to join a legitimate orchestra,” Nero replied.

“What?” Klaus asked incredulously. “That’s not what we mean at all!”

Nero picked up the running shoe and handed it back to Olaf. “Your shoe, sir,”

“Look at the tattoo of an eye on his ankle!” Klaus shouted.

“Egad! I know that ankle anywhere!” Mr. Poe shouted form the crowd, before coughing.

Violet looked hopeful at Mr. Poe. Everything is going to be okay. He’s going to be arrested. She foolishly thought as Mr. Poe stood up.

Olaf quickly put his shoe back on. “You flatter me, kind sir!”

“Don’t call me ‘kind sir’, kind sir. You are Count Olaf and that tattoo proves it. It is too late to cover it up with a probably overpriced running shoe.” Mr. Poe said.

“I am not covering up anything,” Genghis said smirking at Violet, Klaus, and Sunny. “I need to wear these,”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Why would a notorious criminal need running shoes?” Mr. Poe asked.

Klaus’ eyes widened as Olaf gave each of the children one last smirk. He could feel the Quagmires notebooks in his pockets. He was afraid that the notebooks might be the only sign of the Quagmire he would ever see again. His heart dropped as Olaf faced the crowd.  “ For running, of course,” he hissed as he ran out of the auditorium.

Violet looked at Mr. Poe in pure shock. “ Go after him! Mr. Poe!” she shrieked desperately. Mr. Poe just stood there.

The orphans were startled for a moment, not only because he had started running so suddenly but because it seemed to the three siblings that Olaf had given up too easily. This worried them. After his long, elaborate plan of disguising himself as a gym teacher, forcing them to run laps, getting them expelled, he was suddenly racing out of the auditorium without even glancing back at the children who had begun to chase him.

“Sunny,” Klaus called out as he lifted up his sister. He didn’t know how fast he could run while carrying Sunny but he didn’t trust leaving her alone... “Come on, Vi,” he said to his older sister, who just stood there in shock as to why no one was helping the children and trying to capture Olaf. Violet and Klaus began to run as fast as they could, Klaus holding Sunny as tight to him as he could to make the bumpy ride a little better for her.

They quickly passed the bald man and the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender. “Wow, they’re fast!” the bald man exclaimed.

“Well...they have been running lap for two weeks,” the henchperson replied.

Just as Olaf was passing the Orphan Shack, Violet grabbed on to a loose piece of cloth from the man’s turban. She gripped it around her hand and began to unravel the man’s disguise as Olaf began to spin around in an exaggerated motion. When the turban was completely unraveled and the other end of the turban wasn’t holding on to anything, Violet fell flat on her ass as Olaf backed into the tin shack, causing it to fall over.

He got back up faster than Violet had and he continued to run. “ Don’t think I’ve given up on you, orphans!” He called back as he sprinted. “But in the meantime...I have two little prisoners with a very nice fortune of their own!”

All three of the siblings felt their hearts shift in their chests. Olaf began laughing like a lunatic as he pointed a skinny, bony finger across the lawn. The children gasped. At the far end of Prufrock Prep, they saw a long, black car with dark smoke billowing out of its exhaust pipes. But the three siblings were not gasping at air pollution. The two masked cafeteria workers were walking towards the car, but they had taken off their metal masks at last, and the three could see that their faces were covered in white make-up. But this was not what made the children’s hearts sink into their stomachs. Although it was a surprising turn of events. What they were gasping at was what each of the women was dragging toward the car. Each powder-faced woman was dragging one of the Quagmire triplets, who were struggling desperately to getaway.

“Put them in the backseat!” Genghis called out. “Hooky, be ready to drive!”

“NO!” Klaus yelled desperately as he put Sunny down on the ground and began to run towards Olaf’s car. Violet and Sunny followed suit and although the three siblings had endured thirteen nights of S.O.R.E, the three orphans never wanted to run more than they did now.

“After them!” Violet shouted.

The three siblings ran as fast as they could. Calling out pleads and begs to Olaf to leave their friends alone. Violet ran, her hair flying wildly behind her. Klaus ran, not even bothering to care that his gut was telling him this was not a good idea. And Sunny ran as fast as her legs could carry her, her mouth bared ready to use her teeth if needed. If you had been hiding the archway, spying on what was going on, you would have seen what looked like a strange race on the front lawn, with Count Olaf running in front and Violet and her siblings right behind. But if you continued watching, you would have seen an exciting development in the race, which was the three siblings were gaining on Olaf. The villain had much longer legs than the three siblings, but he had spent the last thirteen nights sitting down, blowing a whistle. The children had spent those nights running hundreds of laps around the luminous circle, and so their tiny, strong legs were overcoming Olaf’s height advantage.

I hate to pause at such a suspenseful part of the story, but I feel I must intrude and give you one last warning as we reach the end of this part of this terribly miserable tale. You were probably thinking, as you read that the children were catching up to their enemy. That perhaps this was the time in the lives of Violet Snicket and the two Baudelaire orphans when this dastardly bastard would finally be caught, and that perhaps the children would find some kind guardians and that Violet, Klaus, and Sunny would spend the rest of their lives in relative happiness, possibly creating the printing business that they had discussed with the Quagmires. And maybe they spend the rest of their lives in each other’s companies, happy and free from Olaf. And you are free to believe that this is how the story turns out if you want. The last few events in this chapter of Violet Snicket and her siblings’ lives are incredibly unfortunate and quite terrifying, and so if you would prefer to ignore them entirely you should put this book down now and think of a gentle ending to this horrible story. I have made a solemn promise to write the Snicket and Baudelaire history exactly as it occurred, but you have made no such promise, well, as far as I know, and you do not need to endure the wretched ending of this story, and this is your very last chance to save yourself from the woeful knowledge of what happened next.

Violet was the first to reach Olaf, she stretched out her arm as far as she could, trying to grab his arm to stop him from running. Her fingers graced his arm as she continued to stretch her arm as far as she could. “ Get back here! ” she called out to him as she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. She gripped it tightly and was trying her best to hold him back. He noticed that she had grabbed hold of him and he elbowed her in the chest sending her back to the ground, landing on her ass.

Sunny was the next orphan to reach Olaf because she was the closest to the ground, she was in the perfect position to attack his legs and maybe that would stop him from running. Using all four of her sharp teeth, she dove towards his shoes again, her teeth making contact with the heel of his shoe. It did stop him, but only momentarily. He stopped running as he proceeded to slip his foot from his shoe and began running again. “Drat!” Sunny yelled throwing his shoe at him. Her face scrunched up in disgust because his shoe was rather smelly and tasted utterly disgusting.

