#get your ex love back in winnipeg | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

butgilinsky · 4 years

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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(:

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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

#nolan patrick #nolpat #nolan x reader #nolan patrick x reader #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey #hockey imagine #philadelphia flyers #flyers

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nugnthopkns · 4 years

Text

don’t say you miss me

word count: 5.5k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, references to sex but nothing explicit, cursing, recreational drug use (marijuana), alcohol consumption, there is no happy ending

recommended listening: overnight | maggie rogers

series masterpost: here

a/n: second installment of hiiapl! little overnight inspired ditty that i’m actually pretty proud of. i’m having so much fun with this it’s insane

You had never meant to get attached.

It was a lot easier said than done – especially with Kevin. He was loud and obnoxious, sure, but it was part of his charm. When you first met him, outside a club in downtown Winnipeg, you were blown away by his duality. He had been so loud with his group but quietly brought you a bottle of water after you puked on the sidewalk. After insisting you take his number so you could let him know you got home safely, Kevin convinced you to go to dinner with him. One meal turned into several and before you knew it you were engaged in a casual fling with the Winnipeg Jets’ newest centre. It was mostly sex, with the ocasional interaction outside of the bedroom, but something about Kevin made it feel like more than just a hookup. Over the few months you slept together your feelings shifted, and you began to harbour a rather large crush.

Just when you were going to take the leap and talk to Kevin about getting serious fate reared its ugly head. After only being in Winnipeg for six months, electing to not return to Massechusettes right away after the Jets playoff run finished, Kevin was traded out of the city. The news split your heart in two – there was no way the two of you could become a couple. Though long distance could have been an option, you weren’t going to ask him to commit to that. Being a professional athlete is tough as is, and having a girlfriend a six hour flight away was extra stress you refused to put on Kevin.

The last night you spent with Kevin was emotional. Lots of tears were shed, mostly from you. You knew he was compartmentalizing it all and trying to not let you know how much the trade was affecting him. Whenever the two of you had talked about hockey, Kevin was always quick to mention how much he loved Winnipeg and how much he wanted to stay. Neither of you talked much, too focussed on wallowing in sadness and committing each other’s bodies to memory. He left the next morning, and there was a silent agreement that whatever the two of you had was over. It was fun while it lasted but now you both have to be adults and get on with life.

☼☼☼☼

Nearly six months later you consider yourself to be getting on with life just fine. You’ve got a better paying job, a new apartment, and enthusiastically throw yourself into any project that’s presented. To others, however, you’re barely hanging on. Any time you get a text notification, you hold your breath until a name flashes that isn’t Kevin’s. A notification from Instagram saying he viewed your story makes your heart beat three times as fast. You constantly check for updates on how he’s playing, and watch as many Flyers games media blackouts will allow just to catch a glimpse of his face. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t shake Kevin Hayes.

“They’ll be in town this weekend,” your best friend Rachel says. “Are you gonna reach out to him?”

You nearly drop the carton of chinese food you’re eating on the floor. “I didn’t know that,” you stammer, trying to make your surprise believable. Kevin will be back in Winnipeg for the first time since being traded. You knew this already, of course, because you have the Flyers scheduled imprinted in your memory.

She narrows her eyes at you. “Don’t fucking lie to me. You knew they were coming to town. The NHL app stays open on your phone at all times.”

Caught in your lie, you can do nothing but duck your head. You’ve thought a lot about what you’re going to do. Should you send him a text, let him know you’re available after the game? Or should you ignore him completely and make it seem as though you’re doing much better than you are?

“I don’t know Rach. I’ve never had a sort of ex come back to the city he left me in.”

“He didn’t necessarily want to leave you,” Rachel points out. “He got traded. If you want my two cents, I don’t think you should give him a call. You need to move on, not stay stuck in the past.”

Your friend is right, and you know that’s what you should do. Moving on from Kevin would be easier if you didn’t try to contact him. He hasn’t reached out to you so you assume you’re the only one in the relationship still struggling to come to terms with his departure. You struggle with the decision until puck drop, but ultimately decide against texting him. It simply wouldn’t be beneficial for your fragile heart.

A small group of friends has gathered at Rachel’s to watch the game. You’re lucky, or unlucky, to run with a crowd of die-hard Jets fans who get together any time they play, whether it’s at someone’s house or a sports bar around the corner from the arena. Though you tried your best to get out of it tonight, making up any excuse you can think of to stay at home and sob quietly into a pillow, Rachel knows better than to let you be alone and forces you to be in attendance.

It’s a pretty quiet game with the Jets dominating the first two periods. The Flyers are sluggish, not connecting passes and taking far too many penalties. You’re pretty sure Winnipeg has it in the bag when the puck drops for the final twenty minutes of play, so you turn your attention away from the television, picking up a conversation with Christina, the girl your friend Tyler brought along.

Some choice words must have been said to the Flyers in the intermission because they come out swinging. Before you can comprehend what’s happening, they’ve tied the game. The period is full of contact, with multiple players from each team spending time in the penalty box. Your attention is once again returned to the large screen for the final few minutes, and your jaw drops as you watch Kevin dangle through the Jets defence to sink the puck into the back of the net. It turns out to be the game winning goal, and you sit in silence as your friends pay up the money they lost in bets and check their updated fantasy pool standings. Maybe you should text him.

“Don’t fucking do it,” you hear Rachel whisper in your ear. Your other friends know of your past with Kevin, they were around and spent some time with him, but they don’t know how much you were still holding on. Everyone besides Rachel assumes you’re alright – that Kevin is just a blip in your past.

You roll your eyes and sigh, but tuck your phone back into the pocket of your jeans. It stays there – out of sight, out of mind – until it buzzes some time later. Expecting it to be your mother hounding you for not calling in a while, you pull it out. A message from Kevin flashes and you go whiter than a ghost.

Taking the boys out celebrating the big win. You in?

The words, so casual, feel like a punch to the stomach. Why the months of radio silence just to ask to see him like you’re friends? Making sure that no one is paying attention to you, you quickly type out a reply.

That’s not a good idea and you know it Kevin.

You send the message and immediately turn off your phone. This way you won’t have to deal with the aftermath until much later. You allow other things to hold your attention and don’t head home until you’re so tired that it will be impossible for you to think about Kevin’s text.

When you power your phone back up in the morning, you’re shocked to find that Kevin never responded. He obviously didn’t care too much about your absence, and part of you wonders if he was just being polite. It doesn’t make sense, but instead of letting your brain overthink the lack of response you throw yourself headfirst into cleaning your apartment. Hours later it’s spotless, and you slump onto the couch in a pile of exhaustion. You check your social media notifications, a few mentions from your friends about the shenanigans you all got up to the night before and your sister tagging you in a post letting you know she’d like to visit a specific beach the next time she comes to visit. Kevin’s profile photo sits at the top of your instagram feed, and before you can stop yourself you click to view his story.

It’s a snapshot of his teammates with bright smiles on their faces. Each of them is holding a can of beer, and a few look as though they shared a joint before entering the establishment. The photo is captioned ‘glad to be back in winterpeg’ and is accompanied by a couple of snowflake emojis. Your heart clenches inside your chest – it hurts more than you thought it would to see him enjoying himself as though he has no bittersweet feelings about being back. It would be beneficial to unfollow Kevin, but you can’t force yourself to pull the metaphorical trigger and completely cut him from your life.

Kevin leaves the next day for Vancouver. You know this because you watch his story yet again, and curse yourself for grasping at straws. Why must he have such a strong hold on you after so long? A call to Rachel has her driving to your place in minutes, ready to hold you while you cry and distract you from the pain that still lingers from his first departure.

☼☼☼☼

It’s easier to forget Kevin without him being in the city – you do your best, and eventually it sort of sticks.

He no longer crosses your mind every few days. You go weeks, sometimes a month or two, without thinking about him. It’s nice to no longer get sad when you enter a bar you frequented with him or wince when someone mentions how he’s playing. It also helps that he never returns to Winnipeg.

There’s no reason for him to. The Flyers don’t play another away game against the Jets the rest of season, and as far as you know he doesn’t frequently talk to his old teammates. Your life fades into a quiet routine you come to love dearly. The world feels balanced for the first time since Kevin left and you’re nothing but thankful.

Life moves on, and you find yourself succeeding in your career – so much so that you’re quickly offered a promotion. The change increases your workload and doesn’t leave you much of a life outside of work, but it doesn’t matter much to you. It’s a welcome distraction and keeps thoughts of Kevin out of your mind. No one comments on your genuine improvement, but you know they can see it. Rachel is proud, and she’s told you exactly once. It’s all you’ll get out of her so you take it and roll with it. The rest of the regular season passes without you so much as knowing, or caring, and before you know it there’s a notification for an article saying the Flyers were eliminated in the second round. For the first time you find it really hard to care.

☼☼☼☼

Summers in Winnipeg are your favourite. The city is warm for the first time all year and the flowers look beautiful in full bloom. With the promotion you’re afforded more vacation time, which you plan to take full advantage. There’s nothing you love more than hanging with friends in the sun, soaking up the rays, and casually drinking.

The days bleed into one another in the way that all good summers should, and before you realize it it’s your last day at work for a week. It will be nice to be free from workplace constraints for a while, and your friends have the time off as well. The group of you are heading to a cabin on Falcon Lake where you’re sure lots of partying will take place. You suggested getting farther away, but settled on the area in case Tyler’s sister goes into labour. He’s a very family oriented person and offered to watch his nephew when the time comes.

Four o’clock comes faster than you ever could have imagined, and you cheerfully wave goodbye to your co-workers. Some complain of your ability to leave during the busiest season of the year, but most of them wish you well. You put an immense amount of work into your job regardless of the quarter and know you deserve the break. If you don’t stop at the grocery store on your way you’ll be in trouble since you’re in charge of all the breakfasts and you currently only have a half-eaten loaf of bread that could go stale any day.

You’re in the cereal aisle, deciding whether or not you really need Honey Nut Cheerios for the trip, when you hear his unforgettable voice. It’s loud and booming and brings back so many feelings that you’ve learned to repress that you turn on your heel and head to the nearest self checkout despite only gathering half the items on your list.

Back in your car, you dial Rachel’s number and try to regulate your breathing.

“Hello?”

You don’t bother with any formalities. “Kevin is here.”

“In Winnipeg?” she asks, more than a tad confused. “Why would he be in Winnipeg?”

The interior of the Ford Escape you drive feels too small, so you crack a window and peel out of the parking space. Rachel’s voice reverberates throughout the car thanks to the bluetooth system. “I don’t fucking know, but he’s here.”

“I don’t think that’s possible Y/N,” Rachel says, always the realist. “He lives in Boston. What would he be doing in Winnipeg in the middle of July?”

You aren’t sure, and make sure to tell her so. “But it was him,” you swear. “He was in the grocery store.” You stop at a red light, placing your blinker on and checking both ways before turning right. A few more minutes and you’d be safely tucked away in your apartment, away from the world and the possibility of running into Kevin.

“There’s like a hundred tall gingers in the city babe, you didn’t see him.”

“You’re right, I didn’t see him,” you agree. “I heard him. How many tall gingers are there in Winnipeg with Boston accents?”

“Oh fuck. I’m coming over.” With that, Rachel hangs up, and you pull into the parking garage. You sit in silence for a minute or two before deciding your shaking legs can hold you upright. Perhaps you weren’t as over Kevin as you thought.

Rachel spends the rest of the afternoon and evening with you, ensuring you don’t do anything stupid and letting you spew all your feelings, both good and bad. More than one bottle of wine is consumed, but you have more than enough time to nurse a hangover. If you play your cards right through the week this won’t be the only time you do it either.

You wake up on top of your pristine sheets, Rachel grumbling beside you – she’s never been as good at holding her alcohol.

“What time is it?”

The alarm clock on your bedside table flashes a few numbers and you have to stare at them for a minute before you comprehend them. “Just after eight,” you say, sitting up. Surprisingly, you feel fine. Maybe the crippling weight of your feelings for Kevin cancels out the hangover you most definitely should be feeling.

“We need to get going. Gotta pack the car and hit the road. I’m the one who needs to get the keys so we have to be there before everyone else,” she sighs, grumbling something else under her breath as her feet hit the floor.

You just laugh at her and head into the kitchen. While Rachel showers you make coffee and pack the food into the ancient cooler your father gave you when you moved out many moons ago. It has served its purpose on several trips like this – you’ll be sad to see it go eventually. You switch places with Rachel, and once you’re feeling refreshed the two of you stuff your trunk and hit the road.

The drive is rather uneventful, with the both of you sitting in silence, and it doesn’t take you long to approach your destination. Rachel is a poor navigator so you’re tasked with figuring out where you’re going and making sure you get there, but it could be worse. You have a general sense of where you’re going. Getting the keys is painless and you get to work unpacking your overloaded SUV.

