#get your love back in winnipeg

[tojisun]

hockey player simon pt 03 // part of this plot // mlist

i swear it was just supposed to be a drabble w no plot

jo heaves a sigh the moment you slide in front of her, and you would have been insulted if it wasn't for the gentle smile she gives right after. still, she's staring at you with that teasing tilt of her lips and her eyes narrowed in humour, one that you're not privy to.

"what?" you finally bite out, fiddling with your iced coffee, feeling self-conscious.

you fleet your eyes to yourself and, yeah, sure you're wearing the same pants as yesterday’s but c'mon? you didn't get to go back to your place after, well...

at least you didn't repeat your top, and is instead wearing a sweater you've stolen from simon's closet. cashmere, cream and soft, and the material comfortable, if not a little bit loose in the arms that droop past your fingers.

you thought you at least looked like those typical college students in the movies—effortlessly chic in a boyfriend sweater, if not a little haggard because who is not when in university?

she finally chuckles, the thrum of her voice easing up the frown that tugged your brows together. “don’t sweat it, superstar. it’s just that i’m still not used to seeing you be a sugar baby.”

you choke mid-sip, her words devouring you like an angry tide. you feel your eyes water in protest, the feeling burning as you sputter.

“i’m not–!”

“you’re not what?” tim asks, sliding into the seat beside yours.

you grumble, wagging a finger as you wipe your stained chin with your other hand. jo snorts and fills him in, chuckling all the while as she gestures at your sweater because she knows it couldn’t possibly have been yours.

tim’s smile turns cheeky, teasing, and he wiggles his brows at you.

“shut up, oh my god,” you whine, rolling your eyes at them, almost shyly, and you feel your cheeks warming. “i’m not– simon’s not my–”

“oh c’mon, babe,” jo says, playfully throwing her mechanical pencil at you. you huff before chucking it back at her, giggling to yourself when it bounces off her arm and rolls into the floor.

tim picks it up for her.

“he buys you expensive things—” her eyes flit to the new promise ring that you’re wearing. you unconsciously hide it behind your palm. “and pays for your tuition which i’m so, so jealous of.”

“doesn’t he fly you around too? in a private jet or something?” tim pipes up, shamelessly snagging away your iced coffee now that you’re too preoccupied to drink it.

“he doesn’t!”

twin brows quirk up in silent judgement.

“…he buys us first class tickets, not, like, a whole jet.”

see? they seemed to say with the way they cock their heads to the side.

you sniff. “it’s for work,” you mumble, remembering the first time simon flew you for his games.

“i mean, for him, maybe. but you? tell me what business do you have in winnipeg?” tim chirps and you almost want to jump him just to make him shut up.

“sugar baby,” jo finishes, singing. “but i mean, who can blame him, huh?” she grins, her voice dipping into a faux southern accent. “i’d spoil you too, sugar.”

“oh, you flirt,” you trill, taking the opening she offers to change the topic.

tim takes the bait and whines about how jo doesn’t do all those things for him, but jo is unmoved, eyeing you knowingly, but thankfully drops it too.

it’s just—

there’s a whole stigma to athlete’s girlfriends. for god’s sake, they even have a whole label—puck bunny—which is honestly just a dig made up by really shitty men who burn with jealousy . and you know that, but—

you can’t help but wonder if some, not all, of simon’s love for you is because of what you do to him. of what you give him in return. especially since he’s so busy all the time, either flying during the season and is rarely home, or packed with training and other physical regimen during the offseason.

so you wonder if this—flying you with him on the days the official WAGs are not being flown by the franchise, bringing you to vacation spots on the other side of the ocean, buying you everything you used to only dream of ever having—was his way of paying you back for your support and patience and care and love.

tim knocks his shoulder with yours, worry now lining his boyishly charming face.

“y’alright?”

“of course.” you lick your lips. “so did you ever get a copy of the lab sheet from rayan?”

.

you watch from the front seats as the team wrap up practice tonight, their coach looking pleased at their performance. it was still difficult to follow the game, but the players all look content too despite the sweat and their ragged breathing.

they never did know how to hold back even during a practice.

you say your goodbyes to the other people who came to watch, shooting simon a text that you’ll be waiting for him in the parking lot, and walk out.

the cashmere sweater, thankfully, is enough to fight off the cool air and the gentle breeze while you make your trek to simon’s distinct range rover, all sleek and pure black like he’s got the damn royals for a passenger.

it’s locked so you hover outside, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your pants, and entertained yourself with making puffs of air like you’re ten again. it’s honestly not too bad to be alone, if it weren’t for the sudden swarming of your doubts—the very same ones you thought you already shrugged off before taking the cab to the rink.

fuck.

“hey, love,” simon’s voice pierces through your thoughts and you jump, barely smothering the yelp that almost tore itself from the base of your throat.

you swivel, heart pounding, and simon’s beautiful face creases into one of concern.

“are you–”

“si!” you greet, jogging to him.

he laughs and opens his arms for a hug, one that you excitedly give him. you tuck your cold face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, taking in the antiseptic scent of rink soap and the faint smell of his shampoo.

his body is so warm against yours, and you can’t help but melt in his hold, body relaxing at the comfort he brings you.

“you ready to go home?” he asks like the insinuation that his home is also yours is not heart-stopping and world-changing.

you nod, unable to trust your voice right now.

there’s something different whenever it’s just you and simon—your thoughts, for once, are quiet and your confidence in yourself peaking like simon is the only place in this world where you can truly be yourself. it’s not just indulgence, nor tolerance, but it’s pure unadulterated acceptance.

and maybe it’s because of that realization, that flipped switch, that in the lull of your conversation with simon, you bring it up.

“did you know? my friends think that you’re my sugar daddy.”

you feel him freeze, body going rigid as your words spill into the space between you two. you continue to hide your face away from, avoiding a serious conversation as regret begins to build, shame licking up from your fingertips to your ears.

stupid, you think to yourself. why the hell did i bring it up? fuck—

then, simon laughs, soft and sputtering, his whole body shaking as he giggles, choked wheezes uncontainable. you tip your head up just enough to catch his eyes, questions filling your tongue, waiting to be spilled, but simon cups your cheek so tenderly before you could doubt anything any more.

“do i need to be one to spoil you rotten?” he asks like he didn’t just shaken the foundations of your doubts.

do i need to be one to spoil you rotten, he said like spoiling you was the norm. like showering you with expensive gifts and booking you expensive flights and helping you with your expensive necessities was something that boyfriends typically do. like your friends are the odd ones for thinking he had to be anything other the man you’re dating to be able to splurge for you.

“no,” you say, dizzy with the weight of your affections.

simon’s smile droops, his eyes clearing. “was that something that honestly worried you?”

“i–”

the humour leaves him, and simon straightens up at seeing the gravity of the turmoil in your heart. his hands fall to your sides, thumbs hooked in the dip of your hips. he leans forward until his nose is brushing against yours.

“you know i love you, right?” simon asks, his voice quaking in desperation.

“yeah,” you sniffle, honest because god you mean it. “yeah, si. i know.”

“okay,” he says after a while, still intensely looking at you like you aren’t surely anything but a blob in his eyes with how close you two are pressed to each other.

then, his lips brush with yours, so faint, you almost missed it. you shudder at the feeling of it—how could a chaste kiss feel so intense?—your lips wobbling as something in your heart bloats.

you feel simon’s lips stretch into a grin from where they’re ghosting above yours, and then he’s kissing you again, this time deeper and longer. you curl your arms around his neck, feeling like you’re being swept off your feet all over again.

because simon is not good with words, truly, but he’s managed to swing an axe to the cornerstone of your self-doubt and made it crumble.

.

“oh god,” jo sobs in your arms, the two of you snuggled up under your sheets. “that was a joke! i promise!”

“i know,” you say, giggling. “i swear jo, it’s not you, it’s me.”

she looks up at you, eyes shimmering with tears. “are you sure?”

“yeah,” you croon, bumping foreheads with her. “...‘sides, simon’s taking me somewhere to make up for, and i quote, ‘making you doubt how serious i am about you’.”

she sniffs. “…permission to make a joke again?”

you grab your plushie from somewhere behind you and smack her ass with it.

“ow!”

“stop being dramatic—that didn’t hurt.”

[giggles nervously] so uh. 🏃🏻

[laurenairay]

every breath, every hour has come to this - S. Jarvis

Summary: Seth Jarvis was your best friend, your rock, your protector…but could he ever be anything more?

This is my entry for @callsign-denmark’s Luck of the Puck fic exchange! I’ve written a Seth Jarvis story for @mp0625, and I really hope you like this – it’s my first time writing for him and I had a lot of fun with it! Thanks for providing some really great prompts for me to work with.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: some bad language, hurt/comfort, alcohol, terrible date, I fudged the Canes’ game schedule.

Title from: A thousand years, Christina Perri

~

For as long as you could remember, Seth had always been in your life. Two peas in a pod, two goofy little kids, always attached at the hip. Even as hockey became more and more of a fixture in his life, you were right there in the stands, cheering him on at the top of your lungs as his biggest fan. You were his staunchest supporter, always giving him reassurance when his self-confidence cracked or faltered. He was your loyal protector, pushing away anyone that was ever mean to you, including shitty boyfriends. Everyone knew in your small suburb in Winnipeg that where one of you went, the other was sure to follow.

So it was exactly no surprise to your parents (and his) when you followed him down to Raleigh the moment his entry level contract was signed.

You didn’t know what you would do without his energetic personality lighting up your day, the ultimate hype-man even before dates that both of you knew weren’t going to end well, or his sweet smiles in a terrible morning after a fantastic night out with his team. You didn’t know what you would do without his built arms wrapped around you on the sofa while you watched awful reality tv or cheesy movies, broad shoulders perfectly places to rest your head on, and especially waking up after a shared nap together, cementing his self-proclaimed King of Naps title.

Or seeing him wake up from a nap by himself, and his whole face lighting up when he saw you there too.

For as long as you could remember, you’d been in love with Seth, and there was nothing you could do about it. You’d seen the girls Seth went on dates with, and they were nothing like you. Even when the two of you were going on your first dates when you were barely teenagers, his ‘type’ seemed to be the complete opposite of you – so you’d always endeavoured to make sure the guys you dated were the opposite of him. It was the only way to preserve your heart, to keep your incredible friendship with Seth as wholesome and solid as you needed it to be, and not once had you ever messed that up.

Seth Jarvis was the best person in your life and you never wanted that to change. Not for anything. That didn’t mean that you didn’t know how hard your life was going to be when he eventually found his soulmate – but that was a problem for future you, and you refused to do anything but live in the moment.

Speaking of living in the moment…

“Hey Seth, do these shoes go with this dress?”

Living with your best friend really did have its perks – you could always guarantee an honest opinion on your outfit from him.

“Hmm, you can’t go wrong with a little black dress and nice black heels, but where is he taking you?”

“Does that matter?”

“Well yeah, you like those shoes and I know you don’t want them to get ruined by a sticky floor,” Seth pointed out.

He really did know you so well.

“He said he’s taking me out to dinner, but he didn’t tell me where or what the venue was like,” you admitted.

You ignored Seth rolling his eyes.

“The dress is gorgeous but I would change your shoes if you aren’t sure. Maybe those black ankle boots? Not too casual but not too fancy,” Seth suggested.

Incredible.

“You are amazing,” you grinned, jogging back to your room to kick your shoes off.

“And don’t you forget it!”

You just laughed at his shout across the apartment, pulling on the ankle boots he suggested. Just as you thought, he was right. With a swipe of lipgloss,  you were ready, so you grabbed your leather jacket and headed back out of your room.

“Hey, sweetheart?”

“Yeah Seth?” you asked, spinning on your heel.

“Have fun tonight. You look amazing – don’t let him forget that,” Seth said seriously, making you laugh, “And if you need anything, anything at all, call me.”

“You’re going to be my knight in shining armour?” you teased.

“With a guy you don’t know taking you out for a first date on St Patrick’s Day? Absolutely,” Seth mused.

Well you couldn’t fault him there.

“Wish me luck!”

“Luck.”

~

If only you’d know just how right Seth would be.

“Seth?” you whimpered, hiccupping into your phone.

“Woah, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I know it’s only been three hours, but can you pick me up?” you pleaded.

“Of course, I’ll leave right now. Three hours or three minutes, it doesn’t matter. Send me your location pin, but stay on the line?”

