#colorado avalance

[slowwshoww]

Most Hateable NHL Team

feel free to campaign for the team you think is the most hateable. the best propaganda will be included in the next round

round one

[alltaternotot]

The Big Chop | A. Georgiev

Alexandar georgiev x fem reader 

A/N: time for some promised goalie love!! Georgie occupies about 99% of my hockey brain right now, and I really like his haircut. I might make a part two to this if I’m feelin it. 

CW: nothing really, Georgie getting his haircut, tooth rotting fluff. Very lightly proofread, sorry for any mistakes! 

Word count: 1.2k

:)

<><><><> 

Alex’s hair was getting very, very long. 

Not that you didn’t love his hair long, you really did. He had been growing it out since before Colorado scooped him up, something superstitious causing him to put the clippers away. Not only that, he wanted to try out a different style than he was used to in New York. 

It turned into bonding time for you two, something for you to do when he was home so you could enjoy some nice quality time with him. You washed it for him in the shower, your hands in his hair with his lips on your neck becoming your own personal heaven. You gave him some nice leave in conditioner to keep it soft, and he hung on every word while you explained. You would even trim the dead ends off every so often to keep it looking healthy. You were getting very good at trimming straight and feathering in some texture at the bottom. 

His hair was past his shoulders now. Lately, you had been helping him style it into a sleek bun for his walk ins, which you had become oddly fond of. It would flow out from under his helmet during games and he would come home with a damp mop on his head. As much as you loved it, you noticed him repeatedly tucking it behind his ear  or brushing it back, a look of annoyance coming over his features. He even took a late night trip to Walmart for one of those headbands with teeth to keep it out of his eyes. 

Then, the Avs started losing. Alex was exhausted by playing so many games, the Defence was suffering a little bit, and silly mistakes were leading to losses. You could tell it was affecting him, he came home quieter and just wanted to go to sleep after a hard game. He could see people talking about him. You just wanted to hug him and kiss him and take all the tough feelings away. But you couldn’t, which was the hardest thing to wrestle with as his girlfriend. He was starting in net again tonight, Jared keeping his faith in Alex after a couple games of rest. 

He had been in the bathroom a little longer than usual. He had already been to morning skate, and taken his shower, so now he had free time till he had to leave for the game. You were sitting in the living room, relaxing with a cup of tea in hand while Alex got ready. 

“Baby? Would you come here?” His voice floated from the bathroom out into the hallway. 

“Everything okay in here?” You asked, walking into the bathroom to your shirtless boyfriend leaning over the sink, his hair damp. 

“I think it’s time.” He said, which felt cryptic to you, but he gave a look like you would know exactly what he was talking about. 

“Time for what Alex?” You inquired. 

“Time for a chop.” He said, bending down to open the cabinet that held the hair shears and his clippers. “I need a boost out there and I’m tired of brushing it back.” 

“Oh! How much are you thinking?” You asked, scooting up onto the counter so you could sit in front of him.

“I want it off my neck I think, not too short but not super long anymore.” He handed the shears up to you, his head still buried in the cabinet below you both. “Are you ok with doing it? I don’t really have time to book an appointment with the barber before the game.” 

“Sure I can! Just don’t be mad if it doesn’t turn out perfect!” You joked, and he laughed, standing back up with his little bag of clippers and heads of varying length. 

“I’m sure you’ll do great baby.” He said, leaning in for a sweet kiss. “I’ll get a trash bag for the floor, don’t move.”

You let out a little giggle at his excitement, hopping off the counter to plug in his clippers and clean off the shears as best as you can. He rounded the corner again, a trash bag and a stool in hand. He put the bag down, then the stool, and sat down right in front of you, ready for you to start. 

“You’re super sure about this right?” You asked one more time, a little worried he might regret it and be in his head before the game. 

“I’m ready. It’s time.” He said, big brown eyes meeting yours in the mirror in front of you both. 

“Okay… look down…” you murmured, brushing his hair back while he relaxed into your gentle touch. 