“Do you think there will be other people around we can party with?” Rachel asks as you close the trunk for the last time.

You shrug. “Don’t know Rach. It doesn’t look like it.”

She drops it, agreeing with you, and you separate to unpack your personal belongings. The cabin is large enough that no one has to share a room, which you’re grateful for. Though you love your friends dearly, they don’t always know what personal space is. At some point in the afternoon the rest of the group trickles in, and by dinner you’ve all settled and are ready to party.

Tyler figures out how to use the ancient barbeque and sets to work cooking the burgers. Everyone else gets side dishes ready or sets the table, with Christine starting a bonfire. You don’t know her well, only having met her a few times, but your friend seems to be infatuated with her. She fits in great with the group so you aren’t worried about any awkward tension. Dinner passes in a fit of giggles and shouts, and once the dishes are done you can relax fully.

The beer you grab from the fridge on your way out the door makes your insides fuzzy in the best way possible. By the fire, surrounded by those who care about you the most, you feel at peace. You’re yet to think about the sudden reappearance of Kevin in Winnipeg, and you’d like to keep it that way. Someone grabs the beat up acoustic guitar you found in the living room and thrusts it in your direction. You’d taught yourself to play in college, and it comes in handy for times like this.

“I refuse to play Wonderwall,” you laugh, shooting pointed looks at each and every person sitting around you.

“Come on Y/N,” Rachel groans. “Just once?”

“Fuck off.”

You don’t mean it, of course, and strum the opening chords with a grimace on your face. Tyler counts everyone in and they sing for you, which is appreciated. You might be decent at playing, but your singing voice is one that shouldn’t see the light of day if it can be helped. It’s more fun than you imagined it could be so one song turns into three, and before you know it your makeshift jamboree attracts the attention of the neighbours you didn’t know existed.

Applause erupts from behind you, and you flush enough that your cheeks warm significantly. “You guys are so good I hate to disrupt the rhythm,” a deep voice says, “But do you mind if a buddy and I join you? We’re a little lonely by ourselves next door.”

Tyler’s out of his seat in a heartbeat, jumping up to pat the man on the back. “Of course man, come on over! I’m Tyler, and that’s Rachel, Christine, Marshall, and Y/N.”

You all wave politely, and the mystery guest introduces himself. “Nice you meet you guys. I’m Nolan.”

It’s then you get a good look at who you’re speaking to. He seems to be a few years younger than you, maybe early twenties, and he has a face you just can’t place. Maybe you’ve seen him around Winnipeg – the city is small enough that you can often spot the same faces in a crowd. “I’ll just yell at him to come over and we can get the party started,” Nolan explains, “Kev, bud, come on over! And bring a couple beers.”

All the blood rushes from your fingers at the name. You shake them intensely, willing your circulatory system to function properly again. If you had to hazard a guess there’s probably a million people in Manitoba named Kevin. There’s no reason for it to be Kevin Hayes. You’re most certainly still spooked from your near encounter with him yesterday.

“Fuck Patty, you couldn’t come back and grab your own?” the emerging figure grumbles in the vocal stylings you’ll have imprinted on your heart until your dying day. Kevin is here, and if you don’t leave in the next few seconds you’ll be face to face with him for the first time in over a year.

You stand abruptly, not stopping to explain your hasty exit to anyone, and practically run into the house. The door slams behind you and you do your best to make your heart rate return to normal. Tyler shouts something you can’t quite comprehend, but you know it’s probably some sort of reconnection greeting. He’d met Kevin a couple of times while the two of you were together and had gotten along with him well.

“Hey,” Rachel whispers, “You good?”

You hadn’t heard her come in. “Not really,” you admit. “I mean like I knew he was in town but never in a million years did I think he’d crash my fucking vacation.”

She nods in agreement. “What do you want to do?”

“Stay in here forever?” An eye roll is sent your way but you choose to ignore it. “I’m serious Rach, I can’t go back out there, at least not tonight. Every time I think I’m over him he finds a way to make me realize I’m just faking.”

“I know,” Rachel says simply. She really does – as your best friend she’s privy to your every thought on the matter. After making sure that you'll be okay she heads back outside, armed with an excuse for your early departure.

You spend the rest of the night tucked under the covers, listening to the laughter of your friends outside, no doubt in your mind that Kevin is the source for most of it. He’s always been good at commanding an audience. Thoughts swim freely in your brain, most of them occupied by Kevin in some capacity. Was tonight just a one off? Will you have to eventually face him? What will you say? Eventually sleep comes, though it’s fitful and fleeting.

☼☼☼☼

You do your best to avoid Kevin, and it works for a day or two. Tyler has stricken up a friendship with the athlete, and spends more time with him and Nolan than your group. You don’t mind all that much because they typically are out on Nolan’s boat or lounging in their cabin, but every night the group reconvenes at your firepit. The excuses are starting to run out – there’s only so many times you can say you have heat exhaustion before someone stops believing you.

“Y/N, Kevin hasn’t even mentioned you,” Tyler whines one night after dinner. “It won’t be awkward. We only have a few days left, please spend time with us?”

“I’m spending plenty of time with you,” you grumble. “You promise he won’t say anything?”

Tyler shoots you a smile that lets you know he knows that he’s broken down your resolve. “Why would he? If he was going to do it he would have already.”

You aren’t sure if that makes you feel better or worse. You’re glad he’s faring better than you, but on the other hand you wish he’d at least make an effort to inquire into your well-being. Maybe it was simply proof that you were still holding onto something that didn’t mean much of anything. Eventually you’d have to face the music, whether it be with Kevin or someone in the future, so you make the decision to try and at least get used to seeing former flames in social settings.

“You’re rolling my joints tonight asshole,” you grumble, shoving your sock clad feet into a pair of worn out sandals.

There’s a small commotion, mostly in excitement at your begrudging agreement, and you roll your eyes as you grab what is destined to be your first of many beers from the fridge. Rachel slides up beside you on the way out the door and squeezes your hand, letting you know she’s ready to support you no matter what happens. It’s comforting, and the nerves in your stomach settle a small amount.

Marshall is already outside, helping Nolan start the fire. They seem to be extremely similar and you’re glad they can seek each other out when the rest of the group gets too rambunctious. The rest of your party filters out of the house and takes up residence in the adirondack chairs. Kevin doesn’t appear to be around, so you allow yourself to speak freely, loud and unabashed.

“No I’m telling you,” you insist, trying to convince Nolan your stance on Jack Antonoff is correct. “Jack is literally responsible for reinventing pop production.”

He laughs at how into the conversation you are. “Why the fuck should I care?”

“Because you fucking listen to Lorde!”

Someone else is laughing along with you and it nearly stops you in your tracks. At some point Kevin had joined the party, but you hadn’t noticed. Knowing that he was listening makes you suddenly self conscious, and you wrap your sweater tighter around your shoulders. Nolan can tell you’re uncomfortable and does his best to relieve the tension.

“Kev, do you wanna run back and grab the weed?” he asks.

The auburn haired man pulls a baggie out of his hoodie pocket. “Got it right here baby cat,” he grins. “And it’s ready to go. You got a light?”

Nolan tosses him the lighter and Kevin expertly puts the joint between his parted lips. He lets the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling, and you watch him more intently than you should. You’re thrown back to the memories of Kevin’s apartment downtown, where you’d smoke in content silence after a night of passionate sex. The scenes flash in your mind and you’re overcome with melancholia. You had been so happy in the moment, and now you’re in a similar situation but feel nothing. Other than sharing in your laughter, Kevin is yet to say anything to you.

You must have been lost in your thoughts, because Kevin is staring at you with a quizzical expression. “Y/N? Do you want a hit?”

It takes you a second to snap out of your daze, but to cautiously take the lit joint from his hand. “Thank you Kevin,” you say, voice timid. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him since he left Winnipeg for the first time.

He shoots you a dazzling smile and your insides threaten to turn to mush. No matter how hard you’ve tried to convince yourself you over him, that you’ve moved on from Kevin, you know you’re wrong. Kevin Hayes will have some sort of hold on you until you die. To distract yourself from the overwhelming amount of emotion you inhale deeply, hoping that the buzz smoking will bring can clear your mind. You really don’t want to think about what you lost when he’s right in front of you.

The three of you sit in silence, passing the joint in a circle, and listen to the conversation your friends are engaged in. Marshall ropes Nolan into a game of cornhole and he goes begrudgingly. As he stands he sends you a sympathetic look, and you know that he’s familiar with your history with Kevin. It doesn’t surprise you – Kevin isn’t exactly one to keep secrets.

“So,” Kevin says once it’s just the two of you, “How have you been?”

You do your best to swallow the lump in your throat. “I’ve been good. Work has been crazy lately, so this break has been really nice.”

He presses, and you indulge him in a conversation about your new job, though it can barely be considered that now. Everything is surface level – you’re afraid of letting Kevin in too much. Though your fling may have been brief, it didn’t make his departure or the lack of contact any easier. He tells you about his life in Philadelphia and how much he loves it there. Before you can stop yourself, you ask him a loaded question.

“Do you like it more than Winnipeg?”

Kevin falters. It takes both of you a moment to process what you said. Not one to lie, he answers truthfully. “Yeah.” It comes out in a sort of deflated sigh. “But I miss –”

“Don’t say it,” you rush, trying hard to keep your voice down. “You don’t mean it.”

An embittered huff comes from him, and you watch carefully as he peels the worn ball cap off his head and tugs on his curls. “I do,” he insists. “I absolutely miss you.”

You no longer care who can hear you. “If you missed me, you would have texted. Called. Anything,” you say cooly. Everyone else has clued in to the fact that something is going on between you and Kevin, and have migrated inside in an attempt to give you privacy.

“I did. You’re the one who said it wasn’t a good idea to see each other again.”

“Because it had been over half a year!” you shriek. “And it had been radio silence before then. You left Kevin, and I’m not blaming you. I know it’s your job. But you left and it was so fucking hard, and it stung because you didn’t even try. So when you hit me up after that game I knew I had to say no. Because no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I’m still so in love with you that if you asked I’d uproot my life and follow you to Philly. I don’t want to be that girl.”

The outburst leaves you gasping for breath. Never before had you spilled heartache so fast – with a sort of reckless abandon. Anytime you’ve had these types of conversations you’ve been calm and collected. You’re currently the farthest thing from it.

Kevin’s expression softens, and a sadness fills his eyes. “I was scared,” he begins, “Because for the first time in my life I was with someone I could see spending the rest of my life with. Sure, we weren’t serious, but I was going to take it there. Then I got traded and the plans I had went to shit and I was too scared to do anything about it. So I let you slip away.”

Silence fills the space between you. You don’t know what to say, so you focus on unraveling the loose thread from the hem of your cardigan. Kevin shuffles in his seat awkwardly. “Where do we, uh, go from here?”

The question shocks you. To the best of your understanding, you had made it perfectly clear where your relationship was headed. “Nowhere,” you breathe. “You head back to Philly, meet another girl, and fall in love. I stay here, do my job, and learn to be content with myself.”

“There’s no room for us in your little plan?”

“We’ve run our course Kev. As much as I still love you, will always love you, we’re too fundamentally different for us both to really be happy in a relationship. You have to know that.”

He nods. “I do.” With that, Kevin rises from the chair, gives you a sad smile, and leaves. You assume he’s calling it a night, and you wish to do the same. Finally having that conversation was exhausting and all you want to do is sleep for the next twelve hours.

☼☼☼☼

The rest of the trip passes without you seeing Kevin again. He and Nolan left early the morning after your conversation, and you do your best to enjoy yourself. Part of your brain makes you believe you’re the reason they left, though Tyler tells you otherwise. No one asks about what happened between you two, not even Rachel, and you return to the city determined to start anew. Eventually you break the cycle of obsessing over Kevin’s stats, and take it upon yourself to unfollow him on social media. Life goes on.

Things never really get easier. You still find yourself grieving the loss of Kevin, late at night when you can’t sleep, but are confident in your decision to say goodbye for good. Time heals everything, and eventually you’ll be okay.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes x reader #kevin hayes fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites #hiiapl

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troubatrain · 4 years

Text

afterglow - k. hayes

a/n: a repost from my old blog!

You were having the day from hell. You were late for a work meeting, which only ended in being berated by your boss for the third time this week. You were positive she was just trying to push you to quit, which is just wonderful. You’d barely been working there a year, and the thing that you sacrificed for that job was one of the hardest decisions you’d ever made. Then, in true New York City fashion, you were six blocks from a subway station and it started to downpour on your walk home. You finally walk into your apartment, kicking off your now soaked beyond belief heels, walking into your kitchen immediately and grabbing a bottle of wine out of your fridge. You sigh, pouring it and taking it into your bedroom.