Klaus, however, didn’t say anything and he didn’t stop running either. He was putting all of his energy towards running, but he was not running towards the man he feared the most. Klaus was running towards Olaf’s car. The powder-faced women were shoving the Quagmires into the backseat, and he knew this might be his only chance to rescue them.

“Klaus!” Isadora shouted.

“Oh my God, Klaus!” Duncan cried. He reached the car. He grabbed Duncan’s hand desperately. “Help us!”

“We found the book!” Isadora called out.

“We can discuss that in a moment,” Klaus said desperately as he began to drag Duncan out of Olaf’s car. “Hang on!” Without a word, one of the powder-faced women leaned forward and bit Klaus’ hand, forcing him to let go of Duncan. The other powder-face woman leaned across Duncan’s lap and began pulling the car door closed.

“ No! Please!” Klaus begged and grabbed the door handle.

“VFD!” Duncan explained as he tried to push the white face women away from the car door. “Violet was right! It’s all connected to VFD!”

Back and forth, Klaus and Olaf’s henchwoman tugged on the door, forcing it halfway open and halfway shut.

“The notebooks, Klaus,” Isadora called out.

“I have them. Don’t worry,” Klaus cried.

“Klaus!” Duncan screamed. “Listen to me, Klaus! If anything goes wrong…”

“ Nothing will go wrong! I won’t let him take you! ” Klaus cried tears in his eyes. “ I’m sorry...this is all my fault….but I’m going to fix this. I’ll save you! ”

“This isn’t your fault!” Isadora reasoned.

“I’ll have you out in a second!” Klaus promised. Klaus pulled on the car door as hard as he could.

“If anything goes wrong…” Duncan explained. “There’s something you should know. When we were researching the history of Count Olaf…”

“And what we read from the book,” Isadora added.

“We found out something dreadful!” Duncan said.

“We can talk about that later,” Klaus cried, still struggling with the door.

“The notebooks!” Isadora cried. The first white-faced woman put her hand over Isadora’s mouth so she could no longer speak. Isador turned her head roughly and slipped from the woman’s grasp. “The…” the powdery hand covered her mouth again.

“Hang on, Isa!” Klaus called desperately. “Hang on, Duncan…”

“Look in the notebooks!  VFD!” Duncan cried just as a powdery hand covered his mouth.

“What?”

Duncan shook his head vigorously and freed himself from the woman’s hand for just one moment. “Ask Violet….VFD!” he managed to scream again and that was the last thing Klaus heard before Count Olaf, who had been running slower without one of his shoes, had reached his car and with a deafening roar, he grabbed Klaus’ hand and pried it loose from the car door.

“ No! No! Don’t take them! Please! ” Klaus begged.

Olaf merely glared at the boy as he kicked Klaus in the stomach so hard, sending him falling to the ground and rolling in the lawn with a loud thump! The villain towered over Klaus and gave him a sickening smile, then leaned down as close as he could to Klaus. “ Look’s like I’ve won! ” he hissed as grabbed Klaus’ ankles and began dragging him towards his car in hopes of kidnapping him along with the Quagmires.

“ NO! ” Klaus screamed, but Olaf merely smiled. Klaus began furiously kicking and screaming. Turning his head every which way. “ Violet!”  

Violet and Sunny looked at one another worriedly. Violet quickly looked from Klaus, who was desperately trying to dig his nails into the lawn to grab on to something as Olaf struggled to drag him into the car. “Hooky! Get ready to drive!” Olaf yelled.

“Stay here, Sunshine,” Violet warned her little sister as she grabs Klaus’ hands.

“ Violet! Please! ” Klaus pleaded as he gripped Violet’s hands tighter. “ Don’t let him take me...please...you can’t let him take me!”

“He won’t!” Violet cried as she gripped her brother’s hands desperately. Pulling with all her might. “ He’s not taking you or the Quagmires! I promise! ”

Violet was exhausted but she continued to pull at her brother’s arms. Sunny watched with a frown on her face. She loved Violet and understood that Violet was her sister but she felt a ping of jealousy when Klaus had called our for Violet to save him instead of her. After everything she had done back in Paltryville, she still hadn’t proved to him that she could hold her own? Sunny just couldn’t fathom why Klaus was still acting as though she couldn’t hold her own.

“ Violet! ” Klaus cried as he felt his sweaty, shaky hands were beginning to slip from Violet’s grasp.

“ No…! ” Violet cried desperately.

Olaf began laughing. “You idiots better be ready to floor it!” He called to his henchfolk. “We’re going to be rich!”

Olaf pulled Klaus’ legs harder trying to get Violet to let go. But even though her arms were tried from the arm wrestling match and her lack of sleep, Violet was still holding Klaus’ hands as tight as she could. She refused to allow Olaf to take her siblings or her friends away. She glanced at the car, watching as the Quagmires continued to struggle with Olaf’s henchpeople.

Sunny watched in horror as Olaf seemed to be winning this little tug of war that he and Violet were playing. She looked at her brother and frowned. She couldn’t let Olaf take Klaus. She didn’t know what happened to him back when they had lived with Olaf. And the unknown was the scariest part for Sunny.

Never again! Sunny told herself as she quickly ran up to Olaf. Violet noticed what Sunny was doing but she wasn’t able to stop her. All she could do was yell a desperate, “ Sunny! No!”

As Violet spoke, Sunny bit down as hard as she could on Olaf’s hands that held her brother’s ankles. “ Let go! ” Sunny yelled. “ Of our brother!” It was the longest sentence that Klaus had ever heard from his baby sister. The vile man screamed in pure agony as he released Klaus’ ankles quickly. The hand Sunny bit began to bleed. When he had let go of Klaus, the sudden absence of force caused Violet to fall back on to her butt for the third time. Klaus landed with a slight thud, dropping the Quagmires’ notebooks in the grass near Sunny. Sunny quickly gathered them, stuffing them into her uniformed pockets before Olaf could notice.

“ You blasted demon…” Olaf screeched at Sunny as his face lit up from an idea coming to him. Sunny’s eyes got wide when she realized why he was making that face. Before any of the orphans could react, Olaf quickly scooped up Sunny by the collar of her uniform and literally threw her harshly into the back of his car. She landed with a thud on the laps of the two Quagmire triplets. Her head resting on Duncan’s lap and her body landing on Isadora’s lap.

“ Klaus!” Sunny cried desperately. “Violet!”