You just sniffed, nodding even though you knew he couldn’t see you, doing as he asked.

“Okay, I have it. That’s a real shitty bar, sweetheart.”

You choked out a sob. He had no idea. “Real shitty date too.”

“What did he do?”

You could hear him running out of your shared apartment, down the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator, and your heart ached with how willingly he dropped his peaceful evening just to help you.

“He lied about taking me out to dinner. Instead he took me to a bar where a bunch of his friends were, and when I asked him why he lied he told me he wanted to celebrate St Patrick’s Day with his buddies and thought I could come along. Which, fine, okay, he thought I would get on with his friends, so I went along with it. Most of his friends were fine, welcoming even, but they were getting drunker and rowdier and I don’t mind that if I’m with people I know and trust like you or your friends, but with strangers? No way. And then he…”

You trailed off, groaning at the memory, Seth just cursing under his breath. You could hear him driving, not even caring for once that he was probably breaking the speed limit. You just wanted him here.

“What did he do?”

“He started getting handsy. Slapping my ass, pulling me into his body with an arm around my waist, all of that shit, making his friends laugh even though it was obvious I was uncomfortable. But then he grabbed at my boobs and-”

“He fucking what?”

Over all the years of Seth protecting you from nasty dates and boyfriends, you’d never heard him so angry. Never.

“He groped me, in front of everyone. But I shoved him away immediately, I swear!” you insisted.

“Hey, I believe you sweetheart. I know that stuff makes you uncomfortable. I swear I’m going to kill him, I’ll-”

“No, no, I don’t want you to get in trouble, okay? I left the bar already,” you said firmly.

“You left the bar? But your location says…”

“I’m outside the bar, still in eyesight of the bouncer just in case, but I’m outside. I walked out the bar because I couldn’t stand to be near him after him threw the remainder of his beer at me for rejecting him.”

“He fucking what?!”

Okay, that was the angriest you’d ever heard him.

“Told you he was a shitty date,” you mumbled, sniffing again as your eyes stung with tears once more.

“This is not your fault. He was an absolute asshole and none of this is on you.”

“Just my luck, right?” you said, huffing out a bitter laugh.

Seth just cursed under his breath again, continuing to mutter about how men were shit and you deserved better and all the things that usually would put such a smile on your face…but right now it just made you want to be home, safe with him, curled up in his arms. Nothing felt better than being with Seth and it was only because of the few drinks that you had that you allowed yourself to think like this. Thankfully, it couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes before you saw a familiar car screeching into the parking lot, and you finally felt like you could breathe.

He pulled to a stop only metres away from you, and you wasted no time in walking over to him, even as he got out of the car and slammed his door shut, jogging over to meet you halfway.

“Shit, sweetheart, look at you,” Seth scowled.

You groaned softly as he took in your blurred mascara and beer-soaked top, and grabbed his hand to break his attention.

“Can we just go? I want to get as far away from here as possible.”

You rested a hand on his chest, gently guiding him backwards towards his car, out of earshot of the bouncer and anyone else who deigned to leave, Seth’s fuming expression never leaving the dive bar you were walking away from.

“Is he still inside? Is that asshole still in there?” Seth demanded.

“Hey, no, come on, leave it. He’s not worth it,” you pleaded.

“He doesn’t get to treat you like that and get away with it. No-one gets to treat you like that, you hear me? No-one.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and your body thrummed with heat at his furious words, his eyes wild in a way you’d only ever seen on the ice. His fists were clenched, his nostrils were flared, and his shoulders were squared, all the while his cheeks flushing with anger as well. It was only the brief flash of desperation across his face that let you know he wasn’t mad at you – no, this was Seth’s protective side coming out in full force, dialled up to 1000.

“Seth, I…”

You trailed off, running a hand through your hair as you struggled to find words to defend yourself, relying in his car to lean against and keep you upright. He might not have been mad at you, but it still didn’t feel good to know that your situation was making him react like this.

“It’s not like I go out of my way to date assholes,” you eventually managed, “they just seem to find me.”

“Shit, sweetheart, I’m not accusing you of anything. I just…”

He cut himself off, seeming to need a moment to think, and you waited silently for him to give you something. Anything. Eventually he cleared his throat, the wildness in his eyes replaced by an anguish that made your heart ache.

“I can’t take it anymore. I just wish you’d see what you could have, right in front of you.”

What?

What was he talking about?

Right in front of you?

The more seconds the silence stretched on, the more your confused thoughts swirled and the more frustrated Seth looked, until he groaned in frustration.

“I’m talking about me,” he said through gritted teeth, looking like he wanted to be literally anywhere else.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh shit.

“You?” you repeated, your voice cracking.

“Yeah and now I wish I’d never said a damn thing so can we please pretend that you’re really drunk instead of tipsy, and never talk about it again?” Seth muttered, avoiding your eyes.

As all of his words started to sink in, you found yourself shaking your head as decades-buried hope dared to surface.

“You’ve never said anything at all! You like me?” you said, needing him to say it again.

Seth huffed out a laugh, still not looking particularly comfortable.

“How could I say anything? I’m nothing like any of the guys you’ve ever dated,” he muttered.

“Because I purposely date guys that are nothing like you!” you shot back.

“What?”

You groaned as embarrassed heat filled your cheeks, turning your head away to give you a chance to save a scrap of dignity, but then Seth’s hand was cupping your face, gently turning you back to look at him properly. Never had he touched you like this, so delicately and with such purpose. His eyes were a storm, barely giving you anything to go on outside of the intensity, and it was all you could do to let out a shaky breath as he dropped his hand but stepped a little closer.

“I’m going to need you to give me a bit more than that, sweetheart,” Seth said, barely more than a murmur, edge of his voice a little rough, “What do you mean?”

“I purposely date guys that are nothing like you…because you’ve had my heart for longer than I care to remember. I never thought you could ever be interested in me because of the girls you date, and the thought of dating someone even a little bit similar to you was heartbreaking, so I just…went for the complete opposite. Clearly it’s been working out really well,” you said, choking off a bitter laugh as you finished.

Seth’s lips parted in surprise, and for once he was stunned into silence. It was only the fact that he hadn’t moved to step away that saved you from wanting to curl into a ball on the cold ground. Still, that didn’t stop the anguish from building inside of you like a volcano ready to erupt at the slightest provocation.

Eventually he let out a shaky breath, smiling weakly.

“We’ve wasted so much time,” he said softly, shaking his head.

What?

“We…have?” you asked, still in disbelief.

“We have.” Seth nodded, smiling at you in a way that encouraged you to finally smile back at him, giddy without being able to stop yourself, “You’re my goddamned soulmate, how could I ever want anyone but you? And knowing now that you’ve felt the same way all this time? It’s everything. I wish I could say I’ve been playing the long game but honestly I never thought you’d ever want me back. But we need to put a pin in this conversation until tomorrow.”

What? Why?

You didn’t know what was showing on your face but it made Seth laugh – a little deliriously, maybe, but a bright laugh that you were so used to all the same.

“You’ve been drinking, sweetheart. You’ve literally just ended a bad date covered in beer, as well as had quite an emotional night,” Seth explained.

“That still won’t change how I feel about you in the morning,” you pointed out.

His smile turned a little bashful, but definitely pleased, making the butterflies in your stomach riot.

“Then I look forward to hearing you say it again tomorrow. Just…let me take you home? Away from this gritty old bar parking lot?”

You nodded without hesitation, making him huff out a laugh again but take your hands.

“Take me home, Seth,” you murmured, squeezing his hands, barely able to believe the words coming out of your mouth.

With Seth’s wide grin, it looked like he could barely believe it either.

“We’re going to be amazing, you just wait.”

[cellythefloshie]

;; You Are In Love

Dedicated to @senditcolton for her birthday bingo!

Summary: When your best friend Luc needs a plus one for his wedding, you don't question it. Even if the key term of pretending to be his girlfriend begs to be questioned.

Nicole's Bingo Card Tropes: Friends to Lovers | Wedding Season | Only One Bed | Argument Scene | Fake Dating | “Don’t you trust me?” | Playlists as a Love Language

Kinks & TW: unprotected sex (are we surprised?), mild choking, intoxication

Word Count: 11k+

A/N:  I refused to be too late with posting this, so I stayed up late to finish writing it. Fair warning, it's not edited. So there are probably going to be some grammatical and spelling errors throughout. Now, with those cautions aside... Happy Birthday Nicole! I hope you had a wonderful day! Thank you for being such a wonderful part of the hockey rpf community! I hope you enjoy this mess of a fic that I threw together for you - and I apologize if it feels rushed. I know if I took the time this fic could have easily ended up being a whole novel.

Playlist.

Act 1. 

Moving the prongs of your fork in circles around your plate, you pushed the contents that remained along the glass. You didn’t quite have the stomach to finish it, but couldn’t bring yourself to tell Luc you weren’t going to finish your plate. If you sat there long enough, if you held the casual conversation long enough, maybe you’d be able to finish it. But not even Luc had managed to clear his plate. Which you didn’t let go unnoticed. Luc had a routine, even during his off-season, and that included eating enough to maintain his busy training schedule. 

That was your first clue that something wasn’t right. The second clue was that he hadn’t met your eyes since the two of you sat down to eat at the island in his kitchen. Instead, you found his eyes staring out the grand glass window overlooking Downtown Winnipeg. You had thought he might have been distracted by the bumper-to-bumper traffic down Portage Avenue as every nine-to-five worker headed out to their cabin for the weekend, or maybe the wail of the sirens that were so frequent you almost didn’t hear them anymore. That was until you saw his gaze flicker over your features for but a moment before falling to his plate. He too was just pushing around what remained. 

Lowering your fork to rest across your plate, you pushed up to lean across the kitchen island, a little closer to your best friend. “Something on your mind?”

Your question drew his bright gaze back up to you, the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk that was framed by the mustache you had been trying to convince him to get rid of or at the very least blend into the rest of his beard. But not even his awkward mustache could distract you from his small smile as he pushed up from his seat and made the few steps that carried him to his fridge. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Luc started slowly, piquing your interest and drawing a soft oh from your lips as you pushed your plate aside so you could rest your elbows on the countertop. He stood with his back to you for a moment, and you could see the muscles of his back grow tense as he reached up to pull a single piece of paper from beneath a magnet on the fridge. He only had to turn around to be able to toss the thick white cardstock down, the very weight of the paper and the flick of his wrist giving it enough of a push to send it drifting into your reach. 

It was an invitation, the text was a beautiful gold cursive and the paper itself was embossed with a beautiful floral pattern that was synonymous with a wedding. You traced your fingers over it slowly, your eyes dragging the two names that were only familiar to you because of Luc. He had spoken of the wedding when he had first received the invitation months ago. He and his girlfriend were to take the trip to Montreal together. But Luc was single now, and the wedding date was a mere week away. 

“I want you to come with me,” his words were a statement, not a question as he leaned back against the fridge, as if the distance between you both would make it less likely for you to reject his offer. 

It was a statement that left you staring at him, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, “No, no I shouldn’t.” Your hands raised, shaking from side to side as you offered your careful rejection. Then your lips fell into a ramble of excuses, “It’s really short notice. I won’t know anyone there and I would have anything to wear to something like-” 

As you rambled you looked around his kitchen at anything but him. So you didn’t notice as Luc left where he leaned against the fridge and rounded the counter to stand at your side. There he coaxed you to silence with the softness of his name on his tongue and the careful touch of his hands on each side of your face. His warm touch spread over your cheeks and carefully guided your face to look up at his. 

“I already have the plane tickets,” his words were soft, his eyes staring right down into yours as you pouted up at him, “and I will buy you a dress for the wedding. And one for the rehearsal dinner too, even if you like.”

“Rehearsal dinner?”

“Yeah,” his smile was a little crooked now as he was about to reveal just how busy your weekend would be if you agreed to go, “I’m in the wedding party and I ah-”

“You what, Luc?” you questioned, your voice firm. What wasn’t he telling you?

“And I told them I would be bringing my girlfriend.”

“Luc!” You shouted at him, your eyes going wide. 