The worst part of your day was still looming. You pull out a box, filled to the brim with the memories of your past relationship. You called Kevin a week ago, after running into Mika at the Starbucks a few blocks away from MSG. You remembered you had a box with his, and you offered it to him when he came to play the Rangers. You didn’t think you would even get an answer, and you knew Kevin left things everywhere and he’d just replace them like it never happened. You couldn’t even remember how many ties of his would go missing by the time he would come back from a road trip. But, Kevin answered that he would swing by and grab them after his flight landed. You hadn’t seen Kevin since the night you kicked him out of your apartment, far too livid at him to form words.

February 25, 2018

You were on edge all day. Kevin had mentioned to you when you started dating that he might not be in New York all season. You both decided to ignore that, pretending like it wasn’t happening until it was. You had only been seeing each other for a few months, but with Kevin, you knew it would be him forever.

You stared at the TV in shock, mouth hanging open at the news.

Kevin Hayes traded to the Winnipeg Jets

You didn’t care what the Rangers had gotten in return, you didn’t care about how far away Winnipeg was, you cared that your entire world was just torn apart. You hadn’t been dating long at the time, a mere six months, which put you in a bizarre position about what the future would hold for the two of you. You sat in your apartment in the West Village, waiting for Kevin to make the short trip from Chelsea.

“Babe?” You hear him unlock the door with the key you’d given him a month ago.

“You’re leaving,” You whisper lowly, not wanting to admit to yourself.

“Y/N, it’s going to be okay, we’ll work it out. You can come with me, in the off-season I’ll sign a new deal and we’ll start making a new home for ourselves,” Kevin says softly, baby blue eyes looking into yours as he kneels in front of you on the couch to get eye-level with you.

“Kev I can’t just pick up and leave, I have work and a life here,” You tried to explain, you’d moved to New York when you were 18 and headed to NYU, bright eyed and full of hope, and stayed after graduation, building a career for yourself in the city. You loved New York, the culture, the atmosphere, and on most nights the people. You’d just taken your dream job, and you weren’t in any position to give it up.

“I can take care of you, come September we’ll be able to settle down somewhere else,” Kevin whispers, resting his large hand on your thigh.

“I don’t want that Kev!” You shout, not realizing your voice had risen, “I did all of this on my own, I’m not going to let you just take care of me, you know that.”

“Y/N what am I supposed to do? This my job, I don’t have a choice, I told you this might happen,” Kevin shouts back.

He was right, he told you after your first date that he wasn’t sure if he would even be a Ranger for the rest of the season. His contract was going to expire and the team was in a rebuild, he knew if he had a good season he would be gone by the deadline.

“Kevin, I’m not that girl,” You start, you were upset and you were lashing out at Kevin for even asking you to leave New York, “I’m not going to follow you around and give my dreams for your job.”

“I’ve never asked you to be,” Kevin shouts back, “Can you be the kind of girl who’s there for me?”

“I’m sure you can find her in Winnipeg,” You deadpan, crossing your arms at him. It was the first time you’d ever fought, and most definitely the first time Kevin’s ever raised his voice at you. His face was red, veins popping out of his neck. He was mad, and you were mad that he couldn’t understand where you were coming from. Kevin was more traditional than you, and while it made him a gentleman, it made it hard for him to get that you liked to work.

“You want me to go off to Winnipeg and find another girl?” Kevin asks, his tone harsh, “It would make road trips fun again.”

His last words were muttered under his breath, but that didn’t mean you didn’t hear them. The second the words slipped out of his mouth, you both went silent. His sentence rocked your world. You never thought Kevin would cheat on you, he’d always made it clear to you that he was yours and you were his. But, the way the words fell out so easily made your skin crawl. You wanted to scream, cry, and fight with him for the next day - but you weren’t being given that time.

“Kevin, just go, I’m sure you need to pack,” You say, tears threatening to spill.

He stands in the doorway, debating whether or not to leave, he looks at you defeated and walks out of your apartment. You sat on the floor of your apartment that night, tears flooding out of your eyes while you wore Kevin’s too big Red Sox hoodie that you loved so much.

You wipe a little dust off the box, it's been almost a year since that night. You’d seen Kevin, on the internet at least, not being able to stop yourself from Instagram stalking your ex-boyfriend. You unfollowed all of his friends, and most of his family - only following his sister just because you liked to see pictures of his niece. Which was fine, until she posted a video of Kevin trying to braid her hair when they headed to Winnipeg to visit, and you cried in the bathroom at work. You opened it, trying to even remember what was inside.

You pulled out a few of his hoodies, because his clothes were always thrown around your apartment. You laugh, pulling out the Patriots hoodie you’d borrowed after the first night you crashed in his apartment. You wore it on the walk back, ignoring hollers about the sports team on your chest while you weaved through the streets of Manhattan while you took a walk of shame back to your place. You hold the gray fabric in your hands, remembering the way it felt - soft like Kevin always was with you. You pull out a couple of his beanies, remember how many he would leave at your house and then just buy another because he forgot about it. You pulled out a few ticket stubs, random concerts you’d both been to that you tossed in there when you broke up. Then you hit the two small velvet boxes that you never stopped thinking about.

You pulled out the first box, opening it to reveal the necklace Kevin had gotten you for Christmas. It was so perfect, you were positive Brady’s girlfriend had to have helped him pick it out. You only tried to wear it once after you broke up, but the memories that flooded back when you put it on was too much. Then there was the other box. Kevin had gotten you the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen in your life for your birthday. He claimed it didn’t mean anything, but when his eyes sparkled when you slipped it on your left hand, to try it on in the restaurant you were in, you thought it may mean more than he was leading on. It was your favorite piece of jewelry, the ring was dainty and small just the way you liked it. You were surprised Kevin even picked it out, considering he lived by the motto that the bigger the better, but he told you he knew you needed it when he saw it in a shop window on a roadtrip in Chicago. You drop the box, hoping maybe he would give it to someone else one day, if there wasn't someone else already.

You hear your someone try to buzz into your building and you knew it had to be Kevin. You carry the box with you in the living room, buzzing him in and dropping it on the island in your kitchen. You sigh, hearing his heavy footsteps come down the door, opening it and letting himself in.

“Hey,” You say, your voice small.

“Hey,” Kevin breathes out, you were both nervous which you guess could be a good thing. He looked different, his hair was a little longer and his beard a little fuller.

Suddenly, as if the universe decided to lay it all on you today, the power in your apartment shuts out, a loud crash of thunder following. You jump, feeling Kevin’s large hands on your shoulders when you do.

“Fuck, give me a minute,” You mutter, running into your room to grab some candles. You spread them around your apartment, lighting them until your apartment wasn’t completely dark.

“All of downtown is in a blackout,” Kevin says, reading the news on his phone, “Like all of it.”

You bite your lip, debating your options. You shouldn’t let Kevin go back out in this weather, and with no power on one half of Manhattan, it wasn’t a great idea.

“You should stay, til this all blows over,” You offer, gesturing to your island where the box sat.

“That’s my stuff?” Kevin asks, opening the box and smiling at the contents. You watch them sift through the box, a wide smile on his face that could barely make out in the glow of the candles that littered your apartment. His hands gripped the same velvet box you dropped in just before he arrived.

“You should keep these,” Kevin says, “They were gifts.”

“Give them to someone else one day,” You whisper, sitting on your counter while you watched him, “That’s what you wanted right?”

You didn’t realize the words came out of your mouth. You’d been harboring this feeling of resentment for so long, your entire world was crushed in a matter of a night and you just wanted some closure. You thought you could get it by just giving him his stuff back, but it still wasn’t enough.

“I didn’t want that,” Kevin says back, “You said it first!”

“You asked me to be someone I wasn’t Kevin,” You say, your voice rising, “That wasn’t fair to me!”

“It wasn’t fair to me that I had to leave, but I did,” Kevin shouts, “And all I wanted was for you to come with me, because I love you.”

“Do you think that it was fucking easy to let you go? Or that I didn’t spend months of my life regretting it? Because I did,” You yell, tears welling up in your eyes, “Congrats Kevin you win, I was fucking miserable without you and the reason I stayed in New York isn’t working out.”

You stomp into your room, slamming the door and sliding down it. You finally just let yourself cry. About that fucking night. About losing the love of your life for some job that isn’t working out. About ruining your own happiness because you could just compromise once. Kevin knocked lightly on the other side, finally giving up after what was probably his hundredth time, sliding down the other side of your bedroom door.

“It was really lonely up there” Kevin whispers, loud enough for you to hear through the door, “In Winnipeg.”

Kevin talked for an hour. He talked about Winnipeg, how no matter what he did he couldn’t stop thinking about you. How he wishes you could have been there. He talked about his summer in Boston, mentioning how his sister got married and he wished you were there. He talked about how his mom asked about you all summer, but he just kept brushing it off because he couldn’t tell her it was his fault. Which leads up to now, where he is finally getting to the new city he set roots in.

“-I like Philly,” Kevin whispers, “You would too, everyone there is great. You’d love my teammates, and they’d love you.”

“Kev?” You finally say, your voice still trembling, “What happened to us?”

“I don’t know,” Kevin says back, his head tapping the door, “I didn’t mean what I said, I don’t know why I said it, but I didn’t mean it.”

“We were both upset, about everything,” You say back, standing up and opening the door, “I’m sorry for telling you to go find someone else.”

Kevin stands up, his hands finding both sides of your face to wipe away the stray tears that were left, “I’m never going to find someone else.”

“Kevin, I can’t pick up and run off with you,” You say, repeating the same thing you did a few months ago, “Just not right now.”

“Philly is barely three hours away,” Kevin counters, “I’m willing to do it if you are, because I can’t walk out of here without trying.”

You finally place your lips on his, soft and slow at first. But when your hands found the back of Kevin’s neck, playing with the hair that was starting to curl, you could feel him grunt into your mouth and you smiled against his lips because you knew it drove him crazy. That was the point, you knew everything about him because he was yours, and you were his.

#kevin hayes #kevin hayes imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Note

Can I get 35, 36, 50 from the angst list with Seguin please??? Thanks! 😊

35. “I loved you. I loved you so much but you hurt me.”

36. “They warned me about this.” “About what?” “You.”

50. “I’m sorry I’m not enough for you.”

This is the LAST BLURB which I think brings the total to 26 (idk I lost count, y’all) shoutout to @mbarzals @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys @verdandi-storm @maybehockeymaybenot and the anons who made this a full send team effort because I’m the worst and couldn’t think of how to write this to save my life, but this got long so have f u n

See ya!

Boston, December 6, 2011

Tyler Seguin: healthy scratch for tonights game against Winnipeg. Bruins’ Tyler Seguin will not suit up for tonight’s match against the Jets, for . . .

You couldn't help but groan at the headline that popped up on your phone while you were in class, thankful that no one heard you, or, at least, no one acknowledged your groan. Tyler’s antics were getting to be too much for you. If he kept this up, you thought Boston would trade him. Actually, you knew Boston would trade him. The team didn’t take shit like this, going so far as having people standing outside his hotel room so he wouldn’t sneak out and party.

‘You need to call me when I’m out of calc’ you text him, already feeling the anger boiling up inside you. You knew you were overreacting, but you knew he did something stupid, even after you told him that his actions have consequences, multiple times. He didn’t seem to think so, telling you that your ‘baby sitting’ was getting annoying.

“What?” he says, calling you the second you step out of the classroom.

“Wow, hi to you, too.’

“What do you want?” he snaps.

“Ok. You do not need to snap at me. I’m just trying to ask why are you scratched tonight?”

“I got hurt at practice.”

“You don’t get listed as a healthy scratch for injury. I’m not stupid Tyler, don’t treat me like I am.”

The cold Boston air hits your face when you exit the building, heading back down the street towards your dorm. The wind made your eyes water, tears rolling down your cheeks to complete the upset expression that was already plastered on your face.

“Fine, I missed team breakfast, happy Mom?”

“Fuck off, Tyler,” you say into your phone, hanging up on him before either of you could say any more. You loved him, you loved that he was doing what he was passionate about, but you just knew that he was going to ruin it somehow. You didn’t plan on leaving Northeastern, but he was definitely going to be leaving Boston.

Your phone starts ringing with a call from Tyler an hour after you get back to your dorm, interrupting the studying that you were doing for your upcoming finals.

“What?” you answer, giving it back to him.

“I’m sorry,” he squeaks out on the other end. You wait in silence, wanting him to go first, “I was pissed that I got scratched but I made a dumb mistake so it’s my fault and then when you asked me to call I panicked and took it out on you and I’m so sorry,” he says in one sentence.

“Ty, I get that you were mad, but you can’t take it out on me like that. This is what they warned me about.”

“About what?”

“You. Your anger. It’s not ok.”