You started by clipping up his hair in layers, making sure they were straight across the back of his head. You eyeballed a length a little longer than what he asked for, bringing the shears up right underneath your fingers. The sharp noise of the shears rang around the bathroom walls as you made your first snip, watching his chocolate locks fall to the ground. Slowly, you made your way through the layers of his hair, gently brushing off his bare shoulders when a stray lock got stuck on his skin. It was quiet other than the snipping. 

“Baby?” Alex’s soft voice broke the quiet.

“Mhm?” 

“Will you still wash my hair for me in the shower now that it’s short?” He asked, and you looked up from the snip you just made to watch his face in the mirror. 

“Of course I will love,” you murmured, letting your hand fall to his shoulder, “why do you ask?” 

“I just really like it, it’s one of my favorite parts of the day. You’re like, the best at it.” He gushed, the edge of his lips curling up in a sweet smile, “I swear you’re what makes my hair so soft.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so, but it’s a nice thought love,” you giggled out, “you’re gonna be shocked at how light it feels.” 

He smiled at you, now looking straight ahead, “It already feels better. Like a fresh start. What about the leave in conditioner?” 

“You can still use it, just use a little less and run it through your hair like you would with a gel. A little goes a long way.” You explained and he nodded shortly, not wanting to mess up your handiwork. 

“Sounds good baby.”

“Almost done, look down again…” you continued, delicately moving his head down with your fingers. 

You feathered in some more snips, bringing the line of his hair right above his neck. It was still longer than it used to be in his early days in New York, just more manageable. You, of course, thought he looked handsome with any length of hair, but you liked this length on him a lot. It just felt right to let the hair, and therefore the losses and all the other baggage that comes with it, go completely. It felt like a mini victory in and of itself. 

“Ok, I think we’re done. Check it out hon.” You murmured.

He looked up, turning left, right, then center, his pearly teeth showing through a sweet smile. He ran a big hand through his hair, putting it exactly how he liked it. 

“It’s perfect baby. Thank you.” He admired, pulling you in front of him for a hug and a sickly sweet kiss, your hands falling on his bare shoulders with the shears forgotten. 

“You’re welcome. You might need another shower though, you’re covered in hair.” You said with a punctuating giggle. 

“Only if you join me and wash my hair for me.” 

[mystery-star]

@mrs-mikko-rantanen Look I got a little something for you bc I remember that your birthday has been one of these days :) (if I remember correctly...)

(I was gonna draw John in the Avalanche hoodie anyways, then couldn't decide which one to take and figured since you'll be the one liking that most I can give the other hoodie to Tree)

[aewasp]

Please, as an Avs fan, somebody put me out of my misery. Watching hurt.

[xoxo-go-piss-girl]

Hockey player!Stan hcs

This is cause I have total brain rot of this hehe, I’m obsessed!!!

- total flirt, known as the teams pretty boy because he knows he’s a favorite with the girls

- Has a specific dance when he scores a goal

- Usually the first to either get into or start a fight

- Has lost a tooth, don’t worry he has a fake tooth there in replacement, totally thought it was cool meanwhile Sharon almost passed out seeing that happen

- On the college hockey team, hoping to make nhl one day

- if kids ask for his autograph he definitely gets way excited

- If he’s dating someone definitely tries to mention them anytime he can

- Ex: interviewer - how did you prepare for this game?

- Stan - Lots of practice, and my girlfriend put my lucky laces in my skates

- Interviewer - Okay thank you, this is Stan Marsh number 18

- He’s number 18, that was randomly selected but will always claim it’s now his lucky number

- Has lucky laces, they’re blue

- Also has lucky socks, those are green and definitely on their last days, the last time he had to throw out his lucky socks though he cried

- Favorite team is the Colorado Avalance

[catboygretzky]

absolutely losing my mind over how in the splash shot thing the teams were introduced as the rangers, the tkachuk brothers, colorado avalance and then sidney crosby and his buddy nate mackinnon. oh ok cool just sid and his buddy nate. i'm so normal about the wording of that.

they could hardly say "the crosby-mackinnon's"

[cellythefloshie]

Random ask: pick one babe from every nhl team -🩵

Okay, not going to lie. I've wanted to do something like this for a while. This will be based on each team's 2022-2023 roster. (Maybe we do this every year after the trade deadline?)