Olaf began to laugh maniacally as he pushed Duncan further into the car, to make room for himself in the back seat.

He put an arm around Duncan as he slammed the car door. He rolled down the window as his henchperson started the car.

“ NO!” Violet and Klaus yelled simultaneously as they both stood up.

“ Violet! ” Isadora screamed.

“ Klaus!” Duncan cried.

“ Save us!” Sunny pleaded.

“ Isadora! Duncan!” Violet yelled, tears forming in her eyes.

“ Sunny!” Klaus cried, tears already pouring down his face.

Klaus looked at Violet desperately. “What...what do we do?” He asked, his voice trembling as Olaf’s henchmen began to drive away.

Violet growled. “Keep running!”  

Klaus didn’t need to be told twice. Both Violet Snicket and Klaus Baudelaire ran as fast as they could. They ran for their lives.

“VFD!” one Quagmire screamed.

Sunny crawled from the Quagmires lap to Olaf’s trying to peer out of the window he rolled down. She waved her tiny hand outside of his window as if trying to reach for one of her siblings. “ Klaus! Violet!”

“ Sunny!” they screamed in unison. “ Quagmires!”

Olaf put an arm around Sunny, who tried to bite him. “Remind me that we need a muzzle for this one, ” he told his henchpeople pointing at Sunny.

As the Quagmires continued to yell VFD! As loud as they could, Olaf continued to laugh as his henchperson began to drive over the speed limit. He peered his head out the window so he can watch and laugh at the two orphans foolishly chasing his car.

He grabbed Sunny by her chin and forced her face partially out of the car. “ You’ve failed your parents, you little bookworm!” He yelled to Klaus. Klaus’ heart shattered when he saw the look of fear in Sunny’s eyes. Even from far away, he knew his baby sister was scared out of her mind. “ And Miss Snicket...you think that you’re all that...but you’re not even close! ” He yelled laughing maniacally. “You couldn’t stop me, unlike your pitiful father!”

Violet and Klaus continued to run. Both shouting “Give them back!”

“Two fortunes down and one to go!” He called out to the two running orphans. “And don’t worry...my sweet...sweet...little Snicket...I’ll be back for you and your precious orphan skin!”

And with that, he rolled up his window with a final wave to Klaus and Violet.

Olaf rolled his eyes as the Quagmires and Sunny continued screaming for help. The Quagmires had managed to push passed the white-faced women and began to pound on the rear window of the car. Violet and Klaus couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they could tell that Duncan and Isadora’s face was desperate and terrified. “Would someone shut these kids up?”

The Hook-Handed Man tried to shush the three kidnapped victims as he drove passed the archway of Prufrock Prep.

“ Duncan!” Klaus cried.

“ Isadora!” Violet cried

Both siblings stopped running. “ Sunny!” they both cried in unison.

Violet looked to the ground in anger as Olaf’s car drove out of sight.

Klaus fell to his knees on the ground. Breaking down into sobs. “ Take me…” he whispered.

Violet looked at Klaus as the young boy sobbed. “ She’s just a toddler...take me,”

Violet walked over to Klaus and put a loving hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, “I should have let him take me,” he whispered softly.

Both siblings had tears in their eyes. Violet fell to her knees and sobbed alongside her brother. “We have to go after them!” Violet screamed angrily. Her face streaked with tears. She turned to face her brother. “We have to go after them!”

But Klaus sank further to the ground, weeping in frustration, exhaustion, and depression. Klaus knew by experience that Count Olaf would soon be long gone. This time, Olaf had not merely escaped though, but this time he escaped with Klaus’ boyfriend, his close friend, and his baby sister. Violet and Klaus wept because they both feared they would never see Sunny or the Quagmires again. They were wrong about this...but they had no way of knowing they were wrong, and just imagining what Olaf might do to the Quagmires and Sunny was enough to make them both weep even harder. Violet wept, thinking of how kind the Quagmires had been to her and her siblings and how accepting Sunny had been when she found out that Violet was her older sister. Klaus wept, thinking of how the Quagmires risked their lives to help him and his sisters and how Olaf was right when he said that Klaus had failed his parents. He was not keeping his promise to them at all, Sunny was now kidnapped and in Count Olaf’s clutches. And they both wept as they thought of the information that the Quagmires had discovered that they might never get to share with them.

“What did Duncan and Isadora shout to you...from the car?” Violet asked.

“V.F.D,” He replied.

Violet’s face grew dark with anger as Klaus spoke the name of the cult that her father was working for. Violet looked at Klaus and then at the direction that Olaf had sped away. She needs to find out everything she could about VFD and the dreadful secrets it is hiding. Perhaps it could help her rescue Sunny and the Quagmires. Perhaps it can bring Olaf to justice. And perhaps it could somehow make clear the mysterious and deadly way that she and her siblings' lives had become so unfortunate.

Klaus grabbed onto Violet and sobbed. Violet held her brother close. If you have lost a friend...or even a sibling, you know it makes your world feel incomplete, like a puzzle with a piece missing, or one half of a broken spyglass. I’m sorry to tell you that this story does not end with the rescue of two brave and noble triplets and a brave and noble toddler. This story ends the way all stories end. With the motto of Prufrock Preparatory School.

That motto is ‘Memento Mori’ and it means…

Remember, you will die.

[gellavonhamster]

the eye of the storm, or a still life with pineapples

teen and up audiences (?) || Bertrand Baudelaire/Beatrice Baudelaire/Lemony Snicket + guest starring other ships and characters || pre-canon, canon divergence

ao3 link || originally posted in Russian

As famously said by a famous cartoonist and later by an even more famous musician and before them, probably, by many other famous and not so famous people, life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans. For example, less than half a year ago I was certain that in a little while, I would marry the woman I love, and dance with her at our wedding, which would be held in a place called the Vineyard of Fragrant Grapes. A few months passed, and here I was dancing at the wedding indeed, but not as a groom and not with the woman I dreamed to marry. However, she was also attending the party, and radiating beauty in her refined wedding dress just like in my erstwhile dreams. It was her wedding – her and another man’s, and I didn’t doubt that many guests were surprised I was invited and, on top of that, entrusted with reciting one of the wedding blessings. Then again, there weren’t that many guests: only the trusted long-time associates, most of whom both the newlyweds and I had the honour to consider our friends. Some of them were familiar with the events which had resulted in my bride marrying someone else; as to the rest of them, I hoped they were too well-mannered to whisper behind my back. On the other hand, if they decided to spread some gossip, I would not have minded it much. In these latter days, all kinds of things were being whispered about me behind my back, said out loud, and printed in the newspapers. If I had a chance to choose between the discussions of my love life and the accusations of crimes I had nothing to do with, I would have chosen the former without a moment’s hesitation. Unfortunately, in practice, there were two options: either both the former and the latter or just the latter, and I had no choice anyway.             