“I know,” he says, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

La Jolla, July 4, 2013

“Well, what do we do now?” he asks you. He just got the call that he had been traded to Dallas in a seven player trade, the two of you sitting on the couch of your home. You were visiting your hometown for the Fourth of July. Your entire family was outside, playing, talking, laughing, enjoying themselves by the pool in the warm summer sun while you two were sitting inside, the chill from their air conditioner adding to the goosebumps you already felt from the news.

You take a deep breath, scared of what his answer you be to: “What do you want to do?”

“It’s not what I want but it’s what I think we have to do.” Neither of you can look at each other. You don’t want to break up, but how are you going to stay together when he’s off to Texas and you still have two more years in Boston? “I’m sorry I’m not enough for you,” he lets out, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“What?”

“If I were better then I wouldn’t get traded. I wouldn’t be leaving you. I wouldn’t-”

“No, hey,” you cut him off, “You can’t blame this entirely on yourself,” you say, immediately regretting adding in ‘entirely,’ “This is just hockey. This is just the business of the sport. You’re more than enough, Ty. You always have been.”

Boston, November 5, 2013

This was the first time you were going to see Tyler since he got traded, his first Boston game since he was traded after their last cup run. You hadn’t talked much since he moved to Dallas, only a text here and there, specifically today to ask you if you could see him after the game.

The two of you planned to meet at McGanns, right near the Garden. You were nervous to see him, unsure of what would happened between you. Part of you was relieved that he wasn’t there before you, debating on waiting in the cold that had come early to the city, completely skipping over the fall that was supposed to come.

You still cared for him. He was your first love, something you could never forget.

“Hey,” he says, standing awkwardly next to the table. You weren’t sure what to do, settling on getting up, an awkward hug before you both sit down. “You look good.”

“So do you.” If felt weird. It felt like he wasn’t your Tyler. You sit there in silence for a few minutes, just looking at the menu, both of you pretending that this wasn’t killing you inside.

“I have to tell you something,” he says, out of the blue. You look at him, waiting for him to continue. “I start seeing someone in Dallas.”

You know you looked shocked, no matter how much you tried to hide it. You nod, trying to figure out what to say in response. You hadn’t even thought about another guy, your friends dragging you to frat parties, trying to get you to look in the direction of the hockey team since they decided that was your type, but none of them were what you wanted. None of them were Tyler.

“I need you to know,” he starts, closing his eyes. You had never seen him like this, nervous and all, “I need you to know that I loved you. I loved you so much it hurt.” His words take you by surprise, especially given the past tense. Loved. Not love.

You take in a deep breath, putting your coat back on. “It couldn’t have hurt that much that you fell out of love so quickly,” you say to him, getting up and leaving him alone at the table, the wind hitting your face as soon as you left.

Dallas, September 9, 2019

Your new coworker, Kayleigh, convinced you that getting a dog would help you with your move. That way, you would have someone to talk to while you were trying to make friends at your new job. You took Cooper to the local park, enjoying the Dallas sun while you watched other people with their dogs running around.

There was on guy in particular you were focused on that Monday afternoon, finishing the work you had to take home. There was something about him, you couldn’t quite figure it out. The tattoos? No. The beard? No. Even with the sunglasses he had on, the way he was playing with his dogs was still a turn on for you. All you could do was hide behind your own sunglasses and watch.

You were focusing on your computer, unaware of the dog coming barrelling at you.

“Cash, no!” you hear someone say as a black dog comes running towards you, licking your face before running around with Cooper. “Sorry about that,” the tattoo beard man says, standing in front of you, blocking the sun.

“It’s no problem,” you laugh off as he sits down next to you, watching your dogs play. “Cooper could use some friends.”

“Is he your only dog?”

“Yep. You?”

“Two others.”

You fall into an easy conversation with this guy, not even knowing his name. Something about him was familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. You look at his shirt, a gray dry fit, a familiar logo sitting on it. “Oh, did you go to Northeastern?” you ask, pointing to the small husky emblem on the sleeve.

“No, my ex went there.”

You take off your sunglasses, him doing the same. “Tyler?”

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagines #dallas stars #dallas stars imagines #stars #stars imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl #nhl imagines

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thewebcomicsreview · 4 years

Photo

Homestuck 2 has updated! Christmas is ruined!

Previously, on Homestuck 2: Literally nothing happened, and a non-trivial portion of the patreon supporters gave up and quit. Can this update pull a Christmas miracle and right the sinking ship of Homestuck 2? Probably not, but let’s find out!

youtube

We’re back in Candyland, having completely skipped over Karkat and John talking about Dave’s apparent death, because this comic is only interested in long conversations when they’re boring and not about anything at all. That’s alright, I got the gist of it.

When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.

So, it appears to be morning now, meaning that John’s son has been missing in a war zone for almost 24 hours and I guess John literally forgot Harry existed?

Prediction: This conversation is going to end in some variant of “Where is our son?” “Oh shit!”

ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid

ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid

ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?

What.

So, I went back and checked, and apparently nowhere is it explicitly said that Harry Anderson was also looking for the Vriskas, so I guess he....stayed home? Which makes sense, I suppose, but maybe a “Stay here I’ll go look for them” would’ve helped. I wasn’t the only one who thought Harry was out looking for Vriska too.

ROXY: sup

ROXY: follow me

ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way

JOHN: haha ok.

John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?

Is Roxy....horny? Is the solid she’s looking for John’s dick? I mean, that’d make her saying Harry wasn’t available kind of weird, but I think this framing is a fake-out.

...

What the fuck is that lamp, Jesus Christ it’s awful. Just a cat’s asshole, facing the door.

ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert

JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding.

JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.

ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting

Oh hey, it was a fakeout. Good job, Homestuck 2. You successfully implied something just through the art. Art which, by the way, looks a lot better than the last chapter. There are backgrounds and everything. I wonder if Chapter 15 was rushed out due to Hiveswap and that’s why it was so weak?

He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?

I’m not the biggest fan of the way the narration is going JOHN IS AFRAID OF SEX WITH ROXY LIKE HE’S A TEENAGE VIRGIN AGAIN (LIKE IN HS1!) AND IT DOESN’T REALLY MAKE SENSE PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IT’LL BE IMPORTANT LATER, but okay, noted.

ROXY: u said ur house is gone??

JOHN: yep.

JOHN: completely.

ROXY: jeez

Heh. I like Roxy, still.

JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison.

If this comic actually uses the phrase “home” and “stuck” in the same sentence I’m turning this blog around and we’ll go right back to Winnipeg.

ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit

Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.

ROXY: ok or just like push when i push

ROXY: we both got sick muscles

ROXY: no other adjectives necessary

I feel unqualified to talk about how hard Roxy is pushing the June Egbert thing.

....Is that the fucking portal from Hiveswap under a tarp? Also hi Candy Callie, appearing in HS2 for the first time. One of the Calliope’s is nonbinary, I think, but I honestly can’t remember and I think it’s Meat Calliope?

JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is?

ROXY: hmmmmmm no

JOHN: oh ok.

JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room.

JOHN: space.

JOHN: wherever we are.

ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now

ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi

ROXY: and by that i mean

ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn

JOHN: right, sorry.

JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain.

ROXY: u catch on fast egbert

Oh thing HS2 has not been great at is that it has a lot of plot mysteries that are supposed to keep us enticed but they don’t really get implanted into the audience’s head (Remember Vrissy mysteriously collapsing that one time? Probably not, she did it off screen and the boys kind of laughed it off). This one’s hard to miss.

JOHN: so... this is all downstairs?

JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done.

ROXY: well no not x actly

ROXY: were in the old meteor

It’s kind of weird how this meteor keeps popping up like this.

CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr.

This is an unexpected but not unwelcome direction for Callie to have gone.

CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are.

CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes?

Oh, wow, we’re going right there, then. This does seem like a bit of a reaction to complaints HS2 wasn’t shmoovin’ enough, but maybe I’m reading too much into it.

CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole.

JOHN: ok.

A’ight, that got a laugh out of me

JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it!

JOHN: i'm so sorry.

JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ):

I like this conversation a lot.

ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you

JOHN: listen.

JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given.

Quite a bit, in fact.

ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love

JOHN: aw.

Roxy and John have a good dynamic.

CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.

CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!

JOHN: ...right.

John’s phone has very good coverage, since he was able to talk to Terezi in the epilogues, as we’re being subtly reminded of here with that ... before the “right”. I wonder if it still works after alt-Calliope left.

CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval.

CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality.

CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u

Okay, so we are now being explicitly told that living in the black hole is fucking with the characters and is part of the reason they make such baffling decisions, like Rose not telling Kanaya about Yiffy, or naming her daughter “Yiffy” in the first place.

CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity.

ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point

CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan

CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more.

CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it.

CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak.

CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself?

So, the plan is literally for Vriska to be such a Huge 8itch that the black hole itself gets sick of her and yeets Earth C out of its own event horizon to freedom.

This is actually a great plan.

And that’s Hamsteak. This definitely feels like a bit of a reaction to complaints about HS2, but hey, I dig it, I guess? Definite improvement over the last chapter.

#homestuck #homestuck 2 liveblog

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

Text

Knight in Shining Armor || Seth Jones

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So I had this concept in my drafts to write for like a year for another player (coughcoughSeguin) but since he’s not on my good list right now and I’ve been wanting to write about Seth for a while, I decided that the concept would work great for him. This is mostly platonic but there’s kind of an underlying current of more so let me know what you think of it.

Warnings: shitty ex-friends, lingering grief

Word Count: 2,868

______

Most days you were in love with your job. Being one of the few female television broadcasters for a professional sports team was a major accomplishment and you tried to never take a day of it for granted. You were setting the stage for women in the future and that was a source of tremendous pride for you. You got to watch a sport you loved and see players that would someday be in the hall of fame take the ice. You got to travel to places that you’d probably never visit otherwise.

While the perks were numerous, there were also things that sucked.

Though most of the time the travel didn’t bother you, sometimes you found yourself sick of climbing on planes, sleeping in hotel rooms, and living out of a suitcase. Then there were the emotionally draining things like constantly being criticized by male fans because of course, a woman couldn’t possibly be competent enough to do color commentary for a major sport. Finally, there were the late nights.

Tonight was one of those days where you weren’t quite so in love with your job. You were two cities into a six-city road trip and it was that time of the month. In your haste of packing, you’d forgotten to replenish your supply of feminine products and so you’d had to rush to a drug store while praying that you didn’t bleed through your pants. After putting out that fire, you’d gotten yourself ready for the game before heading over to the arena with your co-anchor. Running behind had meant that you’d missed dinner, however, and press box food wasn’t your favorite. Setting into your seat after touching up your hair and makeup you waited for the puck to drop between the Jackets and the Sabres.

By the first intermission, the lack of food and mother nature’s wrath had left you with a burgeoning migraine. You’d searched your bag for a bottle of Advil, only to find it empty. A quick inquiry with the rest of the media during a commercial break also turned up empty. While the roller of peppermint essential oil you did have took a little bit of the edge off, no matter how many times you had reapplied it you wanted nothing more than to go lay down by the time the final horn sounded.

Usually, you stopped down at the locker room to congratulate the team, however, tonight you just needed to get back to the hotel while you still had the faculties to do so.

Once back at the hotel you changed and crawled into bed, laying in the dark in hopes that a lack of visual stimuli and quiet would make the pain lessen. You’d been laying there for roughly half an hour when there was a knock on your door that caused you to groan. When the knock sounded once more, you pried yourself out of bed and padded over to the door, peering through the peephole. Standing on the other side was Seth Jones. Curious as to why the Blue Jackets defenseman was there you flipped open the security latch before opening the door.

“Hey,” Seth whispered and your eyes furrowed both from confusion and pain. With the latter suppressing your filter words filtered out of your mouth.

“What are you doing here?” You inquired, running the hand not holding the door through your hair.

“Missed you in the locker room after the game. Saw the second intermission report and thought you could use these.” He mused, his eyes taking in your appearance more fully. It was only then that you glanced down to see the pill bottle in his hands. “Snatched these from the training room.” He admitted with a smile.

“You’re a saint Jonesy.” You admitted, your body language softening at the prospect of actually getting enough relief to sleep. Taking the bottle from his outstretched hand you sent him as much of a smile as you could muster.

“Anything for my favorite broadcaster.” He responded shrugging. “Need you back in top form for the next game.” He teased. “And migraines aren’t any fun and you look like you’re suffering pretty bad.” He added, his hands now drifting to the pockets of his suit. “Anyway...take those and get some sleep huh?” He instructed and when you nodded he turned to walk away.