Anaheim Ducks - Anthony Stolarz Arizona Coyotes - Shea Weber (LOL) Boston Bruins - Jeremy Swayman Buffalo Sabres - Alex Tuch Calgary Flames - Blake Coleman Carolina Hurricanes - Andrei Svechnikov Chicago Blackhawks - Taylor Raddysh Colorado Avalance - Gabe Landeskog ( I know he was on IR but he's the only one from that team I can tolerate rn ) Columbus Blue Jackets - Elvis Merzlikins Dallas Stars - Jake Oettinger Detroit Red Wings - Andrew Copp Edmonton Oilers - Leon Draisaitl Florida Panthers - Matthew Tkachuk LA Kings - Alex Iaffalo Minnesota Wild - Brandon Duhaime Montreal Canadiens - Josh Anderson Nashville Predators - Roman Josi New Jersey Devils - Brendan Smith New York Islanders - Matt Martin New York Rangers - Chris Kreider Ottawa Senators - Alex DeBrincat Philadelphia Flyers - Brendan Lemieux Pittsburgh Penguins - Brian Dumoulin San Jose Sharks - Evgeny Svechnikov Seattle Kraken - Vince Dunn St. Louis Blues - Jakub Vrana Tampa Bay Lightning - Ross Colton Toronto Maple Leafs - Ryan O'Reilly Vancouver Canuks - Anthony Beavillier Vegas Golden Knights - Reilly Smith ( this one took me a while, really had to stare at their roster ) Washington Capitals - Tom Wilson Winnipeg Jets - Adam Lowry

[amvzonprime]

aquela ali é HIPPOLYTA? não, claro que não. ela é apenas CINDY LEE HAMMOND, uma INSTRUTORA DE LUTA de PHILADELPHIA, EUA.. chegou a zakynthos faz TRÊS ANOS e aparentemente está amando a estadia. elx se parece um pouco com FC mas sempre nega isso! CINDY tem 26 anos e desde sempre dizem que ela é DETERMINADA, DIVERTIDA, RANCOROSA E IMPULSIVA. acho que só conhecendo para descobrir! algo em diz que conheceremos muito além disso.

curiosidades:

Cindy vem do nome Cinderella. Sua mãe insistia que ela seria sua princesinha.

Hippolyta é filha de Ares, o deus da guerra, e uma das rainhas amazonas mais fortes.

Tem como relíquia ela o cinturão de sua primeira luta clandestina; provavelmente feito de joias e diamantes roubados, ela usa de amuleto. se quer vê-la feroz, toque no cinturão sem sua permissão.

Não está ciente da maldição. 

Instrutora de luta e dona de academia. 

like eu considero como aval pra chamar pra plots, rs

tw: relacionamento abusivo, feminicídio, violência. (sem descrições, apenas citações)

Se você pensa em me dominar. perdeu seu tempo. Nem mesmo se você juntar um regimento.

Foi aos seis anos de idade que Cindy enfrentou sua primeira guerra: a separação dos pais. Fruto de um relacionamento caótico entre uma chinesa e um norte-americana, a menina era testemunha de diversas brigas causadas por um relacionamento extremamente abusivo e um ciúmes possessivo, o Sr. Hammond era um homem não só rígido como também controlador. E uma parte dessa história vocês já devem imaginar: a cerimônia fúnebre de sua mãe ocorreu aos 10 anos de idade de Cindy, situação que deu a ela forças para reagir. Seu pai havia sido preso com a jura de que, se não se comportasse enquanto ele estava na cadeia, ela seria a próxima; sem festas, namorados, amigos íntimos, estava sendo cuidada por sua tia paterna que era tão ruim quanto o irmão.