Even the celebration venue was not what I had expected. The Vineyard of Fragrant Grapes was undoubtedly very lovely at that time of the year, but just like many other gardens, libraries, restaurants, post offices, bookstores, and tailor shops, it had lately become unsafe for the members of our organization. It was far too risky to organize the wedding in a widely known place. That was why the ceremony itself, as well as the celebratory banquet, took place in a small hotel outside the City. It was called The Eye of the Storm, and that name was more than appropriate. “The eye of the storm” is an expression which means an area of calm weather at the centre of a hurricane, both literally and figuratively, and so the present celebration seemed a calm moment at the centre of the hurricane of feuds and treachery that was raging in my life, as well as in the lives of the groom, the bride, and all the guests. An attentive visitor would also notice another eye – the motif used in the design of the hotel, from napkin rings to the moulding on the ceiling. To paraphrase the definition provided above, one could say that the eye of the storm is an area at the centre of a hurricane where the world is quiet.      

“Snicket, wake up!” called the lady I was dancing with. “Do you want us to bump into someone?”

“Sorry. I got lost in thought. And we wouldn’t have bumped into anyone: you’re the lead.”

“And good thing that I am. For a moment I felt like I was dancing with a coat rack or something like that. You alright?”

“Of course I am, R,” I smiled at my partner who was none other than R, the Duchess of Winnipeg. “How about you?”

“I’m fine, L. You know me,” she smiled back, but I saw it in her eyes that just like me, she couldn’t stop her gaze from drifting to the bride, who was dancing with her beloved in the centre of the ballroom. “It’s been long since I’ve come to terms with the fact that this is how it’s going to end. It’s only that when I used to imagine all of this before, it was you, not Bertrand, and it was easier somehow. But it’s nothing.”  

When I first met R, she was yet to become the duchess and the renowned meteorologist and the multiple fencing champion of VFD. Back then she was just the daughter of the previous Duchess of Winnipeg, now deceased; just a little girl who had just got her volunteer’s tattoo and, being confused and a little bit scared, went to explore the infirmary in search of someone who would explain to her where she was, why she was taken away from home, and where her parents were. That evening, she didn’t find the answers to all of her questions, but she found a little boy – me – who, like her, had just been tattooed and didn’t understand what was going on. We were already friends when we met Beatrice, the woman whose wedding we were dancing at today. When we understood that both of us were in love with her, we promised each other that we wouldn’t let that circumstance ruin our friendship. There is an absorbing Gothic novel in which three friends propose to the same girl, and remain friends after she chooses one of them. Similarly, my friend and I both courted Beatrice, leaving it up to her to choose one of us and not expecting that in the end, just like in that novel, there would be three contenders for her heart, and it would be the third one that she would favour. One could only hope that at that point, the similarities with the novel would end, although taking into account Beatrice’s fondness for bats, she would surely be amused by the prospect of being turned into a vampire.        

“I do know you, R,” I confirmed. “And that is exactly why I am worried.”

“Oh, come on. If you want to know, today I feel much better than over the last two months combined. Look around, L: even in these trying times we’re surrounded by noble and trustworthy people. My dear friend got married and is happy. I am dancing at her wedding in a wonderful dress and in an excellent company, and who knows,” she winked at me, “perhaps it’s in that excellent company that I’ll meet someone who would help me to let go of the past at last.”

“You will meet – or you have met?” I asked, intrigued. My friend smiled cryptically. “Who is she?”

“Look to your left. See a beautiful girl in a peach dress standing by the window?”

The girl was beautiful indeed. Something about the features of her face seemed familiar to me but I didn’t know her name, which was what I told R.

“Sally Sebald,” she told me, with the same conspiratorial look. “The little sister of Gustav, our Monty’s new… assistant.”  

If “our Monty” had heard the way R had spoken the word “assistant”, he would have definitely pretended to be offended to the marrow of his bones. However, at that moment he was busy dancing with that very assistant. The music stopped, and the band bowed in response to the applause, then proceeded to flip through the sheets, selecting the next piece to play.    

“I’ll leave you for a while,” R announced. “I must ask her for a dance. Promise me you won’t just stand by yourself ruining everyone’s mood with your long face.”

“I promise. Go for it,” I squeezed her hand, wishing her luck. “And I’ll go grab a bite.”

With that, I made my way to the cold table at the opposite end of the ballroom. “Cold table” is an expression which here means “a buffet-style table with the dishes that the guests are expected to help themselves to” not a table that is cold to touch, although I couldn’t have had any idea if that particular table was cold to touch before I ever touched it. As I was eating mushroom tartlets, I watched the dancers. Here was my brother waltzing with Olivia Caliban, and there was my sister, talking animatedly about something to her partner during the dance – and looking, as I was pleased to notice, like after all the recent troubles and worries she was finally at peace. Some of the guests might have been watching her too and wondering who she was dancing with: Frank or Ernest? That was, of course, the wrong question, while the right question would have been “How many Denouement brothers are there, actually?” I shifted my gaze to R, who was dancing with Gustav’s sister, then to Gustav and Monty and then to Ike and Josephine Anwhistle and so, looking over the dancing couples one by one, I finally met Beatrice’s eyes as she looked at me over her husband’s shoulder. My heart sank. That ballroom was full of people I held in great affection, and still I had to abandon them tomorrow, to flee abroad in order to save myself and everyone who was closely associated with me and could get in the firing line because of that. I didn’t know when I would see all of them again. Just the thought of it made me suffocate with grief.        

“Snicket,” someone said. I turned around. There was a woman standing next to me, one that was different from the other guests for two reasons. Firstly, most of the invitees were the same age as the bride and the groom, while this woman was much older. Secondly, I have never met anyone with a hair as thick, long, and unruly, presently already greying. Even if she had tried to arrange it in some sort of a hairdo on the occasion of the party, all the pins and clips clearly were already lost, unable to tame this natural disaster. “Do you mind?”

“An interesting question. For a well-mannered person, there’s only one answer to it,” I observed, “which could be in equal measure correct or incorrect depending on how much…”

“Snicket,” my chaperone interrupted me, annoyed, “I asked because you’re standing by yourself ruining everyone’s mood with your long face. If you’re fine with being in such condition, I can leave you alone.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Theodora,” I objected. “Shall I pass you something? The salmon sandwiches are really good.”  