He didn’t need to put it into words, you knew exactly what he was suggesting without saying it. Pierre-Luc Dubois, your best friend since he arrived in Winnipeg after a literal run-in at the airport, not only wanted you to be his date to a wedding in Montreal, he wanted you to pretend to be his girlfriend. Just the proposition of it all made your hands sweat. You weren’t girlfriend material. At least not NHL girlfriend material. You didn’t fit the stereotypical cookie-cutter mold that came to mind when you thought of a WAG - even if you knew those stereotypes weren’t always true. Being Luc’s friend, you had the luxury of meeting a handful of the Jet’s wives and girlfriends and they quickly challenged every belief you had about what they were supposed to be prior. Though, you would be lying if there weren’t a few that were the very embodiment of what a hockey WAG was believed to be. Which wasn’t always a bad thing. And maybe, just maybe, pretending to be one would be fun. 

“Okay,” you sighed after a moment of leaving him hanging in the silence of your contemplation, “I’ll come.”

With your words, you could practically see the tension leave his shoulder. They seemed to fall away from his neck and ears as his hands left the hot skin of your cheeks. But his touch didn’t leave you. His hand instead found your back as his arms would around you in a thankful embrace that echoed the thanks in his words as he spoke them into your hair. 

Act 2. 

Growing up in Winnipeg, you didn’t know all that much about Montreal. You knew what your school taught you; that French was their first language and there were often discussions about how they wanted to be their own country but beyond that you knew nothing about it, which terrified you as the plane made its landing in the historic city. That terror sunk further into your gut when Luc led you out into the airport where you quickly discovered your beginner-level French wouldn’t cut it. 

The rush of the French language being spoken so fluently around you left your head spinning and your stomach in knots. If you were alone, you surely would have thrown up and caught a flight back home, but Luc was your anchor. Your savior, as he reached out for your arm and kept you close as the two of you navigated through the airport and the city together. 

Luc spoke so you didn’t have to, the French leaving his lips so fluently it left you jealous. While, if you wanted to say anything there would be a long pause as you thought about what exactly you had to say. Even then, it was probably wrong, and you knew it was when Luc would give you a crooked smile and his eyes would water as he held back a chuckle that was threatening to creep up his throat. He did it in the cab, and again in the hotel lobby as you tried to keep up with the conversation at the check-in desk. But he didn’t comment on it until you were alone in the elevator, making the ascent up to your floor. 

“You know, you don’t have to force yourself to speak French, especially with me while we’re here. I have no issue with translating for you,” his words were kind, but they still tied your stomach into knots - or maybe that was just how quickly the elevator seemed to rise from the ground up. 

“It’s that bad, huh?” You tried to hide your insecurity, but your own voice betrayed you. It had broken as you spoke, and that alone only brought you more embarrassment. It left your palms sweaty and had the handle of your bag slipping from your hold. It fell to the ground in an awkward clamor, leaving you flinching and apologizing as you reached out for it, but Luc’s hands beat you there. 

He would be carrying your bags the rest of the way. 

“You’re doing your best,” Luc assured as the elevator chimed, you had reached your floor. 

He continued to speak as he led the way, “but you’re here as a favor to me. The least I can do is assure that you are enjoying yourself, and you can’t do that if you’re constantly trying to figure out what needs to be said.”

You stood behind Luc with your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes on his feet. You used them as your guide, not once looking up at him because you hated that he was right. The entire trip was going to be a struggle if you didn’t look to him for his help, but the last thing you wanted was to have to rely on a man’s help to do anything. You had gone years without a boyfriend. Years without needing a man to do anything for you, but now you needed Luc just to get through the simplest interactions. And it left you pouting. 

“I don’t want your help,” you pouted at him, following in his wake as he opened the room’s door and led the way inside. 

“Keyword, want,” Luc sighed, and you heard him place the bags down on the floor, “but you do need it,” he said your name so softly it had your gaze rising from the floor in search of his face. 

Your eyes didn’t find Luc, they had been quickly distracted by the simple elegance of the room and the one bed that had been placed at the center of a beautiful accent wall. You looked around quickly. The room was small, with a grand window just beyond the bed, and a television on the opposite wall. Then there were two doors. One that would open up to a  small closet and the other for the bathroom.

You swallowed hard, your eyes rolling back as you let out an exasperated sigh, “One bed? Really?” 

You shouldn’t have been so surprised. He hadn’t been single when he originally made the reservations, and you couldn't blame him for not requesting an updated room. You were both adults. You both knew where your boundaries had been set. And while you were playing pretend, you were friends. Luc respected you. You knew he did. If he didn’t, he would have tried to pull something stupid with you a long time ago. 

Yet, your stomach was left fluttering the nervous butterflies at the thought of having to sleep beside him. The thought of having to feel the warmth of his body so close to yours-

And you felt it then, pulling you from your thoughts before they could spiral as he came to stand behind you. Luc’s body was warm, so warm that you could feel it radiating against your own body before you could feel the touch of his hands against your arms. His touch dragged down in a reassuring caress before you could feel the strength of his chest brush against your back as you both stood together, looking over the king-sized bed. 

“Don’t you trust me?” He punctuated the question with your name, his words teasing as he reached up and took your jaw in the hold of one hand. Luc guided your gaze back to look at him, his face so close to yours you could feel his hot exhale as you muttered out a simple, “I trust you.” 

“Good,” Luc breathed out, then guided your head to the side just enough to place a sweet kiss on your cheek before every part of you was void of his touch and his heat as he returned to the bags, “because I was not going to offer to sleep on the floor.”

“Wow,” you gasped to mock him, “such a gentleman.” 

“I’m going to be on my best behavior for you this weekend,” he promised with a grin that left you wondering how close to lying he may be. Luc always did like to cause a little trouble, “but only if you start getting ready, we have to be at the rehearsal in just over an hour.”

Raising a brow at him, you looked at an invisible watch on your wrist, “I don’t know, Luc. I can’t get ready for such an important function in less than an hour.”

“You just have to change into your dress-”

“And do my makeup, and fix my hair, and-”

Luc stood up, taking a single stride to bring him to stand toe to toe with you. His bright eyes narrowed, his stare dragging over your face as he tried to compose himself, but you could see the smile that tried to creep up at the corner of his lips as he spoke, “Just get changed before I have to drag you down to a Taxi. Besides, you look great.”

And he wasn’t wrong. You did look great. You had gone to the salon the day before to get your hair and nails done just for the occasion. The stylist had given you a tight curl, something that when you slept on it the curls would still be there but softened. You wouldn’t have to do much more than smooth out a flyaway. And you’d keep your makeup simple. Mascara, eye shadow, lipstick, and brows were all soft and natural. It would only take you a few minutes, but you still took the opportunity to tease him and be a little dramatic for the fun of it. You expected him to threaten to rush you out like he had, but what you hadn’t expected was the compliment. And it left you biting down on your tongue, unsure of how to accept it from him. 

“That’s what the beauty sleep on the plane gifted me,” you joked after a minute of contemplation as you slipped into the bathroom, out of sight. 

Luc mocked you with exaggerated snores as the two of you got ready in separate rooms. You were in the bathroom, while he remained in the main room. You didn’t need more than five minutes in front of the mirror with your makeup bag. Everything going on flawlessly for the first time probably ever. But when it came to putting on your dress, you struggled to reach the zipper that ran up the center of your back. 

“I hate to do this but-” you spoke as you came to stand in the doorway, but your tongue seemed to swell before you could get your full sentence out. 

Luc was leaning back against the dresser, his suit pants undone and his belt threatening to bring them down the length of his legs if the weight of the buckle dipped down a little too low, and he had yet to button up his pale dress shirt. It hung off his shoulder, his bare chest on full display, right down the treasure trail that ran down his abdomen and disappeared behind the waistband of his boxer briefs. 

“What was that?” Luc’s hands were trying to fix his tie that had become unmanageable in his suitcase. But you barely noticed the silken fabric, you were too caught up in how his muscles tensed with his every moment. It left your skin hot, you could only hope you weren’t blushing. 

“I’ll help you with your tie if you zip up my dress,” you offered, your words softer, less playful than you had intended them to be when you first entered the room. 

“Can you tie one of these?” Luc arched his brow. 

“You can’t?”

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes leaving you to glance anywhere else before he pushed up from the dresser. You couldn’t tell if Luc was embarrassed, or if he was just being kind and looking away from you as you struggled to keep the unzipped dress held against your body with the clutch of your own hands over your breasts. You clutched the fabric to your chest. Your own grip amplified your own cleavage as you went braless for the dress. It was a risk but also a comfort. But you couldn’t help but wonder if that was the very reason that Luc was so hesitant to be near you. 

Your friendship with Luc in many ways was still young, even if the two of you were close. But that meant the two of you had a lot of firsts left to experience together, including some things you didn’t think you’d ever experience together, which included pretending to be his girlfriend and standing in front of him so vulnerably in the middle of the hotel room. Clutching your dress a little tighter on his approach you stiffened up and stepped out of the doorway to give Luc room to stand behind you. And you held your breath as his hands found the zipper of your dress. One pinching the sleek pull tab while the other made sure it guided effortlessly up the zipper’s teeth instead of pinching your skin. 

His fingers dragged over your skin as the zipper traveled up, stopping only when the zipper had reached the very top and they were left to graze over your flesh. You could feel as the pads of his fingers stroked over you, in a way that you were sure was done without thought. Moving up until they found your hairline. Then, he followed it, finding where you had your hair thrown over one shoulder before fixing it to hang down your back. Even then his touch seemed to linger, leaving your breath held in your chest as your eyes fell to the floor. 

Luc had never touched you like that before. 

So carefully. 

So slowly. 

Hell, had he ever really touched you? 

Sure, the two of you had shared the occasional hug. Your hands would bump and collide on occasion. When the confines were close, you could feel the heat of his body. And he was never shy about taking your head in his hands when you weren’t listening to him or he wanted to assure you that you were okay, but this? This was different. This was his skin against yours. His fleeting touch in places you were sure he hadn’t even thought of touching you before. And it lingered as you stepped forward, cleared your throat, and reached a near trembling hand out for his tie that lay limp over the end of the dresser. 

It was only with it in your hands, distracted by the silken material that you found your composure. Then, you showed Luc how to tie his tie, pausing on occasion to make sure he was paying attention because you were only going to help him with this once. 

If there was one thing you were good at, it was faking your way through awkward situations. You could put on a smile, and hide any feeling of awkwardness with false confidence with ease. And you couldn’t have been more grateful for that as you found yourself consumed by the rehearsal dinner. You had hoped that you would have been nothing more than a fly on the wall. That you could make your pleasantries with small smiles and sweet I’m great, how are you’s, but you were wrong. You found yourself to be a popular wedding guest, all thanks to Luc. 

He wasn’t the only NHL player that was going to be in attendance, but he was the only one in the bridal party. Which made him a popular target for conversation outside the bride and groom. And by proxy, you were too. 

After the rehearsal itself, and sitting down to eat, when there was time left to mingle every single conversation started with an introduction. It was always the same, with Luc’s hand finding the small of your back and stroking it slowly as he said your name and introduced you as your temporary, fake title: girlfriend. And every single time it had the same effect on you. His touch would coax you in closer to him, your body leaning into his so casually, so effortlessly it was as if you had done it many times before. It made you smile too, so wide, yet so softly that you looked excited to meet stranger after stranger. It hid that you were completely overwhelmed by the introductions and the switch from French to English and back to French again in the conversation. When in reality, you just liked how it sounded leaving his lips, you liked how it left you giddy with butterflies in your belly. And you liked how his hand never left you for in that moment, you were his. 

It was so easy to play pretend with Luc. Your chemistry was so natural because that was how it had always been. The two of you had always been comfortable with one another, especially since you had always just clicked. It was all of the lingering touches and knowing glances that were new to both of you. 

Luc would meet your gaze med conversation, his lips curling into a smirk almost as if he was on the verge of laughter before he forced himself to look away. You were sure it was his attempt at trying to find his composure, that and how his grip on your waist, or hip if it had slid downwards throughout the conversation, would grow a little tighter. 

It left you on edge all night in the best way. Your heart racing in your chest right up to the moment the two of you took to the Montreal streets together after dinner. 

The streets were left wet from the rain that had started to fall sometime after you had arrived at dinner. It reflected the city lights, glistening beautifully even as your rushed footsteps splashed through the puddles. The rain continued to fall, hitting the ground hard and leaving you to shiver as it dripped down the angles of your face and down the curves of your body. It would not be long until your dress was soaked right through, and Luc must have noticed. 