Mas se não quer se aborrecer, é melhor eu te dizer

Com um dom sem igual para encontrar-se com o caos e um psicológico abalado por conta de ter crescido em um lar onde a expressão de sentimentos ruins se dava através da violência, Philadelphia já não era mais um lugar para ter a ficha limpa. Expulsa de cinco escolas, fugida de dois internatos, com diversas passagens pela polícia por violência, aos 18 anos e com o ensino médio incompleto ela foi expulsa da casa de sua tia com a desculpa que já podia se virar sozinha - e realmente podia. Defesa pessoal nunca foi um problema para ela.

Não toque em mim, e chega pra lá. Sai fora daqui que eu quero passar... Me deixa correr se não vai ser pior.

Da Philadelphia para Miami, de Miami para Nashville, ela viajou a América inteira até voltar para os Estados Unidos; e foi no Colorado, aos 21 anos que ela pensou se encontrar: começou ganhando dinheiro em lutas clandestinas de casas noturnas, o valor não cobria os riscos mas ela era boa lutadora. Não demorou muito até ser reconhecida por um olheiro que ofereceu-lhe uma boa ajuda, treinamento e um patrocínio - agora, ela bia na luta uma carreira profissional. Destinou toda sua raiva e dor para as disputas, uma lutadora nata, ela dificilmente perdia uma luta da categoria feminina e aventurava-se frequentemente pelas masculinas. Começou a frequentar um psicólogo, o que reduziu em muito suas respostas hostis para algo que não lhe agradava e os hematomas derivados de desavenças. Não demorou muito para tornar-se conhecida nacionalmente, depois, mundialmente; era pequena e não apresentava traços de tamanha força, mas era habilidosa, escorregadia, ágil e voraz.

É bom saber comigo é assim. Não toque em mim.

Zakynthos apareceu em sua vida como uma benção; adorava a adrenalina das disputas e amava a sensação que sentia socando a cara de alguém, mas as coisas não estavam mais indo tão bem. Seu pai havia saído da prisão, e nada no mundo tirava dela o medo que sentia do homem - traumas de infância que sempre a assombraram. Mesmo com todas as promessas de cuidado por parte de seu treinador e amigo, ela decidiu que ir embora seria a melhor opção. Mas para onde? Não havia na américa lugar que poderia conter um obsessivo, assim pensava. Foi então que conheceu uma pessoa; pela internet, da para acreditar? Afeiçoou-se ao rapaz e criaram grandes laços, conversaram por horas, dias, meses até que um convite foi feito: a Grécia não parecia ser um lugar ruim para morar, e o medo de se arriscar não era tão grande quanto a adrenalina que aquilo proporcionava.

Encantou-se por Zante no mesmo momento que chegou na cidade e logo decidiu que ali ficaria, a cidade parecia atraí-la em diversos âmbitos inexplicáveis. Fez do condomínio Olym sua morada, onde reside até então, e abriu sociedade em uma academia de treinos denominada "LUTE!" (páli!, em grego) onde a própria é instrutora de luta.

[luxuryandsports1]

Avalanche Wondrous Colorado Colorado Avalanche Flag Price From: 42.99 | | [Buy it now at] : https://luxuryandsports.com/product/avalanche-wondrous-colorado-colorado-avalanche-flag/ ✅http://Luxuryandsports.com https://Facebook.com/luxuryandsports/ https://Pinterest.com/luxuryandsports2022/ ✅https://twitter.com/luxuryandsport2 https://www.instagram.com/luxuryandsports.official/ #Trend #halloween #chirstmas #gift #funny #cool #Sum New Outdoor Flags: Express Yourself with Style Outdoor flags have a significant role in personal and public expression. They are a powerful symbol that represents our values, beliefs, and interests. Whether it's showing support for your favorite sports team or commemorating a special occasion, flags create a visual statement that speaks volumes. Among the vast array of options available, the Aval...

[hintzy]

r slash colorado avalance absolutely dragging b*nn. like yes!!!! Keep going!!

[theroopetomyhintz]

Sebastian Aho, Aleksander Barkov and Mikko Rantanen are the first three who are going to be part of Finnish Olympic Team 🥰💙 Can't wait the whole team who are going to also be part of the team 💙

[starwarsloverpizza]

I hope the Avs get a hat trick

[borrowedfromanothergalaxy]

this offseason is giving me even more anxiety than usual. 