“Thank you, I’ve enough for now,” she showed me a full plate. For some time we stood there eating and not saying a word, enjoying the music, the meal, and, to the lesser extent, each other’s company. Finally, Theodora said what she apparently wanted to say from the start.  

“I grew wary when I saw you here, quite honestly,” she began. “I knew you were invited, as astonishing as it may be, but I was still surprised you’ve showed up. I’ll admit I feared that at the last moment you’d… pull some trick. I even told Bertrand about it, but he just waved it aside.”  

“Well, that just proves the student has surpassed the teacher when it comes to getting other people,” I shrugged. “I suppose you wouldn’t trust me, but I didn’t even think of ruining the ceremony. Believe it or not, I sincerely wish Bertrand and Beatrice nothing but happiness.”

“You’re a peculiar person, Snicket.”

“Am I? I thought I am insufferable and lack respect for my elders.”

“And that, too. It won’t ever cease to amaze me that you and Bertrand hit it off.”

My brain instantly came up with a couple of presumably witty responses concerning how well we hit it off indeed – the champagne might’ve been to blame – but I restrained myself. There were some things she’d better stay unaware of.

“Life is full of surprises,” I observed instead. Theodora looked at me dubiously.

“I’d like to believe you’re telling the truth,” she said. “That you really came here to congratulate them on their marriage, and not to wallow in self-pity or make them doubt they made the right choice. You’re a peculiar person, Snicket, and that is precisely why I feel I really might be right to believe that. Care to ask the old hag for a dance?”

“With pleasure,” I agreed. This conversation was somewhat upsetting me, and it appeared I was already failing to keep the promise I gave R anyway. “May I have this dance, Theodora?”  

The look on her face told me she was expecting some other answer, in which I would have pointed out, for instance, that I see no old hags here, but she still gave me her hand, and we went dancing.

 ***

 The celebration ended late into the night. Many kind words were said to the bridal couple, many wonderful songs were sung, and the young Quagmire, evidently inspired by the example of his friend Bertrand, seized the moment to propose to his beloved. Finally the time came for everyone to head home. I was hanging around the hotel lobby and making my adieus to the guests: some of them were waiting for their taxis to arrive while some preferred to make use of the secret tunnel that connected The Eye of the Storm to a number of VFD buildings in the City. I was bidding farewell to my friends: sometimes a handshake, sometimes an embrace, and sometimes simply an exchange of phrases which would’ve seemed nonsensical to the uninitiated. My future appeared to me full of uncertainty and loneliness, and the volunteer’s work kept becoming more and more dangerous with every passing day. If I was destined to never meet my comrades again, then I wanted to remember them precisely the way they were that evening: happy, content, elegantly dressed, and with a newly found confidence that we may still be bound to witness the victory of nobility, valour, and erudition over cunning, avarice, and bad taste.                  

“We’ll meet you by the road junction at nine,” my brother said, clapping me on the shoulder. He was obviously worried. I didn’t want him to worry about me – I was doing that myself just fine. “Are you sure you don’t want to leave earlier? You could get there in time to catch the…”

“It is highly likely that our enemies have infiltrated the crew of the Prospero. You know that yourself,” I didn’t let him finish. “I’ll take the train. Don’t fret about me, Jacques. Better try to get some sleep. Or…” I cast a sidelong look at Olivia, who was standing nearby and apparently waiting for my brother, “spend the time until morning the way you see fit.”

It was twilight outside The Eye of the Storm, but I had no doubts Jacques blushed.  

“You’re taking a lot of risk, L,” he said, displeased. “Are you sure it’s worth it? After all, everything has changed now…”

“I know,” I said. Deep down, I wasn’t sure indeed if it was a good idea. If it was appropriate now, no matter how much we wanted to believe it was. But I couldn’t act differently. Firstly, I had given a promise. Secondly, if I changed my mind, then – who knows – I might miss the last chance to feel happy that I’d get in my life. “I am only sure that if I leave now, I am going to regret it. See you tomorrow, Jacques.”  

He frowned but said nothing more and, after hugging me once again, got into the car and left. I headed back to The Eye of the Storm. My brother and Olivia were the last ones to leave; presently the only ones staying at the hotel were the employees and the newlyweds. I sneaked a look into the ballroom and saw them talking about something to the hotel owner. The bride laughed at something and took her groom – her husband – by the hand. I was standing there in the dusk and thinking: what if my brother was right? Wouldn’t it be better for me to leave before it’s too late – just like that, without saying goodbye? I shook my head, chasing these thoughts away as if they were circling me like Snow Gnats, and hurried to the second floor. At the very beginning of the corridor, a bored-looking hall porter was sitting on a chair and cleaning his nails. I approached him.  

“Mr. and Mrs. Baudelaire are wondering if the still life with pineapples displayed in the ballroom is for sale,” I said.

The hall porter raised his head to look at me.

“Unfortunately it isn’t. It’s the only thing our owner has to remember his late grandmother by,” he replied, and gave me the key from the luxury suite. There was no further conversation between us; I took the key and headed to the suite.  

I entered the room, closed the door behind me, and looked around. As it is commonly known, luxury accommodations differ from the regular hotel rooms in the number of amenities and the refinement of the furnishings. In the present case, one of the indisputable advantages of this suite in comparison to the other rooms was a bookcase with a great number of books on its shelves. I looked over the room, checking, among other things, the presence of weapons and fire extinguishing tools hidden under the bed in the event of the enemies of the bridal couple finding out where the wedding was taking place and deciding to pay a visit. Then I took a collection of poems by Oscar Wilde from one of the shelves and immersed myself in reading, hoping for once I wouldn’t get much time for that.          

Indeed, I didn’t have to wait for long. There was the sound of steps and voices, and the just married burst into the room – it struck my eye that they were still holding hands. They didn’t notice me because as soon as Mr. Baudelaire shut the door behind him, Mrs. Baudelaire pinned him against that very door and kissed him. Since she threw off her high-heeled shoes the moment she ran into the room, she had to stand on tiptoe to kiss him, which looked absolutely adorable.