The moment the two of you were forced to stop at a red light, a mere block away from the hotel, Luc was stripping off his coat. He draped it over his arms and held it up high over the both of you in an attempt to keep you dry. But it was already too late. Your dress was sticking to your skin, and Luc was only getting wetter. You could see it in the red glow of the stoplight. The cold, wet rain soaked into the white fabric, leaving it to cling to the muscles that had already threatened the tight shirt. 

While he was failing, you appreciated the effort, your heels clicking against the sidewalk as you stepped in just a little closer to his cover to keep you from the rain. The close proximity, paid with your unsteady feet left your body colliding with his. It was a gentle bump, one that left you reaching out to steady yourself against his chest, and laughing out an apology as you looked up at him. 

Luc’s features were aglow with the red tint of the stoplight, his expression one you could quite place. It left you to narrow your eyes, your lips parting in a slow, curious, breath. He wasn’t quite smiling, and his eyes fixated completely on you. It was a soft stare, one comparable to what you would have after a long night's sleep. After sweet dreams, and before you had to force yourself to get out of bed. But you weren’t dreaming. Neither of you were as you stared at one another, the glow of the lights going from red, to green and red again before Luc leaned in. 

You held your breath, your bottom lip trembling as his smirk grew. 

“Don’t you trust me?”

You let out an unsteady exhale, one that left your entire body shivering as you nodded. 

Frozen, your eyes didn’t leave Luc’s face as he lowered his coat back down to hang off his shoulders. The cold rain met the skin of your face again, but it was only for a moment. Then, all you felt was warmth. 

If came first with the touch of Luc’s hands against your cheeks. That touch alone had sent heat flooding through your entire body. It only burned hotter as Luc leaned, the very proximity of his face sending your eyes fluttering shut. And then you could feel him. His breath washed over your face in a heated wave that came crashing down on you with the kiss of his lips against your own. 

If you had the air, you would have gasped. 

But his kiss consumed you so fully, that all you were left to breathe was Luc. 

Every single one of your senses was met by him. You could taste him, and the drinks he had consumed throughout the night on your tongue. You could smell that distinct scent of his cologne. You could feel him, and the strength of his chest beneath your palms as your hands rested on his chest, so close to clutching at the fabric of the tie. And he was the first thing you saw as you drew back and let your eyes open. 

You wanted to ask him why he had kissed you, but you were at a loss for words as you stood there, and so was he. There were only smiles shared between you as his hand found your back and let him guide you through the crowded streets back to the hotel. 

It was a silence that hung over the two of you as you returned to your hotel room and split off into separate rooms to get ready for bed. You claimed the bathroom once more. It was there you struggled to unzip on your own, and as you struggled you battled the simple thought that you could ask Luc to help you with it. That he could unzip it for you. Yet, you struggled alone. It took you a long time to work the zipper free, your body straining and weakening with every awkward reach that would send the dress to the floor in a wet heap. Then, you washed your face free of the makeup that had held up surprisingly well in the rain, before you used the fluffy white hotel towel to dry your hair. 

Warm and dry, you went through the rest of your night routine which included brushing your teeth and pulling on a pair of pajamas you found yourself regretting. You had packed them thinking you would have your own bed. They were your favorite, comfortable, with fabric light to keep you from getting too hot during the night. And they cover enough. You had planned to wear them to lounge around the hotel room, knowing full well that Luc would see you in them. But sleeping next to him in them was different. You knew the fabric would shift and move in your sleep, and the risk of waking up with one or both of your breasts hanging out was a high probability. 

The risk sat like a rock in the bottom of your stomach as you stepped out of the bathroom and stood awkwardly for a moment in the doorway. The kiss was still heavy in your mind. You didn’t know why he had done it, what his intentions may have been. Maybe he was just caught up in the moment. In the love that filled the atmosphere of the rehearsal dinner and bled into every interaction with everyone afterward. But you didn’t let yourself look too much into it. Not when you knew you were just here pretending to be his girlfriend. But that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous to crawl in next to him when you could practically still feel the warmth of his kiss against your lips. 

“The bathroom’s all yours,” you told him from the doorway, and it drew his eyes straight to you. 

During your time spent in the bathroom, Luc had shed his clothes and sat shirtless on his side of the bed. His shoulders were slumped and his neck craned down to look at his hands before your words piqued his interest. 

“Thanks, I won’t be long,” Luc assured as you watched him place his phone face down on the bedside table, “just set the alarm. The downside of being in the wedding party is an early start.”

Your hands came together in front of your stomach, your fingers picking at one another as you stepped out of what would be his path to the bathroom. But you didn’t crawl into bed. You hovered around it, pacing up and down what you assumed would be your side of the bed as you listened to Luc beyond the threshold of the bathroom. He had left the door open, the water running and the buzz of his electric toothbrush too loud to be ignored, and it kept drawing your gaze.

“What time do you have to be there?” 

“They’re asking before eleven,” he called back out to you after you heard him spit into the sink, “enough time to get ready, and the session with the photographer before the ceremony.”

“Which was at what time again?”

“Three,” he answered simply, “gives you lots of time to sleep in and get ready, that is unless you want to come with me.”

“I shouldn’t-”

“But you can, they wouldn’t say no - they like you.”

“Do they?”

It shouldn’t have mattered if they did. You probably wouldn’t be meeting them again after this weekend, but it made you smile to know that you had made a good impression. That was the reason you were there after all, right? To be good company for Luc? The question crossing your mind left your brows to furrow. You never really did come to understand why you were there. He had asked you to go because he already marked down going with a plus one before his breakup. But why did he have to tell people you were his girlfriend? That you had never been answered. 

“Hey, Luc-” you started, moving to lean against the door frame of the bathroom. You peeked around it, the question on the very tip of your tongue only for it to be lost at the sight of him. 

Luc stood hunched over the sink, his hands pressing a towel to his face but it didn’t stop the water from dripping down the angles of his bare chest. The sight of it was enough to leave you mute, but when his eyes found you, his expression consumed by the softest of smiles as he waited for you to say something, anything, you choked out any words you could manage. 

“Is it alright if I turn the lights off?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right in,” Luc said, and you peeled yourself away from the wall. 

It hadn’t been what you wanted to say, and the question would eat at you all through the night - and maybe even the entirety of the trip - but you struggled to find your composure with Luc now. It had been easy before. He had been nothing more than your closest friend, but that was before he kissed you. 

It hadn’t been a simple kiss. Nor was it fleeting. Luc had stopped you there in the street and kissed you so deliberately, and you didn’t know why. There was so much you wanted to know, so many questions that needed answers, but you didn’t know how to ask them. 

So instead, you suffered in silence. 

You turned off the lights, sending the room into darkness with the exception of the warm glow of the bathroom light bleeding into the room. It illuminated your every moment, casting your shadow across the bed and dancing over the hotel room walls as you pulled back the blanket and crawled into bed. 

The cool, crisp sheets welcomed your body, sending a shiver straight through you as you hadn’t quite recovered from the rain’s cold. And for a moment, you thought you may never. That was until the bathroom lights went dark, and you felt the opposite side of the bed shift as Luc climbed in. He was more than an arm’s reach away. Yet, you could feel his warmth. 

You tried to ignore it, and how it radiated over the sheets and into the blanket. But then Luc rolled over, and his legs brushed yours so quickly it could have only been an accident. The feeling lingered against your skin, his hairy legs so coarse against your legs that you shaved before dinner and would shave them again before the wedding tomorrow.  The contrast of your contact should have left you flinching away, but it was drawing you in. Your legs bent a little more just to feel him. 

It was a slow, careful drag. The inside of your leg moving up and over his. It was then you realized just how small the bed felt with Luc in it. Just how close his body was to yours. 

Then he rolled over again. Leaving you flinching back as he tossed and turned. 

Both of you were restless. 

You were too afraid to roll over, and Luc constantly moved in an attempt to get comfortable. Both needed sleep, but it failed to take you. 

Your mind was too focused on the kiss and on his warmth. 

It left your body quivering with a heavy breath as you shifted from your side to your back, and finally to your other side where you finally came face to face with a sleepless Luc. 

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice a low whisper, so low that it was almost a growl in the dark. 

You shook your head, your hair surely becoming a mess between your head and the pillow. 

There wasn’t much you could see through the darkness. But what you could see, left you holding your breath. There was a glimmer of light coming in through the window and you weren’t sure if it was a street light or if the clouds cleared and let in the light of the moon. No matter what it was, the light caught Luc’s eyes, his stare on your features. It dragged down from your eyes, down over the angle of your nose only to drop to your lips where they lingered before gliding back up again. And it illuminated his chain, a silver gleaming, as it hung off his  neck, down his chest and shoulder, and down onto his arm that he used as his pillow. 

It was a chain he always wore. One that hung off his neck all night, and all day, even when he was out on the ice. He kept it trapped between his equipment, his cross over his heart. And you knew it. Something so familiar, shouldn’t have been so captivating, but it was drawing in your touch. Your arm reached out, your fingers meeting the warm chain before they slipped and landed on his chest. 

Your lips parted, your tongue ready to curse for being so careless but your larynx was left weak. You couldn’t find your words, your throat closer to gasping as Luc was leaning in, closer. Closer. So close you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin and his lips found yours again. 

Unlike the first time, Luc didn’t ask for your permission. He didn’t need to, because you had been leaning in too. You welcomed his kiss as your fingers coiled around his thick silver chain. If you could have twisted it around your index finger you would have, but instead, you fisted it in your hand, using the delicate tension to draw Luc in further. 

You could not get him close enough, even with your lips joined together in a kiss that only grew deeper. You didn’t have to worry about being in the middle of the street now. No one was watching. It was just you and Luc, alone, together in the hotel bed. There was nothing but privacy, and no one to know that you had indulged yourself in the kiss of your best friend. 

The best friend that you told all of your other friends that you didn’t like Luc like that. That that two of you were just friends and it would be weird to be anything more than that. 

But there was no ignoring how good it felt to kiss him. To feel the roughness of his stubble against your face, and his tongue stroke along your own in your mouth. It had you melting, both metaphorically and physically. So much so that you pressed your legs firmly together in an attempt to combat the weakness between your legs that left your arousal to puddle in your panties. 

It was the only thing you could do in restraint, but any thought of holding back was quickly fading as Luc’s hands began to explore your body. They were warm, and calloused from his days spent training in the gym for the coming season. And they ran down the angles of your arms before dropping to your waist. Fingers wrinkled the soft fabric of your pajamas, bunching it up around your ribcage so he could feel the soft warmth of your skin against his palms. Luc’s touch sent a shiver coursing down your spine, and a soft groan from his lips. One that sounded so sweet to your ears, and you felt it against your lips. It was the first of what would be a symphony of sounds.

Soft moans became groans that he guided you to straddle his waist. Your body on top of his, his between your thighs. It coaxed out heavy breaths, and desperate sighs as hands touched what had once been untouched. And you welcomed it, encouraged it as your body became consumed by need, by instinct, and your hips rolled to tease the stiffness of his cock that you could feel pressed up against your clothed core. 

You could feel his smile grow against his lips at the simple action, his teeth coming down to tug at your lower lip in a playful nip that left your legs squeezing around his strong thighs. There was only so much more you could take, and he knew that too. He must have been able to see it, feel it, hear it as he pulled back and mumbled your name against the angle of your jawline. 

There was a fine line between friendship and more. The kiss had toed that line. It had corrupted your mind with the thought of more, and the two of you found yourself on the very verge of crossing a line there would be no coming back from. If you fucked him, you wouldn’t be just friends anymore. You would be caught between friendship and something more. Something complicated, and undefined. Something that could threaten your friendship. There would be no going back to how things were before. That was clear, even with your clothes still on. The kiss changed everything, and put your friendship in jeopardy. Which made the choice you had to make easier. 

You could lose him either way, so you would dive in head first. 

No regrets. 

“Take your clothes off,” you breathed out, a simple instruction, your decision made. 

Together your bodies fumbled, your clothes not coming off fast enough. Limbs collided, your hands pulling off your top before you fell to the side to pull your bottoms and panties both off in swift motions that left you bare. He didn’t help you, and you didn’t help him, but once you both were naked your bodies met again. His hands found your hips, drawing you back to where you had once sat in his lap, and his mouth continued its sweet assault on your lips. 