“Hey, Seth…” You started. “Thank you.”

~~~~~~

After leaving Buffalo, the team had dipped up to Ottawa before flying down to Boston for a game against the Bruins. The team had a day off between the two games however and had decided to go out for the night, have a few drinks, and just relax before a tough game the following day. You’d been invited by a bunch of the younger guys and though the club scene really wasn’t your thing you’d agreed.

Dressed in a pair of form-fitting jeans and a flirty blouse you made your way through the crowd to the bar for a bottle of water. You’d been dancing with Pierre but you’d sent him to chase after a woman who had caught his eye and now you were parched. It wasn’t until you were leaning against the bar trying to flag down the bartender that you noticed that someone you really didn’t want to see was just a few spots down.

Ducking your head you prayed that he didn’t notice you, but of course, despite being short, he was suddenly at your side, calling out your name over the crowd.

You’d known Jake in high school, had been close friends and something else that you could only describe as awkward. You hadn’t dated, he’d had other girlfriends at the time but you’d definitely toed the line of appropriateness regarding your conversations. He’d hurt you badly a few years ago and you hadn’t spoken since. Honestly, talking to him now was the last thing you were interested in. You’d known he was living in Boston but what were the odds he’d be at this club the one night you were in town.

As he stood beside you, his hand fell to your arm that was resting on the bar and he was asking if he could buy you a drink. You wanted to tell him to go away, you wanted to shove his hand off of you, you wanted to insist that you were good and to go shove the drink but suddenly you couldn’t speak and you couldn’t move. In that moment you felt beyond vulnerable.

And then suddenly a warm arm draped itself around your waist and you were tugged into the side of a firm body. The second the scent of his cologne filled your nose, you relaxed against him and glanced up to see Seth’s figure hovering over you.

“Hey sweetheart, I have a bottle of water for you at the table.” He declared, tone soft as he directed the words at you but with enough volume that your unwelcome company was certain to hear it. “Josh has a story he refuses to tell until you’re there.” He added, giving you every excuse to step away from the bar.

“Uh...yeah...coming.” You agreed, turning back toward your former friend for just a second. “Sorry gotta go...the gang beckons.” Not giving him a chance to respond, you let Seth lead you across the club to the table that your group had claimed as its own. Cam Atkinson was the only one present at the table, nursing a beer as he typed furiously on his phone.

Pulled in beside Seth, you found that there was indeed a sealed water bottle waiting for you and you sighed feeling your body relax now that there was some distance between you and Jake.

“Thank you.” You murmured. It was the second time on this trip that you’d spoken the words to Seth after he’d saved you.

“Don’t worry about it.” Seth insisted. “You looked uncomfortable and no one deserves that. Do I need to go back up there and kick his ass?” He inquired and though you were certain Seth could indeed kick Jake’s ass there wasn’t any need for that.

“No, it’s okay.” You assured him, relaxing against his body as his arm settled around your shoulders. “Just a former friend that I didn’t expect to see...nor do I ever want to see again.” You sighed. Seth didn’t pry into that statement, but his fingers tracing patterns over your arm expressed that he was willing to listen if you did want to talk about it.

For the rest of the night, Seth didn’t leave your side, going as far as walking you up to your hotel room. Having Seth by your side made you feel safe and as you opened your hotel room door, you once again expressed your thanks.

~~~~~~~

The last stop on your long road trip was Winnipeg. You’d arrived around 2 in the morning and had fallen into bed almost immediately upon reaching your hotel room.

Around 4 in the morning you were jolted awake by a shrill piercing sound. Checking your phone you saw group messages from the boys saying that you all needed to evacuate the hotel immediately. With the timestamps being nearly four minutes earlier, your heart raced and you threw on the nearest clothing items you could find before sliding on your slippers.

Of course, a Jackets hoodie, thin tights, and indoor slippers were no match for the Winnipeg winter. But you didn’t realize that in your panicked state until the harsh wind whipped right through them as you made your way across the sidewalk to where the rest of the team was standing. Tucking your arms around yourself tightly, you stopped by Torts to see if he knew what was going on and how long you’d have to be outside in the middle of the night. He didn’t have any answers to give you and you sighed nodding, a yawn slipping from your throat.

Around you, all of the guys were grumbling, but you quickly noticed that they’d all had at least enough foresight to throw on more substantial clothing. And those who hadn’t...well they were Canadian and probably didn’t feel the cold anyway.

Shivering, you tried pacing around to keep the blood flowing so that maybe you wouldn’t feel the cold but it wasn’t working well. Passing a group of the guys you felt an arm reach out and tug you closer and when you looked up, Seth was gazing down at you.

“C’mere.” He mumbled, his voice showing that he wasn’t exactly happy to be woken from sleep either. “Someone forgot Winnipeg was cold.” He teased and a slight blush covered your cheeks. You could play it off as the cold though if anyone noticed, thankfully. Now stopped in front of Seth, you watched as he unzipped his coat and pulled your body against his before rezipping it as much as he could around two bodies.

With your chest pressed to his and his arms wrapped around you along with the coat, you were suddenly filled with a comfortable warmth and you burrowed yourself into his body as much as you could.

“Better?” He asked and feeling you nod he chuckled softly. “Good. Can’t have you freeze now can we?”

Thankfully all of his teammates were too sleepy to even really notice your intimate position because if they had they certainly would have chirped both of you to no end. Standing wrapped in Seth’s jacket until the all-clear was given and you were permitted to return to your rooms you couldn’t help but notice the rhythm of his breathing, the sound of his heart beating, and the way your body fit against his in spite of the height difference.