I watched those two who had clearly forgotten at that moment about the world around. Without a doubt, the Baudelaires were a beautiful couple. Beatrice was lovely even wearing an old tracksuit covered in dirt after the annual orienteering competition held in the city sewers – presently, in a white and golden wedding dress, she looked like an angel. Bertrand, handsome and well-built, looked dapper in a cream-coloured suit with a tea rose on the lapel. I was feasting my eyes on the both of them, all the while racked by doubts as to whether I’d better withdraw through the window before they noticed me. I even started to reflect on how wide the windowsills of The Eye of the Storm were, but then the Baudelaire spouses pulled away from each other and finally realized they were not alone in the room. My presence did not surprise them in the slightest.          

“You’re here,” Beatrice said, and her face lit up with such joy that I shook all the thoughts about the windowsills out of my head.

I put the book back on the shelf.

“I asked the hall porter about the painting with pineapples,” I said. “It is not for sale.”

“What a pity,” Beatrice replied merrily, ran up to me, and kissed me on the lips.  

I was not destined to tie the knot and start a family. When I was engaged to Beatrice, I tried to ignore the thought of it but it was always with me, in some hidden corner of my mind. It was there when Beatrice accepted my proposal and in the early days of our relationship and when I was twelve years old and Theodora was telling me that her previous apprentice, the same young man who was half-smiling now as he watched me kiss his wife, would become a husband and a father, while all that awaited me was loneliness. I was not destined to find the happiness harped on about by writers and telenovela characters and the designers of those advertisement posters that featured parents and two children, always a boy and a girl, carelessly consuming cereals or ice cream. But I knew happiness of another kind, and while the creators of cereal advertisements would hardly be able to appreciate it, I suspected that some writers could have understood me. I was kissing the woman that wasn’t mine in the eyes of the law and the society yet still was mine as much as I was hers – that is to say, with all her heart and all her soul – and I was happy. That was more than enough.          

Beatrice pulled away from my lips.

“I was mad the whole evening I couldn’t just come up to you for no special reason,” she told me. “Couldn’t dance with you, not even once.”

“It is important that as many people as possible are sure we’re not together anymore,” I reminded her. “You have plenty of your own enemies, Beatrice. You shouldn’t have to deal with mine to boot.”

“I refuse to believe that any single one of the people who were here today…” she started, but stopped short. Perhaps she remembered how fragile the bonds of friendship can be, and in how much danger they can be put both by ambition and the sense of duty. Perhaps she remembered about the family whose manor she used to visit as a child and about a night at the opera and the poison darts; about the articles in The Daily Punctilio and the stolen sugar bowl. I pulled her close. I didn’t want her to think about those things on the day of her wedding.    

Bertrand coughed. I met his eyes, and felt Beatrice softly push me away. It occurred to me that kissing the wife right in front of her husband’s eyes is extremely improper, so when he approached me I decided to atone for my behaviour, and kissed him too. If Beatrice always kissed with all the fervour of the woman who could fight off a giant eagle with her bare hands, then Bertrand always did it with all the thoroughness of the man who enters a lions’ cage without fear because he has studied their habits in all detail and thought out all the actions required in case the situation gets out of control. I didn’t see Beatrice’s face the moment my lips touched Bertrand’s, but I knew she was smiling.          

I ran my hand over his chest and felt for the tea rose.

“Been wondering all evening if it’s natural or not,” I said. My head was spinning. I still hadn’t fully got used to the effect these two had upon me, and this might have been our last night together.  

“Artificial,” Bertrand said, took the flower out of the buttonhole, and put it into my pocket. “Take it. As a keepsake of this day.”

“Thank you,” I said. As I was looking at him, I hoped yet again that if Beatrice’s children (who were bound to be born one day: she’s always wanted to become a mother) take after their father, they’ll inherit Bertrand’s features, not mine. I wouldn’t mind to pass on the colour of my eyes or my hair, but certainly not my innate tendency to corpulence that created certain inconveniences when it was necessary, for instance, to exit the building through the basement window. As to Bertrand, he was outrageously good-looking from head to toe – I remembered vividly how it used to annoy me back when I had just met him. I used to be itching to hit him even though he never actually provoked me in any way. I didn’t want to admit for a long time that what was hiding behind that was simply the longing to touch him. “But I think that can wait. I am not leaving yet, after all.”      

“Will you stay till morning?” Beatrice asked hopefully.

“I am to meet Jacques and Kit by the road junction a mile from The Eye of the Storm at nine o’clock. They’ll take me to the railway station – not the nearest one, but the one after – where I shall board the train at nine twenty-nine.”  

“It’s five minutes to two now,” Bertrand observed, glancing at his wristwatch.

“About seven hours,” Beatrice said, taking a step towards Bertrand and me, and put her hand on my cheek. “Almost the whole night.”  

“Your wedding night, by the way,” I reminded. “Are you sure that…”

“Lemony Snicket,” she interrupted me petulantly, and slapped me on the lips lightly with the tips of her fingers, “yes, we are sure, we’ve discussed all that more than once, we told you the password that got you the key to our room for a reason. If the world was simpler and quieter, you would’ve been getting married today as well. Consider this as your wedding night too. And before you’ve managed to make some other silly statement: yes, we’ve discussed that as well.”  

I looked at Bertrand. He nodded without thinking twice.  

“The fact that Beatrice and I are married now doesn’t change a thing,” he said. “Remember that when you return to the City. You will return one day, won’t you, Snicket?”

I was about to answer honestly, “I don’t know”, but I just couldn’t.

“I’ll try to,” I said. That was also true. I would have given anything not to leave the people I loved more than anything else in the world, but since I had no other choice, all that was left to me was to make every effort to come back to them sooner or later.  

“All right,” Beatrice said. “All right,” she repeated, and it seemed to me I saw tears glisten in her eyes and I felt scared. She stopped me with a motion of her hand before I could say anything to her. “We’ll talk about that later. Are you feeling sleepy?”

“Are you suggesting I go to sleep, Beatrice?”

“I suggest you accept that you’ll only get to sleep on the train.”

With that she pushed me to the bed – a large bed, the kind that three people would fit on with ease. Beatrice moved towards me and I moved back until I fell on my back right on the blanket. Beatrice lifted her skirt a little and climbed first onto the bed, and then on top of me.    

“Careful, Snicket,” Bertrand said as he noticed that my hands slid under her skirt. He sat on the bed and bent over me. “She’s got a dagger in her garter. Sheathed, of course, but you never know.”

I grabbed the tip of his necktie and pulled him closer.

“How interesting,” I said. Beatrice was straddling me, rising a little and then pressing herself to me again, and I was moving towards her in sync. “Do you also have anything hidden underneath your clothes, Mr. Baudelaire?”