The first thing you did once Luc was between your legs again, your knees pressed down on the plush surface of the mattress, was let your hips resume their teasing roll. You had hoped to coax another groan from his lips, but this time you could feel his cock glide along your slick and it left you shuddering. If the sweetness of Luc’s lips hadn’t consumed your lips, you would have cursed him for just how good he felt without even being inside you. Your core clenched, and you did it again. And again. Your hips rolling, to and fro, Luc’s cock embraced by your body and coating him with your click. 

The feeling had him throwing his head back, a sting of French words you didn’t understand leaving his lips like a sweet melody. Part of you wished you knew what he said, but a part of you loved it. The mystery of not knowing was sexy. 

You teased Luc with the friction of your body, and the wetness of your arousal so much that it was almost a form of self torture. And he admired you the entire time you did it. His hands stroked over your body, along the curves of your body. Hands cupped at your breast, giving them a gentle squeeze, before trailing down. Fingertips left a grazing touch over your stomach, making the firm grapes of his hands around your hips all the more shocking. Biceps flexed as he lifted you up just enough to reach a single hand down to take hold of his cock.  

Hair fell down into your face as you looked down, your eyes on his hand as it stroked his cock. The careful guidance of his hand brought the head of his cock to your core, and for a second you thought he might tease you. That he would drag the tip of his cock along your dripping entrance until you couldn’t take the teasing. 

Luc had always looked like the type to want to tease his lover. To make them beg. 

But maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did. Or maybe he was just desperate for you because he didn’t waste time with you. Luc raised his hip, pressing his cock up into your eager core before his hand found your hip again to guide you down along his cock. 

Legs quivered at the mere feeling of him, and your lips parted in a gasp at the fullness of his cock buried deep in your core. It left your head spinning, your eyes shut as you were seeing starts at the very pleasure of just feeling him. All of him. 

You rode him slowly, your hips rolling as your hands came down to brace yourself against the strength of your chest. And you rode him until the muscles in your legs burned and your lips parted in a panting breath. It was then that Luc took hold of you and flipped you over until you lay flat on your back, and not once were you void o his cock. It remained buried deep inside your walls, and deeper once he had you laying out on your back. 

His hands guided your legs to wrap around his hips, and your hips collided with his every impactful trust that left your core clenching. Yet, you were desperate for more. 

Your hand that had found the mattress in a knuckle-white grasp left the white sheets and sought blinding for one of Luc’s hands. You found it, taking it in the hold of both of your own and guiding it to where you wanted his hold. 

Around your throat. 

His grasp was careful, yet firm as you stretched your neck out for him. The simple action brought another string of words you didn’t understand spilling from his lips. 

Your core clenched. 

He spoke again so lowly it was more of a growl, and his hold grew a little tighter. Luc could feel the effect it had on you as he fucked you. His every thrust was deep and steady, leaving you gasping, moaning, and quivering as he brought you closer and closer to the very peak of your pleasure. It left you gripping at his shoulders, your nails leaving half-moon crescents in his flesh, and your legs winding tight around him as you were lost in the pleasure of Luc. You were so completely consumed by him, mind and body, that your head was left spinning. It was a dreamy daze of pleasure, one that didn’t feel real as Luc buried himself right down to the hilt of his cock and unloaded deep into your core. 

And he remained there, tired, panting, as he slumped down to lay in the bed, his hand finally falling away from your throat. Together, your bodies still joined as if they were one, you lay there. Panting, staring. Tired, but nowhere near ready to sleep. It was the perfect time to let regret and doubt consume you. 

But then Luc smiled. 

You smiled too. 

And you regretted nothing.  

When you woke up in the morning, Luc was already gone. He had gotten up early with his alarm, and left you to sleep in after your unexpectedly late night together. But it wasn’t without thought. Luc had brought breakfast back up to the room and had left the note. You would have until two in the afternoon to enjoy your day. Then, a town car would be at the hotel to pick you up. It would bring you to the cathedral, where he would meet you after the reception. 

You spent the day in bed, making no effort to dress in anything more than the complimentary robe. You picked at the breakfast he left for you and sipped the coffee that was left along with it. After the night you had, you would need the caffeine to get through the day. Then, when the time wound closer and closer to two, you stepped into the shower and washed away the salt of sweat that remained on your skin, and the remnants of Luc that had dried on the inside of your thighs. 

A part of you felt that what happened was all a dream. That you may be dreaming still. But little things brought you back to reality. The tenderness of your core with every stride around the hotel room as you got dressed. The heat of your curling iron when you held it a little too close to your neck. And the shrillness of your alarm at 1:30 all kept you grounded as you rode out the high of your night. 

There was an elegance in your stride as you made your way through the hotel lobby. One that had a bit of a hop in your step, and a confidence in your smile as you waved to the bellboy who admired your body in your dress as you made your way out the doors and out into the streets where you met the town car. 

It was a quick ride to the cathedral, and you fell straight into the chaos that came with a wedding. There were what felt like hundreds of people, and you were merely one of them as you found an empty seat near the back. You sat in the pew, your eyes admiring the stained glass, the beautiful architecture, and the almost sickeningly sweet atmosphere of love that consumed every person and every little detail in the cathedral. Normally, it would have left your nose wrinkled with disgust. You hated weddings. You didn't believe in love. But you were consumed so fully by the afterglow of sex, and it left you in love with the idea of love. 

Then, the music began to play, and the ceremony began. 

You were sure that you would be lost in the crowd. Just one face lost among family and friends closer to the bride and groom than you could ever be, but Luc found you the moment he stepped through the door with a pretty bridesmaid on his arm.

Your eyes locked, and you held your breath. He acknowledged you with a subtle nod, and your hand raised in a small wave as you admired him. Luc looked too good in his suit, the pants just a little tight around his thighs, and the color of his tie matched the hue of his eyes. It is a color you admire throughout the ceremony, his gaze finding yours as the bride and groom exchanged their vows, and again when they shared their first kiss as husband and wife. 

By the end of it all, you wanted nothing more but to kiss him. But could you?

Sure, you were pretending to be his girlfriend, but last night left you were too many unanswered questions. Did the night have the same effect on you as it did you? Was this more than just pretending? You wouldn’t get your answers. 

But you did get your kiss. 

Luc found you in the crowded church as the guests, his hands falling to your waist to draw you in. You stood flush against him, and one of his hands raised to capture your chin between his thumb and forefingers to guide you up for a slow, simple kiss. And when he pulled back, his soft smile silenced any question that sent anxiety coursing through you. 

It was the first of many kisses that peppered your evening. Luc kissed you sweetly when he left to sit at the head table and you were forced to mingle with strangers. He kissed you again when he found you after the first few dances, his hands guiding you out onto the dancefloor to dance together. And again before he left you alone at your table with the promise of returning with a flute of pink champagne. 

It would be your third, or fourth, drink of the night. You hadn’t exactly been counting. You had one to sip in your hands while you socialized and you needed another after dancing. One after the other, you welcomed its sweet taste and the feeling of the bubbles against your tongue. And you welcomed the warm fuzzy feeling that came with drinking it. It left you too comfortable in the crowded room. Too comfortable with having Luc’s hands on your body, and his lips on your lips,  as you spoke to his friends, to strangers, as his girlfriend.

The title garnered a crowd. Everyone wanted to know how you met, how long you were together, and every little detail that you were willing to offer them. The questions were easy to answer because you didn’t have to lie. And those you did have to create some kind of answer for, were born from truth. But handing it all alone in Luc’s absence, while he was taking longer than expected to get you a drink, left you overwhelmed and desperate for a moment alone. 

Excusing yourself with a smile, you promised to return once you found Luc, and you began to walk past the crowded dancefloor towards the bar. Your steps were unsteady, the buzz of the champagne coursing pleasantly through your body as you pushed your way through crowds. You kept your eyes sharp, looking for Luc in the winding line at the bar only for your brows to furrow. He wasn’t there. You stopped in place, turning in place slowly, trying to find where he could have wandered off to. 

You didn’t find him at the head table with the bride and groom who were still on the dancefloor. He was with the maid of honor who was trying to prepare the cake for cutting. And he wasn’t with the groomsmen on the way back from smoking cigars. No, you found him in the shadows by the bathrooms, tucked away from the chaos. And he wasn’t alone. 

You couldn’t see who he was with at first as you pushed through the crowd to meet him. But then, as you got closer, you wish you hadn’t. 

Luc was tucked away with his ex. 

They were standing a little too close for comfort. His hands were cradling each of her cheeks, her hands resting atop his,  as he stood, arched over so that she could hear him speak in his hushed tones. You could see his lips moving, but you couldn’t hear a single word. But you didn’t need to. His body said it all, as did the look on her face. Her eyes were glassy, her lips swollen, and her hands clutching at his tie. Your mind was quick to connect the dots, jumping to one conclusion, and one conclusion only. 

Luc had brought you there to make her jealous. 

And it worked. 

She wanted him back, and you were sure you had just caught them at the end of kissing and making up. 

There was a heaviness that consumed your gut. It was a coiling of regret and naivety sitting there like a rock as you were sobered by your own anger. How could you have been so stupid to think that this was the opportunity for the both of you to be something more? 

It left a sour taste in your mouth as you stumbled back, running into guests you didn’t know and drawing too much attention to yourself. You muttered out rushed apologies, your voice breaking but you were nowhere near tears. You were too angry to cry, but you knew you needed to get out of there before that anger boiled down to sorrow. 

Quick steps carried you to your table, your hand grabbing your clutch like you were Indiana Jones stealing a treasured idol and a large bolder was now in full pursuit. But your bolder was Luc. 

You could hear him calling after you as you pushed your way to the exit. You ran when you could, but it would never be fast enough. You couldn’t outrun him if you tried. And when he finally caught up to you, you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, dazed by the rush of traffic on the busy Montreal street. 

There was nowhere else for you to go, so you turned around and you faced him. 

“You knew she was going to be here, didn’t you?” You threw your words at him, the question emphasized by the honking of Montreal city traffic as you stood in the center of the sidewalk, crowds from the wedding and general foot traffic moving around the both of you in a blur. And you just stared at him, waiting for an answer, an answer he couldn’t give you, because he knew you wouldn’t like it. He did know she was going to be here, you could see it in the ashamed look on his face, and the sad look in his eyes. And you should have known that too. They had been together for years. His friends were her friends too. 

It made you want to scream, but instead, you took a few steps towards him, your palms meeting the strength of his chest to shove him back towards the door of the venue. 

“You’re a fucking joke,” you said, your voice not once losing its harsh confidence even if it so desperately wanted to break like your heart already had deep in your chest. 

“You could have saved me and yourself a lot of trouble if you had just come alone, Luc. But no, everything is always so complicated with you. You can’t make anything easy. You’ve got to make her jealous right? So it’s all the more satisfying when you get her back into your bed.” 

Your name slipped from his lips, a desperate plea as he tried to reach out to you. You stared at his hand for only a moment, his reach so tempting to reach out to. He wanted you to take it, to hold your hand and draw you in. What he would do after that, you didn’t know. And you wouldn’t find out. You would rather step out into traffic. And you did. Your heels met the wet roadway, splashing through the shallow puddles as you came to stand between parked cars. 

“We were just-”

You almost groaned at the sound of his voice. You didn’t want to hear it anymore. So you cut in before he could try to feed you any excuse he could come up with. 

“Pretending? Your head cocked to the side, an unpleasant smile on your lips, “you’re right. We were. All of this was just fucking pretend. So I’m done pretending.” 

Throwing your hands up, you moved further from the curb to hail a cab from the chaos of the Montreal city traffic. But Luc was moving into the street after you, his footsteps making your shoulders tense up before you could turn around and see that it was him. 

“Can you just give me a second to fucking say anything?” His voice was strained with the frustration that was painted all over his face. 

“Why should I?” You bit back. 

“Just let me explain-”

“Explain, ha,” you laughed, “As much as I would love to see how you would justify this, I’ve given you more than enough of my time, Luc.”

The conversation didn’t end there. 

Luc always needed to try to get the last word. “You’re impossible!”

But you never let him have it. “And you’re an asshole,” you told him with a forced smile before climbing into the cab that was holding up traffic in the street. 

A symphony of honks was the background music as you told your destination to the driver. You would return to the hotel, spend the night there, and come morning you would catch your flight back to Winnipeg. After that, you hoped you’d never have to see Luc again. What he had done to you, in your mind, was unforgivable, and it sent you into tears as you sat alone in the back seat of the taxi cab. 

Act 3. 