[cherrylita]

i just saw josty’s new insta profile pic omg i’m gonna cry 🥺

[puckinghell]

Know Your Worth | Tyson Jost

Summary: While you’re busy with some guy who’s clearly not worth your time, there might be something better waiting at your door... Words: 2.3k Note: Happy Valentines Day remember chocolate will be on discounted on Saturday

--

“I’ve got a problem,” you proclaim, putting down your phone onto the counter, making sure to turn the screen to the bottom. From where he’s standing at the stove, Tyson raises an eyebrow without looking at you.

“I’ve got many problems,” he deadpans, “but you go first.” 

You know Tyson is talking about the struggles he’s been having with scoring, not enough goals after his name in the stats. But this is, arguably, more important. 

“It’s almost Valentines Day.” At those words, Tyson somewhat freezes, before finally turning around to face you. 

If you weren’t so caught up in this issue, you would’ve told him to keep watching the rice. Last time he tried cooking for you and took his eyes off the stove, everything literally crashed and burned. 

“So?” he asks. 

“So I haven’t heard anything from Calvin yet! How am I supposed to know whether or not to keep my evening free this Friday, if he doesn’t text?” 

“Your evening is free anyway,” Tyson says, not unkindly. Which, it might be true, but that’s just rude, so you take the spatula that’s on the counter and throw it in your best friend’s general direction.

“Hey!” Tyson yelps, jumping to the side. “No throwing kitchen utensils! And I didn’t mean it in a bad way, just, you’re gonna keep that evening free anyway, so.” 

“That’s so not the point,” you whine. “The point is that Calvin shouldn’t expect me to keep that time free, he should text me and ask me to keep it free!” 

From Tyson’s expression, you can tell he doesn’t really get it. That’s not surprising: your best friend is annoyingly practical, and annoyingly male, and guys just don’t get this kinda stuff. 

And then there’s the tiny detail that Tyson really, really, really doesn’t like Calvin, anyway. 

You’re not sure why; they’ve barely ever interacted. They met once when you ran into Calvin while buying groceries with Tys, and Calvin was perfectly polite and nice, while Tyson spent the entire 10 minute conversation shooting daggers at your...

Well. Boyfriend would be too big a word. You’ve not ever had that conversation. 

The thing is, things are complicated between you can Calvin. You met months ago in a club and you've been dating since, but not very regularly. It’s like one day, he’s interested, and the next he’s not. He texts you either twenty times a day or not at all for a week. He’ll either tell you he thinks you might be the one or tell you he’s just not ready for anything serious. 

It’s like, headspinningly stressful, to never know what he’s thinking. 

And yet, Tyson is probably right; saying no to him is simply not an option for you. It’s not even... Calvin is not the greatest guy you’ve ever met. He’s not the kinda guy you can count on, which was made clear to you when he failed to show up to help you move some boxes - you called Tyson for that, later, and he showed up within 10 minutes - and instead you got a call from him at 4am from some kinda club. Calvin is also not super funny, he doesn’t make you laugh like Tys can, and he’s not... 

He’s not even that hot. 

It’s just.

He’s interested in you. Sometimes, or maybe even most of the time. And it’s been a while since you had someone like that.

So. 

“You should come over Friday.” 

Tyson’s voice shakes you out of your land of dreams, and you land harshly with two feet on the floor.

“Huh?” 

He rolls his eyes. “For Valentines Day. You should come here. I’ll cook for you.” 

“You, cook?” you grin. “And this is supposed to make me want to come here?” 

But Tyson is genuinely looking a bit distraught, his cheeks red and eyes fixed on the floor, and you do love how your best friend always tries to be your knight in shining armor, so you nod.

“Okay, sounds good.” 

“You gotta keep your head up, babe,” Tyson says, before turning back to the stove, and you smile. 

He always says that, whenever you’re complaining about your - nonexistent - love life: “gotta keep your head up”. 