“See for yourself,” Bertrand offered, and kissed me.

The storm was raging outside the hotel, yet only figuratively. Clouds were gathering over all the fearless and well-read people who have dedicated their lives to science, literature, and keeping the world quiet. But I and those two that I loved were in the eye of the storm: literally, because that was the name of the hotel, and figuratively, because that night we weren’t thinking about the schemes of our enemies and the everyday dangers that befell our friends. I was happy in a way the one whose beloved has just married someone else rarely is, and here, in the eye of the storm, nothing could take that happiness from me – at least not until the morning.      

[jpat82]

Don't

CHAPTER 7

By the end of the day Alexa had shown you a dozen of different apartments. She had said four but you asked to see a few more. She brought you back to the first one you really reacted to.

It's simple, stunning and cozy. The cherrywood floors and crown molding, the winging staircase to a loft above the living room. The loft was open so you could look down into the dining room and kitchen. It was perfect, everything you had never thought to dream off. She let you back in so you could take another walk around, you wandered back up the loft. A figured stopped you in your tracks.

Chris turned to face you as your foot it the top, his dark denim jeans clung tightly to his thighs. Chris was wearing white shirt and a black hoodie, his baseball cap top his head, so dressed down and relaxed. His smiled at you, his hands in his pockets.

"You sounded kind of down this morning, baby girl." He spoke softly as you walked up him.

"Didn't mean too." You smiled up at him.

"This the one you want?" His asked, looking around a bit, nodding to himself.

"Yes." You breathed, biting your lip, not believing it was real.

"I like it, I made sure that any place you saw today accepted cats." He added, pulling his hands out of his pockets, lacing his fingers with yours. He gently pulled them to his lips.

"How sweet of you." You replied, trying to sound playful but your nerves still kicking in. He quickly pulled you against him, smiling down at you.

     "So, this is the place." His voice low, watching your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

     "Yes, this place is absolutely stunning." You tell him, slowly he leaned his down, planting his lips against yours. You snaked your arms around his neck, leaning into the kiss. His hands traveled down to small of your back, resting just above the curve of your butt.

    "So why did you sound so down this morning?" He asked softly, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours.

    "I was hoping I would get to see you today, it was foolish but I'm glad I did." You sighed, slowly relaxing in his arms.

    "I had somethings to attended to this morning, so after you sign some papers I can help you retrieve your things." He stated, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "And then we can get some take out, and come back here."

    "Sounds wonderful." You replied, lifting your head to look up at him.

      True to his words, after you signed the lease agreement and the keys were in your hand, Chris helped you load your things in boxes putting them in the back of a truck he owned. Before long, you had your stuff at your new place, Hagrid in tow.

     He ordered pizza, and the two of you nestled into the new place.

     "So, tell me, craziest thing you've done." He narrowed his eyes at you, pointing a slice of pizza at you.

      "Beside moving clear across the country? Um, I decided to walk across a frozen river in Canada." You tell him shrugging. "It was in the middle of February in Manitoba. Me and couple friends were wandering around Winnipeg and saw a river completely covered in snow. So we decided what the hell why not, I was the furtherest out about half way across when heard it start cracking under my feet. I told my friend behind me to slowly start heading back."

    You paused remembering the harrowing experience, that rush you had gotten not know if it would break or not.

      "She turned back, and I could still hear it creaking under me. It was terrifying, cause I knew if the ice broke with me on it I would go under, and I didn't know how fast the river was moving under it. After she got a distance away, I slowly started to return back to the shoreline. It wasn't till we got back to solid ground she asked why I told her to turn back and why I waited so long." You explained to him.

     "And?"

     "Well I knew if we walked together the ice wouldn't hold the both of us and we'd both go under. I knew there was a chance of it breaking with just me on it but she would be far enough away that it wouldn't effect her." You shrugged again, not really thinking much of it.

      "So you risked your own safety for your friend?" He leaned back against the arm of the couch, looking at you, a warmth in his eyes.

      "I guess? I mean it was my idea to walk out in the middle of the river. I'm not from there I didn't know how thick the ice would be, and it was night so if we would run into trouble no one would of been there to help us." You grabbed another slice of pizza, you never really thought of it that way. That you had risked your own life by staying put, allowing her to make off the ice safely, you just did what you thought was right.

      Chris smiled to himself, you were definitely different then a lot of people. Most people would of turned back with their in tow and put the both of them in danger, not purposely but because they hadn't thought it through. Yet you possessed the calmness to think through the options before making any rash decisions.

"I'm going to be gone for the next two weeks, I have some interviews in California I have to deal with. In the meantime." He said, leaning to the side, pulling his wallet out. He opened the leather item flipping through it before pulling the black plastic card out. "I want you to get you some things, clothes, furniture, anything you could want or need. It's already got money loaded own to it. I'm waiting for your card to come in but that should work for now."

"Chris, you don't have to buy.." he cut you off with a serious look, the one that made you feel like a child.

"No back talk." He stated simply place the card on the coffee table. "You will use it, I'm sure there are things you want."

"Chris." You sighed.

"And I want you to take my truck while I'm gone. When I get back we'll look for a more suitable car for you." He explained, wiping his hands on a napkin before standing.

"What do I do while you're gone?" You ask, grabbing the empty boxes of pizza.

"I don't know, if you want I can leave Doger with you. Though I'm not sure how he'd get along with Hagrid." He chuckled, following you to your kitchen.

"As much as I love animals, probable would be the best for him." You squinted your nose, after putting the boxes in rubbish bin.

"I'll have Scott look after him." He stated, wrapping his arms around you. "Care to drive me home so you can keep the truck?"

@kitkatkl @lilypalmer1987 @sebbystanlover-vk @tshollandlove @sincerelytlh @whooolemilk @samwinchxtr @kimmiestrawberrykiwi

[hearthstvnc-blog]

     hey fam!! i’m ollie and i love bringing back old muses of mine... sry if this intro gets a little a lot long...