It was the ring of the courtesy call that woke you up the morning after the wedding. Your flight was in a mere few hours, your checkout time dawning on you, and you couldn’t have been happier. The sooner you got home, the sooner you could try to forget what happened. You had tried to forget it already, but as you threw back your blanket, and swung your legs over the side of the bed to place your feet flat on the ground you were met by the biggest reminder of the mistakes you had made when agreeing to go to Montreal. 

On the floor, draped under a decorative throw blanket, was Luc. 

A sigh so heavy that you almost groaned rocked you. He sure had some balls to come back to the hotel room after what happened the night before. You had made it quite clear that you were less than impressed with him, and what he did. Surely he had to know the severity of his deceit. That it had not only been cruel to you but to his ex as well. The manipulation and the lies-

You stopped yourself midthought, your eyes falling to where he slept on the floor so peacefully. If he had come all the way out here playing pretend with you just to win his ex back, why was he here in the room? 

It was a question you tried to ignore as you quietly changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt to wear on the flight home. And one you pushed further into the back of your mind as you took a quick inventory of the hotel room bathroom to make sure you hadn’t left anything behind. 

You shouldn’t care to know why he was there. But you did care enough not to let him miss his flight - or well, be the reason he missed it. Grabbing your packed back you nudged Luc in the back with your sneaker-clad foot on the way to the door. You didn’t greet him with pleasantries and instead met him with the same harshness he heard from you the night before. 

“Get up asshole, you’re going to miss your flight,” you stood in the doorway long enough to watch Luc wake up in a panic. The last thing you saw on your way out the door was his hand lurching out to grab his watch to check the time. 

You left him behind, your suitcase rolling in your wake as you followed the same route out of the hotel as you did the night before. You waved to the bellhop in the lobby, your smile a little weaker this time, and instead of meeting a town car, you found a vacant taxi and loaded your luggage into the back seat with you. 

“Trudeau International Airport, please?” You asked of him with a sigh, your head leaning back against your seat. 

You could have fallen asleep there, your eyes falling shut as you heard the turning signal of the cab begin its rythmic tick as he tried to merge into busy traffic. It was almost soothing, hypnotic, but it was broken by the abrupt opening of the back door. 

Your eyes opened quickly, your body lurching defensively away from the door as your heart raced, startled. Your lips parted to yell at the idiot who didn’t see that the cab was already occupied, but you were met with the familiar face of Luc. You wanted to be relieved at the sign of him, but your disgust continued to bubble deep inside your gut. You couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him to fuck off and find another taxi. Instead, you sat in silence, your gaze leaving him and looking out the window to fixate on the buildings as they passed. 

To your relief, Luc didn’t say a single word the entire ride to the airport. Not did he try to carry your bags when you arrived. Instead, he merely followed in your wake, until you came to the check-in counter. It was there you decided to let him go first. 

It was an innocent thing. Something he didn’t even question as he checked in for the flight. A first-class seat that would take him back to Winnipeg. And he even lingered afterward, waiting for you to check in as if it had been a show of good faith. But in reality, it was the only way you could ensure you wouldn’t have to sit with him on the flight home. 

“I was wondering if you had any other seat available?” You spoke to the airline representative who met you with a perplexed expression. 

Luc wore one of the same, your name leaving his lips as if to beg you to change your mind. 

You weren’t going to. 

“There’s nothing else in first class,” the representative told you as if it were going to change your mind. 

“Something in economy will do just fine,” you assured them with a nod, your grip on your bag growing tighter and you didn’t ease up on your grasp until the updated ticket was in your hands and you were ready to board. 

There was a relief in going home. A relief in being able to spend the flight alone, but it wasn’t without one last attempt from Luc. He spoke your name so softly, so gently, that for a moment you considered listening to him. You hesitated in place, your eyes raising to meet his as he reached out for your arm. He gripped it carefully, not too hard, just enough to keep you in place. Just enough to assure that you would listen to what he had to say. 

“I made you this,” Luc spoke slowly, his free hand raising to show you his phone screen. On it, Spotify was open for you to see, a playlist labeled i’m sorry the only thing you could see. It was a playlist of twenty or more songs, you wouldn’t quite see, and want to get close enough to see. “Listen to it on the flight home?”

Your eyes stared at it for a moment, your tongue parting your lips to lick over them slowly as your mouth went dry. “I’ll think about it,” was all you could offer him before you pulled out of his hold and stepped aside. First class was boarding, and you were in his way. 

Luc lingered for a moment more, his eyes fixated on you until he let out a defeated sigh and left you standing alone waiting to board. It would be some time before you were called to board, yet you stood, lingering where he left you. It was there, waiting for your call to board that curiosity got the best of you. 

Your thumb stroked over your phone screen, bringing it to life with its light and pulling open Spotify with the click of a single button. There, you found Luc’s profile and the playlist he had made for you. Twenty-five songs. 1 hour, 30-plus minutes long. It had artists you knew, and others you didn’t. Songs that were your favorite, and some you didn’t even know what they would sound like. It wouldn’t last the entire flight, but it would kill time, and maybe it would help you understand. 

Quickly you downloaded the list, and when you boarded the plane and found your seat, you pressed play. 

Kiss Her You Fool. 

Take Me to Church. 

Where Do We Go From Here?

Now or Never. 

They were just a handful of the songs Luc had compiled onto the playlist for you. The playlist you had listened to from start to finish, and then started again before you had landed in Winnipeg. It had taken you through a rollercoaster of emotions. You smiled. You laughed. You cried. And it left your heart heavy in your chest as you collected your bag and made your way out to hail a cab. 

You did not completely understand what Luc was trying to say with the song he put together. Some confused you. Others gave you hope. But what you did know, was that you owed him an apology. 

You fumbled with your belongings and your phone as you stood on the platform, taxis waiting for their next passenger in front of you, as you began to dial his number. You were halfway through it when the long honk of a horn drew your eyes up, and you found Luc leaning against his car, waiting for you. 

“What are you doing-” you started, your ace blanketed with confusion as you began to take slow, cautious strides toward him. 

He had reached through the driver’s side window to honk at you before rounding to stand at the hood of his car. Arms crossed over his chest, his tattoos on full display as he left his sweatshirt and back in the backseat of his car. 

“I owe you a ride home,” he told you simply. It had always been the plan, but you hadn’t intended to take him up on it after what had happened. 

“I think you owe me a little more than that,” you told him, trying not to smile as you tossed your phone at him. 

He caught it effortlessly, the screen on, and displaying his playlist. 

Luc smiled. 

“You listened to it?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Explain,” was all you told him. 

“You’re my best friend,” he said your name, and it oozed with the pain he felt for the pain he caused you, “I didn’t do any of this to hurt you. I invited you because… Well,” he sighed,  “because you’re right. I’m a shitty person. The break up a few months ago, was because of you. She didn’t like how close you and I were. She wanted me to distance myself from you, and that wasn’t something I was willing to do. Then she gave me the ultimatum. You or her. And I chose you.”

A lump formed in your throat, you swallowed it back and held your breath. 

“When I invited you. My intentions weren’t the best. I wanted to mess with her, and that was wrong for me to do. Not just to her, but to you too. But I’m glad I did-”

“Luc-” you gasped out, both in shock at his words and his lack of regret for his actions. 

“I’m not finished,” he cut in, “I’m glad I did because playing pretend with you, fuck, it wasn’t just pretending.” Luc stepped away from the car, and you were frozen in place, watching him as he approached. Your bag slipped from your hold, falling to the ground as your hands reached out to welcome his body as he stepped so close to your own as he took your head in his hands and drew you in so close to his lips you could feel his words in a hot breath against your skin, “Because I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

It wasn’t much of an apology, but it was the explanation you asked for. It wasn’t what you expected to hear, but you liked hearing it. It made you smile as you reached up, your hands finding the nape of his neck and knitting in his hair as you drew him in for a kiss. 

You loved him too. 

[eisforeidolon]

Jensen: What's up?

Jared: Good morning, Austin.

Jensen: Austin, Texas! C'mon!

Jared: Who lives here? That was loud. Who lives in Texas? Who doesn't? What's wrong with y'all?

Jensen: Well you guys picked the perfect month to come here 'cause it's -

Jared: Lovely outside.

Jensen: Just, just lovely.

Jared: Apologies for the weather, for sure.

Jensen: Yeah, yeah, next year we're gonna do January in Winnipeg, which is [makes a-okay sign] beautiful.

Jared: Sounds lovely.

Jensen: Well, we're missing [taps third microphone between them]

Jared: Somebody [also taps]

Jensen: Because I think he's still doing some photos, so he will be along shortly.

Audience member: Here he comes!

Jensen: What? What? Oh! Jeffrey Dean Morgan on the stage!

Jeff: [hugs Jared, hugs Jensen, waves to crowd]

Jared: The one that [?].

Jensen: 'Sup pop?

Jeff: Mornin'!

Jensen: Buddy, how you doin'?

Jeff: Since I last saw you, good. You?

Jensen: Good.

Jeff: Were you overseas?

Jensen: Yeah.

Jeff [to Jared]: Were you overseas?

Jared: I was not recently, but I was. But a month ago. A couple weeks ago, let's go with that. Yeah yeah yeah, not last year, 2005.

Jensen: I haven't been home since I saw you.

Jeff: Yeah, I haven't either.

Jensen: We were together in San Diego, the big ComicCon there.

Jeff: Or as I like to call it, the announcing of Jensen's nine million shows. That was cool. I went home that night, or back to the hotel or whatever and Norman - I was with Norman - and he was like, tell me about this Jensen. 'Cause he's got the world by the balls. And I'm like, I know. And he's like, is he married? I'm like, are you asking for yourself?

Jared: Did Norman want Jensen to have Norman by the balls as well?

Jeff: Yeah, I've never seen Norman, like, really jealous. And I gotta say - he just was - he wouldn't stop talking about ya. I had to pull out a picture of Danneel and say he's not available!

Jensen: I sat across from Norman at your wedding and we had a really lovely conversation and you know it was cool to get to - I mean, I'd met him before, but it was cool to sit and chat with him. But it was, you know, it was just that normal kind of banter and stuff but it -

Jeff: Well, and since then also he binged - I don't know if he ever watched Supernatural - but he binged The Boys. And I think that changed his whole thing, too. He's so star-struck by Jensen.

Jensen: Well, to be fair, I was a little star-struck at your wedding by him. Just 'cause I was, like, Boondock Saints is one of my favorite movies of all time. And so I was trying to just keep my cool in front of him, so that's, uh -

Jeff: Well, you did a good job. All around, all around you did a good job. Jensen also was, like, my preacher. He got a little rolling stone official piece of paper that said it was like, legal - I think? Am I really married?

Jensen: No, I got ordained and they actually sent me, like, a priest shirt with a collar. Like the [gestures at neck] - I didn't wear that. But yeah, no, you can get ordained online, it's the Church of Life or something in case any of you would like to become ordained?

Jared: Anybody wanna get married today? We got a guy.

Jensen: That's right, [holds up hand] I've got a certificate.

Jared [to audience member]: Do it, do it.

Jensen: No, that was a one and done for me.

Jared [still to audience]: Congratu- Well I got one, too! [gestures at wedding ring]

Jeff: He's married! [pointing at Jared]

Jared: So is she, she's got her [gestures at ring]

Jeff: Official [gestures at Jensen] - oh. If we were in Utah, I'd say go for it. [Jared grabs his shoulder]

Jensen: You're all invited to Norman and my's wedding.

Jeff: Can I get ordained for that?

Jensen: Yes.

Jared: 100%.

[talesfrommedinastation]

Redneck Doug on ALL the other Clones in Star Wars!

As promised, for reaching a new number of followers, here's Doug's list when I asked him to name off all the clones in 'The Clone Wars' and 'The Bad Batch'!

Some are obviously repeats of other posts, and some are brand spanking new.

I'm using my autoethnography skills to their fullest extent, here, people.

This is LONG but hey! 7 seasons of The Clone Wars and 3 seasons of The Bad Batch means animated Star Wars in the Days of our Lives of animation.

If I'm missing someone, let me know! I'll reach out to Doug!

Enjoy, everyone!

CW: Redneck Doug just rambles needlessly about people.

And Clermont Lounge is one of the scariest and yet, most fun places in the ATL and I could 100% see one of the 501st working there.