You imagine that must be pretty easy for him to keep his head up: he’s Tyson, he’s a professional athlete, he’s funny, he’s easy to talk to, he’s kind and caring, he’s attractive and cute - yes, they’re different things - so girls would be lining up to go on Valentines dates with him. 

But you know he mean well, so you roll your eyes.

“Sure, Tys. How about the rice, is it ruined yet? Am I ordering pizza?” 

Tyson’s voice is small when he answers: “Maybe.” 

---

You’re about ready to leave to go to Tyson’s apartment for your dinner and movie night when your phone rings. 

“Babe, happy Valentines!” It’s Calvin, because of course it is. You check your watch; 10 to 6. 

“Hello,” you say, carefully. You haven’t heard from him a few days, apart from maybe two Snaps that were of very little interested to you, so it’s kinda strange that he’s calling. 

“So, you, me, dinner at the Ivy, I’ll pick you up in half an hour. How does that sound? I made reservations and everything.” 

Your heartbeat picks up; you know this is stupid, you should say no, you already have plans, because you do. You’ve got plans with Tyson and he would be annoyed if canceled now. How could you even get ready in half an hour? You’re in your sweatpants, for Christ sakes. He didn’t even take the time to text you before, he didn’t even bother to ask...

“Okay,” you hear yourself say, and Calvin says something you can’t really make out before hanging up. 

Fuck. 

But you’ve said yes now and Tyson is your best friend, so surely he would understand, right? Tyson is your best friend, so why do you feel like your hands are made of lead as you lift the phone to call him.

“Y/N?” Tyson’s voice is cheery. “Are you running late again? You know you don’t have to call me for that, I always add at least 20 minutes to whatever time we decide on.” 

An involuntary smile makes its way to your face before you remember why you’re calling, and it drops immediately.

“Uhm, Tys, I’m really sorry, but...” 

“Oh,” Tyson says, and all the cheeriness has disappeared from his voice. “You’re not coming.” 

It’s not a question, it’s a statement; he knows you just a little too well. 

“No.” You hate how small your voice sounds, how guilty you sound; you don’t want to do this to him, but if there’s even a small chance that Calvin wants to be with you, you need to take that opportunity, you need to...

“I’ll throw the food in the freezer,” Tyson interrupts your trail of thought. He sounds flat, like he’s trying not to show you that he’s annoyed; it doesn’t really work.

You know him quite well, too.

“I’m really sorry Tys, I just...”

“Don’t,” Tyson cuts you off. “I’ll see you later. Have a nice night.” 

Then there’s nothing but the flat tone of a dead line, and the nagging thought in your mind that you might’ve made the wrong decision.

---

Two hours later, you’re standing outside Tyson’s door, your arms folded around yourself. You knock, but when the door opens, it’s not Tyson.

“Oh, JT,” you say, a bit weakly. “Hey, I just came to...”

“To apologize, I hope,” JT interrupts. He narrows his eyes, looks you over. “Where’s your coat?” 

“I don’t have one.” You blink, a bit confused. “Wait, what are you doing here on Valentines? Shouldn’t you be with...”

“My girlfriend? Yes. But when my friends are upset and need me, I’m there for them.” There’s an underlying tone to his voice that you can’t quite place. “Your date didn’t work out again?”

And, oh. You like JT, but you rarely talk to him, so the only way he can know about Calvin is if Tyson told him. The idea, for some reason, makes your stomach churn. 

“No,” you admit. “Listen, can I come in? I need to...” 

But you don’t get to tell him what you need to do, because before you finish, JT steps aside and suddenly you’re met with Tyson’s apartment.

Except it doesn’t look like Tyson’s apartment at all. Because Tyson’s apartment doesn’t have a million candles scattered across the place, doesn’t have a nicely set up dinner table in the middle, doesn’t have a big bunch of roses in the middle of that table. 

It doesn’t have Tyson sitting on the couch with a bottle of red wine in his hand. 

“Let her in,” Tyson calls to JT, and you can immediately tell he’s been drinking the bottle. He’s not pissed drunk, not quite slurring his words, but he’s definitely mumbling a bit. 

“Fine,” JT says. “I’ll be going, then. Call me if you need anything, Josty.” 