As the two of you parted, you moved to thank him but Seth just pulled you into a quick hug before retreating down the hall. It was evident that you were both too tired to say the words but that he knew you meant them all the same.

~~~~~~

Arriving home from the road trip was such a relief. You were ready to sleep in your own bed, ready for a day off. Still, as the boys chatted about what they were going to do with said day off as a group of you walked across the tarmac to your respective cars, the significance of tomorrow’s date flooded into your head and you froze.

“Y/N…” Boone stated, trying to snap you out of your haze.

“Huh?” You responded.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” He asked.

“Um...probably just running some errands…” You said, your voice cracking as you spoke. “And a stop at the cemetery.” None of the boys knew much about your personal life, certainly not nearly as much as you knew about theirs. At your admission, no one knew what to say and you said goodbye to them as you tossed your bag into your car.

By the time you’d gotten up the next morning, had cleaned yourself up and gotten dressed, had started a load of laundry, and placed a grocery order for pickup it was almost 11am. Since the forecast showed rain in the afternoon you knew that if you were going to stop at the cemetery that you needed to go now.

Heading down to your car, you paused seeing someone leaning against the hood. Anxiously stepping closer, you let out a soft breath recognizing Seth’s frame and mannerisms. Beside him was a drink holder with two cups inside and you adjusted your purse on your shoulder as you approached him.

“What are you doing here?” You questioned. Seth shrugged for a moment before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Thought you could use some company…” He expressed, reaching to grab a cup, handing it to you. “It’s hot chocolate.” He explained and though you weren’t sure why he wanted to tag along, how long he’d been standing there or a multitude of other questions, you took the cup from him, taking a sip and letting the warmth of the drink flood through you.

Unlocking your car, you watched as Seth folded himself into the passenger seat. The drive across town was quiet, only the radio playing softly providing background noise. As you pulled your car into the cemetery, already you could feel your throat getting tight and you forced yourself to breathe, using the mental task of navigating to the right part of the cemetery to distract yourself.

With the car in park, you opened your door, turning back to reach into the center console for a stray hockey puck. Though Seth climbed out of the car as well, he just stood leaning against it as you made your way down the hillside.

It took a minute for you to find the appropriate plot, but once you had you knelt down on the cold ground, your fingers brushing over the lettering of the marker partially buried in the ground. No matter how many times you were here, this never got easier and tears quickly started streaming down your cheeks. With the ground solid beneath you, you settled to sit by the grave, your hands laying the puck down on it gently.

For the next few minutes, you talked about work, the games on this latest road trip, how you’d gotten the puck you’d brought, and what you were looking forward to with the rest of the season. At some point, you started whispering about Seth and how he was slowly invading your life, questioning whether any of your family up in heaven had thoughts on that they’d like to share.

Though you didn’t want to leave, you knew you needed to and so you said your goodbye, your until next times, and a soft ‘happy birthday’ before picking up the puck and pushing yourself to your feet. As you made your way up the hill, sobs racked your body and tears flooded your cheeks. Reaching the car, you barely even noticed Seth’s open arms as you stepped into them, his fingers tangling in your hair as he held you close. His other hand gently rubbed your back until your breathing steadied again and when you pulled back, he was offering you a handkerchief to wipe your tears.

“Do you need me to drive?” He whispered softly, not trying to push you into it but needing to ensure that you were truly alright.

“Can you?” You requested and after handing over the keys, you traded spots, sliding into the passenger seat. Seth had barely left the cemetery gates when his hand drifted down to wrap around yours and you couldn’t help but watch him as he drove. You’d never met someone who was so silently supportive, who always seemed to know exactly what you needed, and who made your heart skip a beat when he looked at you.

He was your knight in shining armor and an angel in disguise, making all of the hard things a little easier and the good things even better. The future was unclear but you were quickly learning that you wanted to face all of it with him by your side.

#seth jones #seth jones imagine #columbus blue jackets imagine #columbus blue jackets #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #cbj #028

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fenweak · 5 years

Text

2019 pat/jon fics!

As per tradition, here are some of my favorite 1988 fics that came out or were updated during the year. Give these authors some love, and here’s to more fics and more wins for the Hawks this coming year <3

Canon Divergent

take the plan, spin it sideways by clayisforgirls - E | 45,979 | future fic, GM Patrick

I'm gonna love you til my lungs give out by arenadomatthews - E | 2919 | future kidfic

too shy to say but i hope you stay by brokenlikeastitch - T | 4576 | patrick has epilepsy but jonny takes care of him

Classical Mechanics by fourfreedoms - M | 1595 | Orbital Resonance outtake

Dense by leonardodafic - 2890 | 5+1 obliviousness

We ain’t kids no more by tazernkaner - 4377 | getting together, (lack of) jealousy (or so it seems)

One of Us is Lying, One of Us is Crying by Iamsherlocked67 - 3195 | getting together after forced breakup??

put on a show for me by toewsin (haroldslouis) - E | 4853 | pwp, locker room striptease

Great News by fourfreedoms - T | 3992 | alex & dylan POV, your obligatory rookie get-them-together shenanigans

Make It Pretty by windsthatwhisper - E | 2985 | feminization, crossdressing, embarassed Jonny!!!

Side to Side all Summer Long by whatislife - E | 2572 | sub and slutty Jonny omg, pwp

take this too far (so we can see if it is far enough) by robokittens - E | 6615 | patrick/dylan/jonny pwp

No, I Never Told Lies To You by fourfreedoms - E | 6112 | post-game, this made me tear up ngl

easy does it by robokittens - E | 2137 | PWP

Vitamin K by fourfreedoms - E | 9373 | first time blow jobs

Emerald Green by eams81 - G | 855 | st. patrick's day fluff

Date Night by Bittersweet - G | 250 | date night

Didn't Know That Was a Thing by AnythingThrice - T | 1,303 | ust, prostate toys ;A;

Casablanca (I want to be shameless like the sun) by Caivallon - E | 7668 | roleplaying

Hands On Me by windsthatwhisper - E | 3230 | nhl awards pwp

8-8-19 by CoffeeKristin - G | 895 | established relationship fluff

you won't ask and i won't say by littlelocaldreamer - E | 4329 | offseason fic, family stuff angst

So Much More Than Just Best Friends by AlinaLovesHockey - T | 1129 | confessions

his voice is a familiar sound by littlelocaldreamer - E | 2178 | morning sex, angst

Play It Straight by SimoneClouseau - E | 6223 | fuck buddies

drown for your love (and then repeat) by captaintoews lavenderharry) - E | 1310 | pwp

red eye by robokittens - G | 579 | fluff, established relationship

It Was a Very Good Year by booray (sterne) - G | 814 | autumnal feelings

to follow all the paths you choose by littlelocaldreamer - E | 20,788 | getting together

Let Her Cry by NoSaneMan - 1633 | alcoholism angst

safety first by toewsin (haroldslouis) - T | 1645 | 5+ 1, protectiveness

to desire is to be unquiet by captaintoews (lavenderharry) - G | 2792 | h/c, established relationship

we were reachin', reachin' for the rafters by capnseriouslycanadian - G | 1504 | nostalgia, angst and fluff

Wrong Cop, Right Man by AnythingThrice - T | 1749 | halloween party fic

the only one my body loves by littlelocaldreamer - E | 3416 | size difference

Shitshow by AnythingThrice (WIP)- E | 19,989 | relationship negotiation, pron with feelings

Just Getting Started by allthebros - T | 1814 | insomnia, h/c

Coffee Talk by Kkane88 - 1960 | post-break up getting back together

us two by ishybishy (WIP)- E | 13,310 | relationship vignettes, angst fluff and smut

sun come ease me in by oakshields - E | 15,601 | established relationship, dylan strome is a distraction

in this bed next to you by gasmsinc - E | 2192 | established relationship, post-game

something like h/c by toewsyourheart - M | 1516 | post-practice h/c

A Long Time Coming by the_darklordofall1 - T | 2938 | obliviously dating

reds by yummyda - T | 3392 | daddy kink

Shawty With You by allthebros - E | 6764 | mistletoe kisses

i'll be home (for christmas) by oakshields - E | 7780 | established relationship, christmas in winnipeg

you may ask yourself by littlelocaldreamer - E | 3301 | morning sex

AUs

Today's Another Day To Find You by jezziejay - M | 24,854 | ex-husbands post-divorce au

More Than I Could Ever Promise by Linsky - E | 47,018 | Royalty bodyguard au

our decades in the sun by toewsin (haroldslouis) - E | 21,097 | slow build where patrick is a hotel heir

good form by Anonymous - E | 3419 | girl!patrick, college AU

"of gifts and fireflies" by huntersandangels - M | 46,582 | trust fund baby patrick on a journey of self discovery

old pine by gasmsinc - E | 2034 | werewolves a/b/o, camping

Field of Shadows by allthebros - E | 6515 | one-hand jonny returns with ptsd, established relationship, codependency

where have all the flower by gasmsinc - E | 4869 | a/b/o, animal transformation

get drunk on the good life by gasmsinc - E | 6005 | mob AU, crossdressing

Stand (You’re Gonna Run Again) by windsthatwhisper - E | 13,840 | military, angst with a happy ending

gasolina by toewsin (haroldslouis) - E | 14,521 | mechanic!patrick

Night Moves by heartstrings - T | 10,171 | college au, drunken shenanigans

Chips and Cribs by whatislife - 2034 | mpreg

baby, i can get you in my ride by thundersquall - E | 10,695 | pwp

Pretend it's just you and me by Sail_On, TheNorthRemembers - (WIP) - E | 87,848 | mob AU

send my love (to your new lover) by gasmsinc - E | 9584 | nanny patrick

and then i was like (ficlets from tumblr) by sorrylatenew (WIP) - E | 6115 | assorted stuff but so good

Holla Die Waldfee by ThalassicThedes (50niftiesus) - T | 3215 | magical au

now a soft kiss by cuddlefighter (bibbasaur) - E | 70,948 | georgette heyer's the convenient marriage au

we are only what we always were by windsthatwhisper - T | 2,113 | salem witch trials

Wick: a The Secret Garden fusion by allthebros - T | 1240 | secret garden fusion

Murder, He Wrote by jezziejay - M | 33,241 | murder on the nile AU, patrick and jonny solving crimes and being in love circa 1930 hhhhhh

soft, softer, softly by heartstrings - E | 12,920 | a/b/o, mainly dylan/alex but this was beautiful

spread my dreams under your feet by thundersquall - E | 16,234 | magical realism, friends to lovers, jonny has prophetic dreams (he does tho)

Kitten Sittin' by Celly1995 for hippietoews - G | 2445 | kitten kaner fluff!

Race Like Falcons to Crash and Burn by Linsky - E | 74,689 | bg 1988 only, but wolfverse installment!

Isn’t She Lovely by windsthatwhisper - G | 2497 | wishbaby au | with podfic by captaintoews (lavenderharry)

Contact High by cupstealer - E | 84,918 | sentinel au!!!!!!

Going Five-Hole by sorrylatenew - E | 6331 | pwp, surprise vagina sfshkfs

Its in the past by candy_belle - 1347 | blackhawks convention but make it a/b/o

tame the strength of the ocean by thisissirius (thirteentorafters) - T | 3727 | fast and furious AU

The Florida Job by AnythingThrice - T | 21,398 | genderbending, some like it hot (1959) inspired!

Figuratively Speaking by Celly1995 - 1118 | smoothie shop owner jonny!

the promises you keep by gasmsinc - E | 31,349 | sugar daddy, age differences

do you know who you are? by liveinfury - T | 6495 | college AU

A Sure Thing by thundersquall - E | 45,563 | escort!patrick

Through My Eyes by allthebros - T | 2429 | urban fantasy, psychic!patrick!

Media Vita In Morte Sumus by jezziejay - T | 1089 | just better read this one for max surprise

Wishery by slexenskee (Sambomaster) - T | 24,542 | Quidditch star Patrick!

work from home by toewsin (haroldslouis) - M | 17,071 | personal assistant jonny

hiraeth by ishybishy (WIP) - 1136 | magical au, soulmates, there are dragons?

Marriage Jitters by MrsBarnes (WIP) - E | 4396 | marriage, fluff and humor

Quantum Entanglement by TheNorthRemembers - E | 214,572 | the continuing saga of time traveler patrick

The Reality of Things by windsthatwhisper - E | 27,803 | french teacher!jonny

The Best Gifts Are The Ones You Don't See Coming by Mullsandmutts - G | 3414 | holiday timestamp to can you lyft me up

Fist Bumps are Deadly by palladium - T | 26,130 | bodyswap, soulmates

Ricochet by heartstrings (WIP) - E | 74,152 | young partners in crime au

#patrick kane #jonathan toews #1988 #blackhawks #nhl blackhawks #chicago blackhawks #fic rec #hockey rpf #1988 fic rec

179 notes · View notes

imaginingsoftly · 4 years

Text

Uncle Gryz - Matt Grzelcyk

Type: angsty, best friends, really fluffy ending

Requested: No

Warnings: a couple of swears, pregnancy

A/N: I started this and had no idea where it was going, so here’s some angsty shit with a fluffy best friend ending!

Rain pounded on your hood as you walked across the city, breathing in the smell of wet cement and rain as you tried to hold back your tears. The streets of North End were nearly empty thanks to the rain and the late hour, and you managed to recognize the peace around you despite the exhaustion threatening to take over. Times like these were the ones where it was so easy to love the history of the city, to appreciate the cobblestones and how old the city felt. Matt’s building appeared to your left, and you slipped inside with one more glance at the rain and the moon. The front desk receptionist waved as you slipped past, familiar with your face after so many years of visits.

The trek from the elevator to Matt’s door felt like it took years, and you were practically hanging on the door for support by the time Matt opened it. He was still dressed from the plane ride home from Winnipeg, his tie hanging loose around his neck and his shirt partially unbuttoned. “Y/N?” He was tired, you could tell, his eyes a little less bright than they normally were. Maybe you should have waited until morning.

“Matty, I,” you stopped, pressing your lips together to suppress a sob. Matt swore, gently tugging you into the condo. He closed and locked the door with one hand while simultaneously pulling you tightly into his chest with the other. You shook from your tears and the cold damp that felt like it had settled into your bones, and Matt somehow pulled you even closer. Neither of you spoke as you cried. Matt tangled a hand in your hair. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?” You cried harder. “Okay, sweetheart, okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

Slowly your tears stopped and the exhaustion settled in with a new vengeance. Matt caught you as your legs gave out, smoothly scooping you up into his arms. “Let’s get you warm, yeah?” You nodded wearily against his shoulder, struggling to keep your eyes open. It had been a long couple of days, and your body was just now relaxing enough to sleep. Matt set you gently on his bed, cupping your cheek with a concerned look on his face before retrieving sweatpants and one of his shirts.

“Get into some dry clothes, and I’ll make you a snack.” You opened your mouth to feebly protest, but Matt held up a hand. He had his captain face on, and you knew better than to argue with that. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days. I’ve got some of mom’s chicken parm in the fridge. You’re eating it.” Even in your half-conscious state you knew better than to turn down a Momma Grzelcyk meal. You nodded tiredly, and were rewarded with one of Matt’s smiles.

His clothes were warm, and smelled like him. Matt had been a constant in your life since you’d moved to Boston for college, your first and favorite lab partner, and the smell of his laundry detergent and cologne smelled safe. You’d suffered through Biology together, and somehow the hotshot local hockey player had adopted you as his new best friend. You were both older now, college long gone, but your friendship had remained, especially since you’d remained in the area for med school and then as a doctor at Brigham and Womens.

You were in Matt’s bed by the time he returned, changed and snuggling under his covers. Matt smiled gently at the sight. He balanced two plates of food in his hands as he climbed in next to you, handing a plate off so that he could slip under the covers as well. “We haven’t done this in a while,” he remarked, gesturing at the food and where your legs were fighting for space further down on the bed.

“Kyle didn’t like it.” Your voice broke as you mentioned your now ex-fiance, and Matt’s mouth tightened as you mentioned him. They’d never gotten along, Kyle assuming that Matt wanted you for himself and Matt stuck on Kyle’s trust fund and general distaste for anyone who hadn’t gone to medical school.

You’d just taken a bite of the chicken parm when Matt spoke again. “Do I need to gather a few of the boys and go kick his ass?” You choked on the food. Of course he went the violent route. You fiddled with your now ring-less left hand, and Matt noticed immediately. His voice was considerably more gentle when he spoke again. “What happened, Y/N?”