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

Bly: That’s a boy, his name’s Miguel. Got his friends, they drink Pabst, shoot the empty cans behind the garage when they done, and hit on every woman that walks by. But Miguel’s got his eyes on Babe-the-Blue-Jedi and steals flowers from people’s yard and gives them to her. Babe-the-Blue-Jedi knows the man’s not that bright but his heart’s in the right place and that’s all that matters, right? 

Rex: That's Rex. He's a king. Respect him. 

Cody: That’s Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend, he’s sad all the time. We know why. (Confirmed that Doug is a Codywan shipper and I don’t know what to do about that)

Howzer: That’s my niece’s boyfriend, Jorge. We all love Jorge, nice guy, owns an auto repair shop and always remembers plates and napkins for the cookouts after church.

Gregor: Jorge’s cousin, Manny. Met him once at Christmas in Miami, nice guy, only drinks brown liquor and insists everyone arm wrestle him. But he’s got a good job as a PE teacher, we respect education, come on now. 

Hardcase: Wiggles. He laughs at everything and never wears a helmet both on his big head and his lil head and that explains everything about the man.

Kix: Nurse Mark. He's tired and sick of your shit, sick of the creeps trying to get the Fentanyl, that's a crime now, ain't it.

Echo: "Eh, Toaster Strudel. Homeboy looks like his daddy had an affair with a convection oven on shore leave and forgot to pay child support."

Mayday: Aw, I liked this guy so much! That’s Sassy Park Ranger, he’s the type that gives you your camping permits, warns you about the bears, and then is all disappointed when you don’t properly stow your food and the bears destroy the campsite. I need to go back to Little River Canyon, that place was pretty. 

Scorch: The Son of Robocop. His daddy told him to get off his lazy Robo-son ass and go get a job, so he works for the Empire now, because no one can get a job in Detroit. That’s why he’s a bad person. (Because he works for the Empire? “No, because he’s a Lions fan and that ain’t a good look for anyone.”)  

Fives: Alex-from-Manitoba. He reminds me so much of this awesome guy I knew, Alex, was from Winnipeg, we worked in oil together. Smart, knew his shit, loved guns and getting his hair did. No one listens to him, management hates him, and he gets fired. Man I was so pissed off when that happened with that damn alien that ran the ocean on the mall! He deserved better, damn it!

(Fives or Alex-from-Manitoba?

“BOTH!!!”)

99: 99!  

(You actually remember his name?  

“Hell yeah! He’s one of the most important characters! Why would I not?” 

::cue me, quietly staring at all the weird-ass names over texts and saying NOTHING in response::) 

Wolffe: Bernando. I dunno, man, he got that Bernardo energy. I’ve met three and they all looked like they wanna run off into the woods and come out when they got a deer they need to process and take a shower and find a lady before running back into the woods. Also Bernardo never has a girlfriend that lasts more than 6 months with him. Don’t know why. Just trust me. 

Gree: Carnie Joe. Man, he looks like the type of guy who drives an ice cream truck but there ain’t no Bomb Pops inside if you know what I mean. 

Cut Lawquane: Not-Wolverine. He ran away from the Empire, grew out his muttonchops, wanted to join the X-Men, Charles Xavier said ‘Nah son you need super powers for that’, and then Not-Wolverine stomped off into Tremors-land and started a pot-and-chicken farm like every other hillbilly in Kentucky. But he got a hot wife out of the deal and some nice kids and lots of guns, and ya know, that ain’t a bad ending for the man. 

Commander Fox: Red-Chief-of-Police. He’s absolutely on them Ticky-Tack videos my nieces and nephews watch where the cops are doing bad things but they ain’t gonna get fired over it. Man. It ain’t right. 

Tup: Alex’s-Friend-Matt. Aw, Matt, good guy, but too much brain damage after that time he fell off the roof while laying down tar. He grew out his ponytail to hide the dent in his head and talked funny afterwards, but he real good at roughneck work and I can’t fault the man, nope. 

Hevy: That’s Ross. He’s always mad because he’s insecure. He’s got a lot of Nerf guns and only eats stuff you can find at 7-11. 

Jesse: That’s Jesse, he’s a trucker, was a bouncer at Clermont Lounge in Atlanta, and has three ex-wives who all hate him. He shaves his head because his hair hates him too. 

Crosshair: So that there's Daddy Warcrimes. All you need to know is he lives on beer and Slim Jims, has more guns then Jesus got faith, and that he does your mom on the weekends, and then you thank him for his service.

Hunter: Aw man, we got Rambo up in this place. Daddy Rambo. He looks like he's got some hot wife with a huge butt who makes amazing biscuits, but he only showers on the weekends for reasons he won't tell you.

Wrecker: I know, I KNOW, he's got some cool Star Wars name, but in my head, he's Julio. He looks like a Julio, ya know? Every Julio's been the nicest guy with a truck and a million friends. I swear. I bet he's a contractor and lays pipe like you wouldn't believe. ::winks::

Tech: Hm, yeah, I know him. That's Ryan-from-Accounting, somebody's hipster dad. You know, everyone knows a Ryan who works in accounting, he's quiet, only drinks IPAs, and has a bitch wife named Laura who drives a Kia and is always yelling at him. Poor man. I hope Julio saves him from his bitch wife Laura.*

Omega: Little Orphan Blondie. I hope she gets real parents or something besides those freaky alien things running the mall on the ocean.

Emerie Karr: Stepsister-Beth. She’s got a stick up her rear, was in a sorority known for bitchy Daddy’s Girls who wouldn’t touch below the belt but are all about using other places for their date’s hoses to put out the fire, and only drinks almond milk lattes. She’s a bitch to waiters and drives a Prius. 

(“Doug I drive a Prius.”

“Yeah, but you ain’t a southern sorority girl so y’all forgiven.”)

Nemec and Fireball: Trigger and Nutsy. They’ve been in a survival militia in the Florida Everglades and that’s all you need to know. 

CX-2: The Guy from Tron. He’s a guy, and he was in the movie Tron. That’s it. 

[sergeifyodorov]

Any interest in grading everyone’s first day of free agency? Would love to hear your thoughts!!

ooh okay ! well as tuned in as i am i didn't catch everything so this is going to be pretty incomplete/fairly uninformed but here's my attempt:

boston bruins: that zadorov contract LOL AND LMAO (i say as if hes not going to immediately skyrocket to excellence.) that lindholm contract might be even worse with the same caveat. A+ for me, a hater

buffalo sabres: what did they even do? C.

detroit red wings: kane is a bad move + jack campbell is fine at that contract + cam talbot is the epitome of "goalies? what's up with goalies?" + why do they have 4 goalies now. C-

florida panthers: lost montour, lost oel, lost lomberg. that reinhart contract is really good though. C+

montreal canadiens: if slaf continues on his upward trajectory that contract looks great; if he doesn't, they're already bad so it doesn't matter all that much. B

ottawa senators: what did they even do? get noah gregor? i hear he's very fast. C.

tampa bay lightning: where do i even start with this one

toronto maple leafs: the problem w/ all of the leafs' acquisitions is that they are Fine, some of them even Good, but they're just overpaid enough for me to not only get annoyed about it but also see 30 ft of insufferably rancid discourse every time i open twitter. B+

carolina hurricanes: appear to have lost half the guys i remember being on their roster, but the one dude they did end up signing was one of the small handful of good deals i saw handed out today. C

columbus blue jackets: this team's quality does not matter. you know what does matter? gaudreau/monahan reunion. A

new jersey devils: brett pesce's good. B+

new york islanders: anthony duclair's good but i mourn what lou lamoriello will make him do with his hair. C+

new york rangers: what did they even do. C.

philadelphia flyers: MATVEI MICHKOV IS COMING. TELL YOUR FRIENDS, TELL YOUR ENEMIES, TELL TRAVIS KONECNY, TELL EVERYONE!!! A

pittsburgh penguins: incredibly committed to the bit of only signing players over 30 and they don't have poj back yet. C

washington capitals: genuine home runs in here. chychrun... pld... matt roy... didn't even give out valuable picks to acquire these assets! A

chicago blackhawks: i think they're trying to crawl out of this rebuild with no other serious potential core members other than bedard, which don't get me wrong is a bad move, but i also think they're not doing a terrible job of crawling out of the rebuild. B

colorado avalanche: kept jo drouin. C+

dallas stars: lyubushkin is incredibly bad and they gave him 3.25 aav. and casey desmith is there. F

minnesota wild: extended one of the sexiest toothless men on earth jake middleton. A

nashville predators: A+

st louis blues: what did they even do. C

utah hockey club: that durzi price is a bit steep but hey, if you've never had the money before i guess you might as well spend it. also sergachev was a BALLSY move i will miss you my cunty mistress. also we (the nhl) have a fucking iginla again... for our health. we need an iginla. B-

winnipeg jets: what did they even do. C

anaheim ducks: what did they even do. C

calgary flames: sharangovich extension + anthony mantha. tidy bit of business. zayne parekh YOU are the 2025 calder trophy winner. C+

edmonton oilers: managed to get a couple good players on nice cheap contracts, improved their rush game even more somehow, and will have to re-print their goalie's jerseys because they now have two different guys named skinner. A

la kings: gave joel edmundson nearly 4 million dollars a year. D

seattle kraken: stole brandon montour from florida. B+

san jose sharks: unlike the hawks, seem to be actively prepared to break out of the rebuild and trying to do it. toffoli? great! wennberg? a little overpaid but they're trying to hit the cap floor at this point so it's quite good! rumours of pavs return to san jose but you didn't hear it from me. B+

vancouver canucks: jake debrusk is gonna be a good linemate for petey imho. the hronek and myers contracts were a little rich but honestly they seem to be a lot more coherent ideologically than they were just a couple years ago. B

vegas golden knights: basically lost every remaining original misfit/otherwise quality forward in an effort to keep marchessault, and then lost marchessault anyway to the Power Of Divorce. and now they have ilya samsonov as their starting goaltender. F

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (PART EIGHT)

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7 - 8

notes: i feel that this chapter is very underwhelming bc i wrote it at work 🫡 so sorry

y/ndevils00

liked by siegenthaler34, nicohischier, and 32,542 others

y/ndevils00 hi people! thank you for tuning into tonight’s (brief) postgame recap! this is a very sad night for my favorite boys, as we lost 6-1 to the winnipeg jets.

we had a meager three penalties tonight!

starting off with erik, who has banned me from making any more name puns (boring!). erik got a penalty for tripping, bringing him up to an astounding 47 penalty minutes this season!

next, i’d like to bring your attention to jack’s picture. nothing special, i just like it.

and then, of course, we have my boyfriend again; chewing on his glove like a rabid little chihuahua <3

the next penalty was from siegs at the very end of the 1st period for high sticking! i had dawson do my dirty work for me and give him a very stern talking to during intermission!

next up, we have hershey bar looking very displeased, and i can’t say i blame him!

we got a little over halfway through 3rd period before we got the final penalty from the newest swiss, timo for holding! he took a lesson from my very rude boyfriend and hid behind the stanchion. i very much did not like that.

however, our lone goal came with SECONDS left in the game, scored by the captain himself! who still looked very disappointed to say the least.

and lastly, bff number 1 says i should apologize to bff number 2 for dissing him last night 😒 so we have a picture of marinara and i’m supposed to tell him that i’m proud of him (i’m not sure what for though? he didn’t do anything 🤷‍♀️)

tagged ehaula, jackhughes, siegenthaler34, nicohischier, tmeier96 and john.marino97

ehaula i know i asked you to stop but now it feels weird without the name puns

y/ndevils00 so….

ehaula so you can do the puns

y/ndevils00 OH THANK GOD! do you realize how hard it was to withhold from them?! it was torture!

ehaula it’s been one post

user18 i’ve become so used to the “haula” puns that i forgot who erik was for a second

siegenthaler34 i made my y/n post debut!

y/ndevils00 it could’ve been for a better reason…

nicohischier you weren’t even there but you still got 2 horrible photos of me

y/ndevils00 i have spies everywhere

nicohischier what does that even mean?

y/ndevils00 guess you’ll never know

jackhughes why?

y/ndevils00 why what? why do i praise you when you don’t appreciate it? i don’t know, you would think i would’ve learned by now

jackhughes no. why the 2nd picture? why do you like it? why call me a chihuahua?

y/ndevils00 i like it. your eyes are so pretty and blue. because you’re small and scrappy and chew on everything.

jackhughes i’m 5’11

y/ndevils00 sure you are honey

dougieham if you went just based off y/n’s posts and comments, i don’t think anyone would ever guess that her and marino are genuinely best friends

y/ndevils00 it’s called tough love <3

john.marino97 she’s evil

trevorzegras i’m forever grateful that i’m a duck so i’ll never be subjected to the torture you put these guys through

y/ndevils00 there’s always next trade szn 😈

trevorzegras the ducks would never trade me

y/ndevils00 i have friends in high places… watch your back zegras

tmeier96 hughesy told me to sit there before i went into the box. he didn’t tell me why but i guess now i know

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes do you not love me? do you not want to see me happy? this is why luke is my favorite

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 luke is your WHAT?

lhughes_06 @/y/ndevils00 i feel so special! thank you y/n/n!

john.marino97 i have multiple questions. starting with: why is DAWSON bff number 1? and i didn’t get a penalty so you could be proud of me for that???

y/ndevils00 i like him better. and that’s very true, however you didn’t get a goal or an assist either so….

dawson1417 translation: y/n holds you to a higher standard because she knows how well you play. she knows you can do better but she’s proud of you regardless.

john.marino97 @/dawson1417 well why doesn’t she say it like that? that’s kinda sweet!

y/ndevils00 emotions are for the weak

john.marino97 @/jackhughes i think your girlfriend is broken

jackhughes she just likes to seem tough on the internet. watch this 👀

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 i love you so much sweet girl ❤️ i can’t wait to get home

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes i love you too, now come home!