And then he’s gone and you find yourself standing in the middle of the room, staring at Tyson.

“What’s this?” you ask, and you can hear your own voice as if it’s echoing in the room. 

Tyson laughs, but it’s clear he doesn’t find anything funny. 

“This was for you,” he says, with no malice in his voice. “I wanted to give you a proper Valentines date. But I guess Calvin beat me to it, huh? Did he show up this time?”

You stay silent, and he sighs. “He didn’t, did he?” 

And it’s so stupid because you’re clearly the one in the wrong here, Tyson should be yelling and screaming at you and probably throwing you out of his house, but there’s tears burning behind your eyes and he takes one look at you and opens his arms.

It feels safe and familiar, to fall next to him on the couch and crawl into his arms. He smells like red wine and he’s wearing a nice button up, the one he usually saves for fancy Avs business.

“Want some?” he asks, handing you the bottle. 

It’s quiet for a while, before you manage to bring out the words you really should’ve said the moment you walked in.

“I should’ve never ditched you for him, Tys. I’m so sorry.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Tyson agrees, and he sounds sad. “But it’s okay, I’m not mad. I just wish....” 

He cuts himself off and you allow him a few seconds before your curiosity can’t take it anymore.

“Just wish what?” 

“I just wish you found someone who loves you like you’re worth.” 

It’s like everything in the room freezes, Tyson’s words echoing in your head. But he’s still talking, not giving you time to process.

“It’s just, he keeps leaving you for dead. There’s no way that makes you happy, you know? You’re worth so much more. It’s like you don’t know what you’re worth, but I know you deserve so much more than this.” 

Tyson sighs. “I’m gonna stop talking and go to bed because I’m slightly drunk, but don’t forget what I said, okay? You deserve someone who picks you up when you’re down, who loves you at your worst.”

He stands up, stretching out in the middle of the candle lit room. “Someone who always puts you first, who wants nothing more than to see you smile.” He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Blow out the candles before you leave, will you?” 

And then he walks out and the door of his bedroom falls shut behind him, a million words swirling through your head.

There’s no way he could mean... him. Right?

Except, what if he did?

---

You go home that night confused and still upset with yourself, and you barely sleep that night. Every time you close your eyes you see the sadness in Tyson’s brown eyes, but also the understanding.

Like he knew this was going to happen. Knew you were going to ditch him and then come crawling back. 

Maybe he did.

But you also think about other things. About how Tyson always drops anything and everything when you need him. About how he makes you laugh even when you feel like crying. About how he’s always your biggest supporter, but never expects you to be at any of his big events. How he lets you complain without judging, always offers a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear, ready to give advise when asked but never shove it down your throat.

About how he loves you at your best, and at your worst.

And for the first time, that night, you think that maybe you could be worth it. 

---

“Y/N?” 

It’s not surprising that Tyson looks slightly confused and a little disheveled when he opens the door, because it’s only 9am, but you really couldn’t wait any longer. 

“You,” you breathe out. “It’s you.” 

“Huh?” Tyson rubs in his eyes, presumably trying to get rid of the sleep, and stares at you. “I mean, yeah, it’s me. I live here.” 

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, what I deserve. What I’m worth. It’s you.” 

Tyson’s eyes widen and for a second, a terrifying, horrible second, you think you read it all wrong; he didn’t mean he wanted to be that, he was just being a good friend, he just wants somebody to be that, he didn’t mean...

“Finally,” Tyson grins. “I told JT you would get it after all the candles.” 

A weight lifts from your shoulders.

“It took more than just the candles,” you admit a bit sheepishly. “I guess I really needed you to spell it out for me.” 

Tyson opens the door wider, motions for you to come in. “I could relight some candles. I don’t think last night’s pasta is gonna be very good, but I have cereal.” 

“Hmm,” you pretend to think about it. “Aren’t I worth more than cereal?” 

He waggles his eyebrows. “Lucky Stars.” 

You step inside and throw your arms around his neck.

“Show me the way.” 

But then he leans in and his lips touch yours, and well. 

Cereal can wait, a bit.