     ++ Who’s that running into Camp Half-Blood? Oh, it’s the [OC] demigod [LAWRENCE HEARTHSTONE]! They really look like [CODY SAINTGNUE]. Rumour is this [NINETEEN] year old [CLAIMED] [SON] of [KHIONE] is very [QUIET & CLOSED-OFF], but at least they’re also [ADAPTABLE & GROUNDED]. Hopefully the monsters won’t get them. {ollie, 20, she/her, est}

THE STORY:

     opposites attract, but they never ensure true love.

     jason hearthstone is a kind man with a warm heart who lived for a game played on the ice --- and maybe that’s why khione was drawn to him in the first place; not for the game he played, but the fact that the prettiest lights are the best to snuff out.

     lawrence is born ice cold on the coldest day of the year, the product of a drunken one night stand between a pretty girl and a guy fresh off a win. he never gets told all the details, but what lawrence know is this:

          --- he was not meant to be           --- that does not mean his father loves him any less

                                                             ( despite the hectic schedule of an nhler. )

                ( despite the fact he sees his aunt                     more than his father sometimes. )

     in the end, it’s no surprise he follows in his father’s footsteps, into a world of skates and sticks and pucks and ice --- and maybe with her blood in his veins too, it was never meant to be anything else.

     the truth hits like a snow storm.

     it’s february in winnipeg and the temperature is dropping to that point where it’s almost too cold to snow. the winters are harsh here, harsh enough to turn lakes into hard glass ( but harsh winters bear the toughest people ). jason hearthstone laughs at his son –newly turned twelve– who begs him to let him play shinny on the frozen pond in the woods behind their house. he lets him go after bundling lawrence in clothing with a stern reminder to be back for dinner to which the child enthusiastically nods.

     there are some days that jason hearthstone sees so much of himself in his son.

     ( there are other days that he’s reminded of her, though –from cold eyes to cold hands. perhaps he had always known that was going to be more than a one night stand ).

     on a frozen pond, lawrence hearthstone practices his skating and shoots pucks into a net. these are the drills he’s known forever now –from watching is father, from the little leagues, to elementary school. but pond ice is not perfect. it’s shaped by the elements, rough and imperfect. lawrence’s skate blade catches in a flaw and he twists his ankle as he goes down.

     lawrence falls to the ice, to cradle his leg, gritting his teeth against the pain. a few tears escape as he tries to stand again only to fall back down. the snow seems to fall more thickly, and when lawrence looks up, she is there.

    “ my dear— ” her hand is cold on his skin. 

    the khione lawrence sees is young, barely looking past twenty one, probably the same she looked to his father all those years ago. “ —any child of mine knows to be wary of tears for they can freeze. ”    with his face in her hands teardrops freeze in their tracks.     “ do you know who i am? ”

    lawrence blinks back, silent.

     “ i suppose your father never would tell you about me— he never had a reason to. ”

    and that’s “ —-mom? ”

    her laugh is like icicles rattling together, bell-like but a touch too sharp. “ most know me as khione —but you’re not wrong. i trust you will do me well. ”

    she says very little after that, disappearing in a burst of snow that drifts slowly down with the rest of the flakes. jason hearthstone would find his son hours later, half buried —and he would know that the truth was out.

    three weeks later, lawrence freezes his waterbottle solid in the middle of practice. he thinks he can almost hear her laughing in his ear.

    it all starts to snowball after that. it’s perhaps a mixed blessing that he spends so much time at the rink --- ice disguising ice and snow well.

    and his cyrokinesis isn’t the only thing that gets better. 

    it’s like a switch gets flipped in him, an extra sense he can feel all ends of the ice when he’s on it, feels slightly off when he’s not. he gets better and better and better and his father is delighted --- his laugh never seems to quite meet his eyes, though, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to finally drop.

    for a while it’s easy. easy to play hockey, easy to catch the eyes of scouts already, easy to wipe away a sheen of frost, easy to disguise a few snowflakes.

    lawrence turns sixteen and things stop being so easy.

    he’s locked into a playoff game when the puck drops --- along with the other shoe.

    it’s all a blur, monsters, a whirlwind of action. breaking his stick across the nose of something. a satyr --one of the team’s trainers-- finds him, and takes him where things will never be the same.

    it’s snowing when lawrence crosses the boarder by thalia’s tree for the first time. one minute his boots are in a foot of snow and the next they’re on grass and the sun is shining above. almost immediately, he starts sweating in his jacket.

    ryan –his satyr– guides him to the big house while lawrence remains in a stupor —still rattled from the attack and exhausted from the plane ride from winnipeg to new york. he never needs to be claimed with a glowing symbol. they ask him that first night and he says “khione” as snowflakes drift above his head.

    he stays the summer and learns how to protect himself –learns the details of greek myth and all the things his father had half hinted at but never really told. but he wants to go back home –he has a future built on ice, but not the kind his mother gave him. the future he wants is the same as his father’s ( sweat and ice and skates and goals and team ), but his mother’s blood in him has other ideas.

    lawrence goes home and learns the hard way that once things go bad there’s no returning to the past.

    the gorgon severely injures his best friend josh as it and its cohort attack the team in an attempt to get to him. lawrence still doesn’t know what nightmares they saw in those moments manipulated by the mist. his best friend out for an entire season, his team in shambles —only then did lawrence see.

    ( maybe he’d always known --- dating back to a frozen lake in winnipeg, his mother warning him of the dangers of crying as tears froze on his face ).

    it’s snowing when lawrence crosses the boarder for the second time, alone and unsure.

HEADCANONS:

the one time lawrence has left camp boundaries was at the beck of hestia who no doubt found his last name to her amusement. her cat had escaped and found itself literally on thin ice and lawrence was recruited to retrieve it. honestly, he’s not even sure if this counts as a quest.

ironically, lawrence’s most prominent scar has nothing to do with his demigod genes. under his left eye there’s the remains of a nearly two-inch scar slightly paler than the rest of his skin from a wayward puck while he was playing shinny. he has other very small and various scars from accidents, pre-chb and post.

when it happened, he had planned to have his draft day tattooed on him, but that passed six months ago. he doesn’t think there’s any chance of that ever happening now.

lawrence is always extremely cold to the touch. his hands are freezing and his skin never warms even if he’s sweating. he functions much better in cold temperatures and thinks CHB is too hot literally all the time. if it’s above freezing, it’s too hot.

the water nymphs HATE him because he always wants to freeze the lake to skate.

lawrence is VERY competitive. boy may not be the happiest here, but bet he goes HARD in capture the flag.

lawrence is very aware of what khione had done and her role in the fall of olympus –obvious he does not condone it, but he’s not ashamed of the power he has either. you cannot help who your parentage is –but you can decide what to do with the power you’re given

personality-wise, lawrence is very loyal and down to earth --- but he is very good at hiding his emotions and intentions, and that he did not get from his father. 

CONNECTIONS

i’m too terrible at this to really list random ones. but come to me or give this a like or something and i’ll read ur chara’s intro and i’m sure we can rustle some fun things up !!

my discord is olofsson#5730