He reached out to squeeze your right hand, and you stared at your joined hands as you tried to summon the strength to speak again. “He doesn’t want kids. Like ever. Says he doesn’t want my body ruined by childbirth.” You shook your head and stared up at the ceiling so you didn’t have to look at Matt’s face. You knew he was approximately two seconds away from storming down to Kyle’s apartment to do god-knows what, so you squeezed his hand back and continued. “I’m pregnant, Matty. He was so pissed. He started throwing things, accusing me of doing it on purpose.” Matt was barely breathing by the time you were done talking, and his face was unrecognizable. It was blank, the kind of rage you had never seen from him.

It took a lot of effort for you to turn away from his face and resume eating, giving Matt a chance to process everything you’d said. It had taken you days to process that you were pregnant at all, and then the fight with Kyle tonight had been a few hours ago. Honestly, you were still processing everything yourself. You were almost finished eating by the time Matt picked up his fork again, but he didn’t eat. He pushed the food around his plate until you were finished, and then he wordlessly took both of your plates back to the kitchen. He didn’t bother to wash them, and he was back in the room almost immediately, sliding back into the bed with the same cold look on his face. It was honestly starting to scare you.

“Matty,” you said gently, touching his cheek. He jerked, snapping back into himself with a shake of his head. “Please say something.” Matt bit his lip before pulling you into his chest again. He didn’t speak for a while, and neither did you as you began to let sleep overtake you.

“I’ve got your back, sweetheart. No matter what.” You were fully alert again as he spoke the words you’d been dying to hear from someone. “This baby is gonna have an entire team’s worth of good attractive male role models to look up to.” He pulled back enough to look at your face. “I mean, if you’re gonna keep the baby. Which, you know, if you aren’t I’ll go with you to get everything taken care of.” You choked out another sob at his words, gently kissing his cheek.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m gonna keep it. I’ve got enough vacation time saved up just in case, and I’m monetarily stable, and I’ve got you guys.”

Matt’s eyes lit up in excitement. “You’re gonna be such a good momma, Y/N. And I’m gonna be the best uncle. Uncle Gryz sounds pretty good, yeah?” His excitement had you giggling through your tears, and you nodded in agreement.

The two of you slid down the bed frame until Matt had you cuddled into his chest, and he only let go of you long enough to turn off the light. It had been a long time since you’d done this, at least two or three years. Since Kyle. It felt right, a reminder of the all-nighters the two of you had endured together as students and then that Matt had been there for as you survived med school.

He was the brother you’d always wanted, the best friend you knew you deserved. There really wasn’t a better word to describe him to your baby than uncle, because he was family.

“I like Uncle Gryz, but only if Charlie can be Uncle Cheeks.”

Matt’s laugh rumbled through his chest.

“Obviously.”

#matt grzlecyk imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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tavi-hayes · 4 years

Text

challenge one ~ first day of the selection

((i honestly have no idea how i even wrote this fic! this was literally written very very quickly so please excuse me for the quality of this, i don’t have time to write anything better. oh and writing out rps is not one of my talents. anyhow thanks to pia @brookelynnsanders for that super fun rp! and thanks to anna for the interview))

We are all waiting for the gigantic doors in front of me to open, well not directly in front me. The other girls are chatting to one another, excited for this whole thing to officially begin.

I, myself, don’t feel that excited. Waking up alone in a new environment, without any of my loved ones around, hit me harder than I expected. Plus my energy levels are a little low, probably because of the time difference with Denbeigh. Back home I’d be in the store right now, my belly already filled with food. But my life had taken an unexpected turn, and I wasn’t sure yet if it was for the better.

Some gasps around me take me out of my daydream, the doors had opened and now there was a clear view of the room inside. The other selected are swarming inside already, but I decide to hang back a little so I can actually breath in some fresh air.

I slowly make my way inside and have a look around. There are lavish decorations everywhere, paintings, flowers, crystal chandeliers. I don’t share the feeling of awe visible on the faces of some of the other girls. What I feel is more like disgust. I mean there are better ways to spend your money. But why would you lower the taxes for the Illéan citizens when those same taxes make it possible for you to buy that enormous Rembrandt?

Another thing I notice are the tables. Five of them are placed on a semi-circle with the sixth one in the front of them. That must be the table for the royal family. A maid taps me on the shoulder and points me to where I’m supposed to sit. How great, from my chair the royal table is right in my line of vision.

I take a deep sigh while making my way to table two. A familiar blonde is already seated, “oh hey Brooke.” She actually seemed alright when I met her yesterday at the airport. Therefore, I’m glad to be sitting next to her. It could have been a lot worse, what if I had been stuck with some dramatic, overly confident Two. Yuck.

“Octavia!” she replies. It’s still weird for me to hear people calling me by my name. I’m so used to everyone calling me Tavi. And the only person who called me Octavia hadn’t been around for six years.

Shaking the thoughts of my dad off me, I take a seat on the chair that has been assigned to me. On the plate in front is a little card with my name written on it in a very elegant handwriting.

“Looks like we are stuck together again.” I quickly scan the other girls from this table. The only person I recognize, beside Brooke, is the one sitting on my left side.

It was the hugely famous Shala Lie. What an honour it is to even be in her presence.

Everyone, and I literally mean anyone, knows her. Even when you have lived under a rock for the past 10 years, you would know of her banging song simply because it was one that got stuck in your head and you would be humming the melody without even being aware of it.

On my other side Brooke chuckles, “rather stuck with the devil I know than a stranger.”

“Amen to that,” I softly chuckle along, “how have you settled in yet? Are you liking your bedroom?”

“Ohh I love my bedroom. Full of plants and a wonderful view on the garden. How about you? No complaints yet.” Thank god for Brooke and her extensive answers. I appreciate someone who can keep a conversation going.

“The gardens must be beautiful, with so many flowers blossoming.” I sigh trying to find the words to describe my own stay. Actually telling her I’m not really looking forward to this whole thing doesn’t seem like the best idea. For now, anyway. Instead I sigh and say, “no complaints yet, no, though this weather,” pfft, “pretty warm, even at night.” While I give the room a quick scan, I notice all girls have taken their seats. My eye also falls on the buffet tables, but too bad it doesn’t seem like we’re allowed to go grab some food just yet. Then I remember the other kind girls from our plane ride yesterday.

Just as I spot them sitting on the table next to ours, Brooke says, “You don't like warm weather, never heard someone complain about the sun. Who are you looking for?”

“When you're used to freezing winds and coldness, this weather feels like a thousand degrees.” Clara and Haven have worse seats then we do, their table is right in front of the royal table. They won’t be able to escape from watchful eyes. Poor girls. “oh just the other girls from our plane, it's good to see they've survived their first night as well.”

The blonde next to me laughs, “why wouldn't they have? Know something about a secret attack?”

I turn back to face her again, “You never know who or what lurks around when everyone is asleep.” We haven’t met the prince yet, maybe he is some creep slipping in and out of our rooms through some secret passages.

Brooke and I chat a bit more before the royal princess herself enters the room. I hear some gasps again, girls staring with nothing but admiration shining in their eyes. The princess smiles at us, I don’t feel the need to smile back. Instead I mumble softly, “this is gonna take a while.”

“Good morning. I’m sure you’re all... eager to start seeing as you’re meeting my brother shortly, so I’ll try to keep this brief.” Well, if there is one person in this room who is eager it’s me. Eager for some food I mean. The princess continues talking with an elegant tone in her voice. With everyone being silent, her voice carries very well over the room. I can tell the acoustics are spot-on, a musical ensemble would really benefit when playing in such a room.

My band would sound a-freaking-mazing here. If I close I my eyes, I can already see us performing here. Though that would mean they’d have to fly in all the way from Winnipeg, costing a lot of money. Money that some of us have to work very hard for.

Then a door opens, some girls turn in their chairs to have a look. What’s that on their faces? Shock? Fear? Jealousy?

I turn my face in the same direction to see someone, a girl, walking into the room. I honestly have no clue who she is or what she is doing here but judging by the smug look she has on her face, she is not some scullery maid.

“Who is it?” I softly ask Brooke. Perhaps she knows something I don’t.

Turns out she is almost as clueless as I am, “She looks familiar, but I can't really pinpoint where I know here from...”

“Hmmm,” the girl walks over to the princess, they seem to know one another. “Maybe a friend? Or some distant relative?”

The princess doesn’t look too happy, a few deep sighs and some looks between the other girl and us.

Then Brooke jumps in, “But why should I recognize a distant rel- ohhhhh.”

I take my eyes of the scene happening in the centre of the room and turn to Brooke instead, “who is it?”

The look on her face is a bit unreadable, “Don't quote me on this, but I am pretty sure it is Prince Arin's ex-girlfriend.”

I have honestly never been the person to show interest in the royal family and their whereabouts. Though there is something inside me that clicks and a memory resurfaces. Gina’s voice calls out to me, ‘his engagement was called off not that long ago.’

“Wait wait, the one from the cancelled engagement?”

Brooke replies with a nod, “yep.”

Why on earth would she be here? Isn’t this like extremely awkward for her? One of us in this room is supposed to fill the spot next to the prince. Correction, her spot.

“Why is she pointing at us?”

I sigh, “don’t know. I wish we could hear what they’re saying.”

“Safiya doesn't seem too happy about the news....” the blonde next to me points out. And she is correct, the princess does not look happy, not at all.

“Yeah you're right, but the other girl, the ex, looks way too happy though.” I say as I flip my hair over my shoulder, “why do I feel like drama is gonna come of this?”

Brooke chuckles, “I wouldn't mind some drama actually.”

I join her, softly that is. I don’t want to catch any attention, especially not the attention from the ex-fiancée. She has a bit of a weird vibe hanging around her, “I agree, this selection could use a little bit of spice.” As long as the drama doesn’t involve me.

The princess’s voice calls out to us again, “table manners are very important, and before you can eat in front of the royal family, you must be aware of certain etiquette.”

With that my focus lands on all the stuff laid out in front of me. I don’t understand why there should be at least 5 glasses for just one person. And I haven’t even said anything about the crazy amount of cutlery. I feel bad for the people who have to do the dish washing here, what a crappy job.

“It’s like we’re back in school again,” a place I hadn’t been to in years. My school years had been with ups and downs. I seem to have troubles keeping my attention on one thing. Every time I need to focus on something my brain seems to riot, making me remember the most random stuff.

Exactly that is happening right now.

I can’t suppress a yawn, “I could use some food.”

Instead of paying attention, I engage in a softly spoken conversation with Brooke about her passions, ballet dancing and psychology.

Suddenly, she gets up. Following the direction she just faced, I see that ex-girlfriend looking towards our table. Brooke does a curtsy, to which I comment, “perfect curtsy, 10 out of 10!” along with some thumbs-up.

She winks at me as she takes a bow, “thank you me lady.”

That makes me laugh, Brooke also makes a sound. Though it’s not coming from her mouth. No, it’s coming from het abdomen area.

I let out an oops. That same thing has happened to me many times before. And always in the most awkward situations. Like on a nearly empty subway train, where you can’t really blame someone else.

“Oh look I think the princess has done with the lesson?” I couldn’t be any happier, given that I could use some food too.

The girl next to me replies, “I fuck- freaking hope so. I am starting to get hangry.”

Oh she is so great. Someone who isn’t looking at everything and everyone with heart-eyes, hoping to make the best impression. No, Brooke seems to be very similar to me, just throwing sarcasm around like confetti but still showing a lot of passion for the stuff she cares about.

Did I just make a friend?

Before I know it, I have my plate in my hand and I’m standing next to my chair, “let’s go!”

Together we make our way to the buffet. There is literally anything you could think off. From cupcakes and waffles, to broccoli and bacon. What is this place?

Brooke seems to have noticed the crazy amount of food as well, “how am I supposed to choose?”

“Just take a bit of everything,” I say as I use some tongs to grab a croissant.

My action doesn’t go unnoticed, “someone learned something today.”

“It might seem shocking, but I did listen to what the princess was saying,” next I move towards the fruit section, but keeping it simple I go for some apple slices, “well only partly but still.”

Brooke giggles at that, “didn't take you for a multitasker.”

Pfft, why do people seem to underestimate me? “I have many talents,” and many of them still hidden, hidden so deeply that even I don’t know what they are.

So far there’s a croissant on my plate and some slices of apple. I decide to take a little bowl filled with yoghurt and add some granola to it.

Brooke is waiting for me to finish, bless her. Her own plate has some very healthy-looking stuff on it.

We barely make it back to our table when Brooke starts attacking her food, something that makes me laugh again. “This is sooo good. Didn't think a palace would have such amazing avocados.”

I take one of the spoons from the table, not knowing nor caring if it’s the correct one, and start eating my yoghurt. “Only the best of the best for this wonderful family.”

After several minutes of eating, I already feel much more alive, “and now that we've had some food the day can officially begin”

I opt for the croissant, but I’m not sure whether to eat it out of my hand or if I should use cutlery. I decide to just take a bite. Not clever Tavi. Crumbs and flakes fall everywhere. On the table, on the napkin covering my lap, on my dress.

The girl next to me hums, her spirits obviously lifted now that she has some food in her mouth, “I guess the prince doesn't have to face hangry Brooke just yet.”

While wiping the crumbs from my dress, making sure no one notices the fact that they’re now on the floor. Oops. “So is food the way to your heart?”

“Not the entire part - but a good chunk of it.”

I instantly forget what I was about to say, when someone’s name is called. My eyes follow the girl as she is escorted out of the room. The first one to meet the prince, tough. She must make a good first impression for herself, and for the rest of the group. If the prince doesn’t like her there’s a huge possibility he’ll be in a crappy mood once it’s my turn.

“Would have preferred some liquid courage beforehand tho,” Brooke chimes next to me.

I laugh as I face her again, “now that would have been interesting!”

“Then everything would be easy peezy lemon squeezy,” she pauses for a little while, “but seriously - are you nervous?”

I shrug, not really knowing what to answer. “A little bit, he is a member of the most powerful family in this country,” flipping my hair again, I decide to redirect the question, “What about yourself?”

Brooke smirks at me, “so you are nervous.” But then she pauses again and I see her smirk drop, “I am not quite sure what I feel... On the one hand I know I should be scared but on the other... I just feel invincible... You know?”

We talk a bit more before someone calls out Brooke’s name. As she gets up, I wish her good luck. She probably won’t need it. If she is anything like the way she was around me this morning, then the prince must instantly like her.

I’m left on my own, alone with my thoughts. But before I know it my name is called. I quickly pick up a spoon to check if there’s some croissant stuck between my teeth. Then I get up, my mind set on making the best first impression as possible. Can’t have him send me home already.

I’m ushered into a different room. The first thing I notice are the cameras. I flinch, if say something stupid or insult the prince, the whole country will be able to see. I can feel my pulse rise, but before the nerves get the best of me, I push them down and lock them away, deeply hidden.

The second thing I notice are the luxurious decorations. Every wall is lined with paintings. I just can’t with these people. Don’t they have better causes to spend their money on?

Only then do I notice the prince, right when he stands up from the sofa. His eyes go to my name tag and then he gives me a small bow, “good morning, Lady Octavia. Please have a seat.”

The imagine of Brooke’s perfect curtsy flashes before my eyes. I try my best to copy it, but I’m failing miserably. Maybe I should have practiced when I had the chance? Oh well, too late for that. “Thank you, Your Highness.” I quickly make my way to the sofa and sit down.

The prince, the most powerful male figure in Illéa, sits down next to me. I strongly feel the need to put some distance between us, but it would be extremely weird if I would just stand up to sit somewhere else. Plus the whole country would be able to see that happen. I can already imagine the headlines in tomorrow’s newspapers.

He takes a deep breath, “how is your morning so far?”

It was perfect you know; I finally learned some table manners. And oh, did I mention your ex-fiancée paying us a visit. What a catch she is! That does not sound like a great answer. So I go for something vague instead, “I can say it has been very interesting so far, thanks. How's your morning going?”

He raises his eyebrows before he smiles a little. “I think mine has been interesting as well. Did you sleep alright last night?”

“Yes I did, the mattress was perfect. Though I was a bit confused when I woke up, I kind of forgot where I was.” Oh not to forget that my bedroom here is bigger in size than the entire first floor of my family’s house back in Winnipeg.

The prince frowns at my answer, but then he nods. “I get that. Being somewhere new can be difficult. What’s your home province?”

Geez, what’s with all these questions. Doesn’t he know how to have a spontaneous conversation. “Denbeigh, sir.” Sir? What are you saying Tavi? I push a curl behind my ear, “oh wait, I meant Your Highness.”

He smiles a little again, “you can call me whatever you like.” I’ll keep that in mind. The prince takes a breath and then adds, “um, what do you do in Denbeigh?”

Memories of my friends and family resurface, a feeling of happiness and pride washing over me. I sit up a little straighter before I blurt out, “I work in a music store, we have all sorts of music instruments and CDs, records, all that sort of stuff.”

“Oh, that sounds cool,” he says as he nods his head. “What sort of music do you like to listen to?”

“What makes you think I like to listen to music?” Oops, that sounded a bit harsh. I decide to add an I’m kidding, just in case he couldn’t tell. “I can appreciate every genre. Though I think my favourite would have to be rock music. What about yourself? Do you like music?”

“I do, yeah. I like alternative mostly. But I like some classical too,” he says before he glances around.

That makes me glance around as well, suddenly making me very aware of the cameras surrounding us. I immediately forget what he just said, “ah okay, yeah that is cool.” That sounds like a very suitable answer. Unless he asked a question. Shit.

I focus back on the prince’s face, trying very hard to forget the cameras filming my every move. His face crunches up again, “uh, how are you liking the weather?”

The weather, some might say it’s an awkward topic to talk about only brought up when in the need to fill a silence. It’s actually one of my favourite conversation topics. “Uhm, very different from the weather I'm used to. Denbeigh's climate is way colder, with a little snowstorm here and there this time a year.”

“Really?” Apparently, my answer caught him by surprise, “I don’t think I realized that. I’ll have to look into it.” What kind of royal person is this? Isn’t he supposed to be the heir to the throne? And he doesn’t even know the different climates?

I decide to hold back from saying that, “yeah go for it. Back home everyone is still walking around in their winter clothing, with so many layers. And here I can basically walk around in a bikini and not be cold at all.”

That makes him chuckle, “you could but the maids might look at you funny.” His reply surprises me. Based on that draw we all saw on tv, I thought he’d be uncomfortable, expressionless and maybe just a tad bit boring. But he turns out to actually have some emotions.

“And they will be blinded by the reflection of the sunlight on my skin, I won't put them through that.” Because let’s be honest, when is the last time I’ve been able to walk around in a bikini outside? Oh yeah that’s right, never!

He laughs a little harder this time, “please don’t, they’d complain.” Then his face is lit up again by a small smile. His laughter, his humour and his smile are all so shocking to me that I even smile in return.

Before I can say something else, he glances at his watch, “oh.” His eyes land on me again, “Lady Octavia, thank you for speaking with me this morning. It’s been a pleasure.”

“Thank you too,” I say and I think I might even mean it. I join him as he stands up, “have fun with the rest of these interviews.”

“I’ll do my best,” he smiles at me again before I walk away.

As I leave that room, I come to the conclusion that this whole prince guy might not be so boring after all.

#selectionoc #fic #challenge 1

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murlin09 · 6 years

Text

Some pretty good hockey quotes.

Courtesy of John Keating on Fox Sports Detroit.

"A shootout is like a peck on the cheek it's nice but it's over to quickly if you're on the wrong end of it."

"We will talk of petr mrazek. He had the shutout. They were able to contain McSavior (mcdavid)"

"You wanna love winning as much as that my pillow guy loves a good cuddle, apparently. And job one is to score more goals. The wings have scored 2 or less in 5 of their last 6 games. That's not enough. You're cuddling with a draft lottery if that continues."

"And you could make this parallel. A hockey season sometimes has this in common with a consumed quart of Ben and jerrys. One of the main ingredients... is sadness."

"It's like finding a Hershey's kiss in the toe of your Christmas stocking on the day after Christmas. Cool! Getting some offensive push from your blue line."

"We like to think of it this way, when one of us gets a point an angel gets it's wings. It's why a lot of angels are face down these days."

"Opinions are like belly buttons and iPhones. Everyone's got one."

"It doesn't matter anymore because it's water over the damn, the ship has sailed, its yesterdays news, it's vanilla ice when it comes right down to it"

"I don't wanna say it's gone badly for me but social services stopped by the house for a welfare check."

"We know this: Winnipeg can be colder than your ex-spouse's heart."

"Coming back home was a little bit like Rob Kardashian making his way home. Knowing some weird stuff happened there but hey, what's to eat around here?"

#feel free to add your favorites 😂#fox sports detroit #john keating #i was waiting to post this until we were all sufficiently hockey deprived #and then i forgot #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#detroit red wings #quote #nhl

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skiachtro · 6 years

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CHARACTER RESEARCH → BEFORE THE COLLAPSE → EVERYONE.

( okay, i really wanted to release some of these because i’m excited. i don’t have all of them written, but i have most of their stories. )

001. WILLOW :

before the end of everything, willow was a semi-truck driver. she traveled the country, had some good guys in the field. she’d talk to them over the radio all night, always laughing. and, really, she always made them laugh. she’s hilarious when she opens up. humor is what got her into trouble, which is part of the reason she never smiles now ( the other part being scarecrow ). one night, she was driving ; roads clear, sky clear -- her mind was clear. she rested her forearms on the wheel, looked up and out at the stars, mesmerized. she always longed to be free, careless, able to see the clear starry night as opposed to the ceiling of a home or the lights in a city. willow tree, you copy? she chuckles, hand moving to grab her radio, ❝ i told you to stop callin’ me that, asshole. ❞

and as did i tell you to stop callin’ me that. another voice joined in: are you hurtin’ his feelin’s again before midnight? another laugh. ah, that was the good life. the boys, the wide open road, the fresh night air. ❝ someones gotta do it. ❞ well someone’s gotta be nice to me, too -- who’s gonna pitch in on that front?? they all laugh, willow’s face glowing with her cheeks a rosy pink ; she’s been smiling so much her face literally hurts. their uproar calms down, and she takes the initiative to settle back into her chair, resting her head in her hand that’s held up by an elbow propped on her truck door. finally, he spoke up again, this time his voice is softer. but in all seriousness, guys.. you doin’ all right? the same man who chimed in before chimes in again immediately with: oh, we’re doin’ fine, you fuckin’ mother hen. again, that made everyone laugh. the first guy interjects, all right, all right. you can’t blame me for checkin’ up on my crew. y’all know these hours are hectic. ❝ yeah, they are, but this is what keeps me sane. ❞ aw, shit, she’s flirtin’ with you, dude. ❝ oh, my god, c’mon -- ❞ winni and willow sittin’ in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g, ❝ i swear to god, ellis. you’re literally the prime source of my anxiety. ❞ but still, she laughed. she was teasing back, the same kind of banter they’ve always had. i just like that he gave winnipeg such a juicy nickname. winni. sounds so scandalous. ❝ that sounded like a flirt! ❞ you know what, willow, you’re right. winni and ellis sittin’ in a tree-- oh, let it begin. ellis chimes in with, don’t you even start that shit, charlie. willow continued to listen, but her attention was beginning to drift elsewhere. the highway was literally clear, but now there’s a light shining in her side mirror that is reflecting perfectly into her eyes. not great. ❝ jesus christ, doesn’t any asshole in this goddamn country know how to drive? ❞ someone givin’ you problems, willow? ❝ more like givin’ themselves problems. ❞ oh, shit, true. she’ll fuck your shit up. ❝ oh, yes she fuckin’ will! ❞ she replies with a smile and some pep, but this minor situation is beginning to turn into something a little more serious. this guy won’t let off. he’s in a big pick-up, not really a match for a semi, still, but enough to cause trouble is played out carefully. ❝ goddamn.. ❞ pull over, willow, just let him pass. he’s probably some drunk idiot. ❝ nah, i gotta get this shipment there on time. some frat boy isn’t gonna derail me. ❞ it ain’t safe, willow.

-- and it wasn’t.

willow? willow?! their voices echo, calling out over and over and they know something’s wrong. in just a few moments of silence, her world was turned upside down. ( literally, as well. ) it was some drunk idiot ; he decided to speed around her, then proceed to cut her off in a way that she had to make a quick maneuver. she wound up disconnecting from the back of the semi, cab flipping at least once, in a ditch. by the time fire and medics arrived, she was slowly beginning to regain some consciousness. it sounded like she was underwater, the muffled screams of the man who had run her off in the first place echoing in the background. he decided, stupidly, to pull over after what he had done and have the audacity to berate and yell at her for getting in his way. luckily, when the cops arrived, they saw this. the man was arrested. she heard him constantly pleading and begging to them that he saw a dead man walking. he saw a corpse walking. it would later turn out to be true in hindsight, but in the moment? fucking ridiculous. the first firefighters to come to the scene were captain ████████ , and his crew. that’s how she met scarecrow, that’s how they began their journey together into the apocalypse.

+ willow had no one as a significant other during the time of the outbreak. she had a strong relationship with three guys from her work: charlie, ellis, and winnipeg. not much is known of her family yet, but it is known she lost at least one of the co-workers early on.

+ willow enjoyed activities like sports ( baseball, basketball, soccer ), painting, drawing, sewing cross-stitch, hunting, going to the gun range, playing darts.

001. SCARECROW :

work in progress.

002. ABE :

before it all, abe was a butcher in a local shop. originally, he was a navy seal, working for / with NCIS. when word of an extremist group was exposed to his team, they began their extensive search, digging into any information about the group they could find. somehow or another, months and months into it ( perhaps it had even been a year at that point? ), it all came back to hit him in the face. they had his wife, his child -- he was immediately dismissed from the case -- banned from investigating any farther or having anything to do with the investigation. he was assured they were going to find his family and return them safely. well, that just didn’t sit well with him. abe took it upon himself to disobey direct orders, find where they had taken his family, and kill the men who had his girls. his wife made their daughter not look. his ex-wife never thought he was a monster, even after witnessing this side of him, but a part of her still couldn’t help but wonder. he was doing everything to protect her, protect their daughter -- there was no other option. one day, he prays, she will get to find that peace in knowing. in understanding.

afterwards, he was dishonorably discharged. his wife and daughter went into the witness protection program after their quickly rushed, finalized divorce. still love him? yes, always. but they both know what was and is safest for the overall well-being of their daughter. it’s safer for him to be separated, for them to not be associated. he doesn’t know their new location, nor does he know their new names. he knows nothing about them. and as much as he wants to, he doesn’t dare try to go looking for them. that would be selfish. this is meant to be selfless.

+ abe had no significant other at the time of the outbreak. he also had no close family or friends. he was basically on his own. he hopes that some how, some way, his ex-wife and his daughter are okay, that they’re alive -- that maybe one day he’ll run into them. maybe this world can set them free, let them be a family again.

+ before the end, abe enjoyed disciplined work-outs, boxing, dancing ( who woulda known?? not like.. pop or anything, just.. ballroom-like dancing. the man can salsa. ), occasional journalism.

003. LUKE :

luke was around the age of 19 / 20 when the outbreak begun. before it happened, he was taking a couple years to himself after finishing high school. he worked as a barista at a coffee shop in town, and was saving up to most likely go to college. he was interested in graphic design, video game making -- something like that. he really wasn’t sure. one thing he was sure of was ariel. they had known each other since high school, always got along, but only began to grow serious after high school. towards the end of his eighteenth year of life, they began to become romantically involved. they were inseparable after. towards the end of the age of nineteen, they had finally admitted their love to each other. she was, without a doubt, the one he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with. she had a kind heart, looked after his little brothers as though they were her own. they were her boys, and they happily obliged.

luke grew up in a loving home. he was born in the philippines, his mother and father moving to the united states when he was very young due to his growing hearing problem. there was a hospital in california who would take him, help him. cochlear implants helped him fro most of his childhood, but once he grew to be six or so, his troubles with hearing became more frequent, even with the device. due to complications, he had to have the device removed around the age of ten. by the age of thirteen, his hearing was completely gone. up until then, he had mostly talked, thought he did know sign language. once his hearing was totally lost, he began speaking solely through sign language, though he would sometimes speak to those he’s close to in private.

+ luke had a girlfriend before the world died. it was a very serious relationship, the only he’s ever had, and he was definitely smitten by her ( as was she by him ). towards the end, he was fairly certain that he was preparing himself to propose to her. and he would have, had their final days not come. as far as family, the only ones who didn’t fall ill were himself, his girlfriend ( initially ), his fifteen year old brother, and his eight year old brother. they took care of each other well. lukas was ( is ) deaf, but his youngest brother had something that had not been diagnosed ; it was a mental illness of some kind. anxiety, depression, other various attributes.

+ luke enjoyed playing video games, reading comics, action movies??? heck yeah, long-boarding, and he can also play a bit of the guitar.

004. MARIE :

work in progress.

005. ROSE :

work in progress.

006. ARIEL :

work in progress.

007. MADDIE AND MAX :

work in progress.

008. MAX :

work in progress.

009. NADINE :

work in progress.

#* canon. the scarecrow.#* canon. the first lady.#* canon. the young and reckless.#* canon. the quiet.#* canon. the defiant.#* canon. the envied.#* ooc. no diggity.#i made an actual somewhat legit graphic ? fuckin bet #* ooc. mine.#* dyn. the crows.

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