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 aww you miss me?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes sure, but also you lost your game which means you lost the bet and you have to give LSH her bath <3

[iwtvfanevents]

Rewind the tape —Episode 3 highlights

One of our favorite scenes is...

Louis and Jonah's flirting at the Azalea. We love seeing Louis slipping back into flirty confidence (rare Louis #rizzler moment); and they both look simply gorgeous —the way they're lit, Jonah's smile, Louis' beautiful red fit, all of it! 

Did you know that Jonah's actor, Thomas Antony Olajide, auditioned for the role of Louis? Adam O’Byrne, producer on the show talks about it on Winnipeg Free Press:

What's a favorite scene of yours? Maybe Louis setting the tapes on fire, or those shared drinks with Daniel? Lestat at the piano, or the confrontation by the incinerator? Maybe Fenwick finally getting his comeuppance? 

Reblog with your highlights, or make a new post with the tag #vampterview to join the conversation! And, if you're just getting caught up, learn all about our group rewatch here ►

[riveronline]

if you never say your name out loud to anyone

˗ˏˋ 𓂃 (  robert pattinson.  cis male.  he/him ).  meet  river mccarthy-pearce ,  a  thirty seven  year old,  who  has  been  in  cloyne  for  ten years.  they  are  the owner  at  the  final  chapter,  known  for  being  humble  and  withdrawn.  they  are  often  heard  humming  along  to  better  by  regina spektor.  residents  would  describe  them  as  the  child star.

they can never ever call you by it

THE BASICS:

name: river zachary mccarthy-pearce

pronouns: he/him

gender: cis male

birthday/zodiac: thirty seven, march 25th. aries.

birthplace: winnipeg, canada

relationship status: single

sexuality: unlabeled

occupation: owner of the final chapter bookstore

pets: a pet frog named violet.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:

height: 6'1

build: athletic

eye color: blue

hair color: light brown

piercings: ear lobes (and a long-healed tongue and belly button piercing)

tattoos: none.

PERSONALITY/INTERESTS:

traits: compassionate, understanding, humble, withdrawn, pessimistic.

likes: re-reading a series of unfortunate events on a loop, waving up at the night sky just in case there’s someone out there, warm scarves, sitting in comfortable silence,

dislikes: cold pizza, not being to find a matching sock, being recognized for his acting, ants

music tastes: listen to it yourself here

HEADCANONS/BIO:

cw. for drug use.

born in winnipeg, river was the eldest and only son in a family of all girls. his parents had divorced not too long after birth, so he spent his childhood with his mom and his four younger sisters.

river got his start in acting by playing the quirky best friend and/or annoying brother characters in a series of disney channel original movies and made-for-tv films in the late 90's and very early 2000's. his credits included classics like 'dude, my science teacher's a zombie!', 'smart house 2: mom of the year' and 'psyched out!' his also made an appearance on an episode of svu.

at first, river acted because he thought it was fun. he got to do stupid stuff on camera and get paid! sure, the hours were grueling, and some of his adult co-stars acted a little creepy sometimes, but it was better than school! but as he reached his teenage years, the only offers that were coming were more of the same. goofy brother, class clown, best friend side character. people weren't interested in seeing river in anything serious. and at age sixteen, he called it quits. he had grown out of prat falls and stupid nickelodeon-level humor. he didn't even want to attempt to break into serious acting. he wanted out.

after he quit acting, river went down the stereotypical 'former child star' path. he partied. hard. he was lucky for the fact that he hadn't been relevant enough to have been slandered all over tmz headlines like some of his old co-stars, but if anything that have him more leeway to do crazy shit. he was drunk constantly, he pierced his own tongue in the bathroom of a wendy's while on a coke bender, he hooked up with anyone and everyone. and then, inevitably, he crashed.

river's sisters sat him down after he was caught shoplifting from an american girl store while in L.A. they had finally had enough. either river went to rehab or they were cutting him out of their lives. river didn't have friends, he only had his sisters. he couldn't afford to lose them. so rehab it was.

river then moved back to canada, back to winnipeg with his sisters, and tried to keep a low profile. he got enough residuals from re-runs that he knew he could get away with not doing anything for a few years. he hated having to do simple things like go to the store. the idea of people recognizing him made him feel sick. he tried to keep his social media all private so he could avoid the comments of 'omg he's still alive! i loved you in psyched out!'. he didn't want to be reminded of how he wasted his entire childhood on a film set instead of living an actual life.

at age 27, river made the choice to finally try and start fresh. using his disney channel money, river bought the abandoned book store in a town called cloye and did his best to bring it back to life. he kept his head down, didn't really speak to anyone, and buried himself in whatever books he could find.

with disney+ being a thing now, he's gotten a resurgence of people watching his old movies, so river doesn't ever stray out of town. he does his gardening, drinks his tea and is anyone asks, he's never done anything interesting in his life ever.

[huuuuughes]

Be My Forever - Laurent Brossoit

Pairing: Laurent Brossoit x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: none, just fluff

A/N: lightly inspired by the song Ask You Tonight by Big Time Rush, linked here to give you the vibes <3

I'm gonna tell you tonight Everything you wanna hear And for the rest of my life Plus like a million more years You're the only one I wanna love The only one, this I promise ya If that sounds alright I might just ask you tonight

The way you had met Laurent was always one of those things that made you think. Both of you had just happened to be in the right place at the right time. You were a sports journalist, traveling wherever your station sent you at any given moment. But then your flight had been delayed and then canceled. Your only options of getting to where you needed to go were to sleep on the airport floor or rent a car and drive through the middle of nowhere central California, to Bakersfield. Sometimes you loved covering minor leagues, but at times like this, getting to the middle of nowhere was a huge pain in the ass.

It was late, almost midnight, and you were exhausted. Then Laurent appeared, apparently also from the flight that got canceled. He was coming back from a holiday break with his family during All-Star weekend, and needed to get back to his team. There was one car left at that hour that was ready to go, and he told you to throw your things in the trunk. He didn’t leave room for argument, and you had no idea if you were getting into a car with a serial killer never to be heard from again. Luckily he wasn’t, and that car ride was the best choice you could have ever made.

He liked to say that the universe was looking out for the two of you, putting you where you needed to be. Ever since then, you went through everything together. Sometimes your career took you away for long periods of time, and every year you seemed to be living somewhere different. You had decided early on that the two of you were in it for the long haul, you were there for all of the ups and downs that the sports world decided to throw at you. At the end of this last season, his one year contract had expired and he signed with another team. Which meant you’d be packing up all of your belongings and moving, again.

After ten years together, you knew the drill by now. You knew how to pack your things and in what order, even having a mover on speed dial. A lot of teams gave you assistance with that kind of thing if they could, and you’d always take it. The off season at least gave you a bit of time to rest, and gave you the opportunity to celebrate your ten year anniversary. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, hoping maybe that this would be the year a ring would finally appear on your finger. You always said the ring didn’t matter, because at the end of the day you loved each other and that was all that mattered. That’s what you told yourself anyway, but that didn’t stop everyone and their mom from asking when the two of you were going to get engaged or get married or have a baby. Soon, you’d always say, soon. It had been just the two of you for so long, you almost didn’t know how to adjust to something different.

Half of your apartment was in boxes, getting ready for the move to Chicago. But you’d saved a couple of choice outfits for this night, as he had been dropping some not so subtle hints of having big plans for it. Winnipeg had become kind of home, after being welcomed back to the team with open arms. It was a return to some kind of stability, and you would miss looking out the city lights of Downtown Winnipeg whenever you wanted.

“Are you almost ready to go love?” You heard Laurent yell from the living room area.

“Just a second babe!” You yelled back. You had on your favorite outfit, the one you wore that made him have googly eyes like a teen boy in a cartoon movie. The look that told you he couldn’t wait to rip it off of you later. Complete with the necklace he had gotten you on your first anniversary, and a few other pieces you had that you loved, you were just about ready to go.

The way time stops when I'm with you You fix me up like I'm brand-new Now I'm no longer waiting on forever love

“I’m ready!” You yelled, hearing him turn off the tv and jump off the couch.

Walking out into the living room you saw him turn around and bring his hand up to cover his jaw that was most likely hanging wide open. He studies you, walking towards you slowly. He never failed to make you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

“You look stunning, as always. There are not enough words in the English language to describe the way you look right now, love.”

“Flattery will only get you so far, sir. Are you going to tell me where you’re taking us?” He took your hand, grabbing his keys off the counter, and not even letting go of your hand so you could walk through the door.

“Nope.”

“Please?” You had a love hate relationship with surprises, and you usually had some idea of what he was planning but not this time. The man was bad at keeping secrets from you, knowing each other inside and out.

“You can try gorgeous, but you will not succeed in getting me to crack.” You watched him pat his pockets before getting on the elevator, he was making sure he didn’t forget something.

“UGH. Fine. You aren’t going to make me wear a blind fold in the car again are you?” He had blind folded you almost every year for a surprise. You hated not having any control over the situation, but he sensed that and took your hand again. Before you stepped into the underground parking garage, he stopped and pulled the eye mask out of his pants pocket.

“Before the car this time? I’m gonna trip and fall!” You even had heels on, which was a rarity, but also made you a higher risk for falling flat on your face.

“I’m not going to let that happen I promise. I’m going to lead you right to the car, and I’ll even buckle your seatbelt for you okay? Safety first pookie.” You tried not to laugh, he was trying to distract you.

“Don’t you pookie me, you’re lucky I love you.”

“I love you too, now please just trust me!” You nodded, letting him place the eye mask on you. You could feel the anxiety boiling in you as he led you to the car. He turned on your couples playlist, the one you started all those years ago when you first started dating. You had just been adding to it over the years, and it was the default on each anniversary or special occasion. The car ride was quiet, only adding to the anticipation you were feeling. You couldn’t sense a direction or any kind of pattern with his driving.

“We’re almost there, just a few more minutes.” He squeezed your hand before you heard him turn on his turn signal.

A few minutes later you felt him put the car into park. Getting out himself, he came around to open your door for you. He helped unbuckle your seatbelt, and guided you out. Once you were standing upright again, he kissed both of your cheeks.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, the anticipation is killing me!”

“I’m going to take off the blindfold now, but close your eyes at first and only open them once I tell you okay?” You nodded, and felt him take it off. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“Okay, you can open them now. Happy anniversary my dear.” Once you opened your eyes you couldn’t help but gasp at the scene before you. This year was different.

There was a path lined with candles, illuminating your way inside a large building you recognized as the Manitoba Museum Planetarium. Every couple feet there were dozens of your favorite flowers lining the path as well, taking your breath away. You used to come here when he was first traded to Winnipeg, you’d come together when you had the time and would sit in the planetarium for hours looking at the stars. You used to make up names for them even though you knew they already had them, but it was one of your favorite things that you used to do together. Laurent offers his arm to you and you take it, allowing him to lead you down the path and inside the building.

Once inside, you realized there was no one else in the room besides the two of you and one museum employee. There were more candles inside, wickless thank god or else you would have slapped his arm a little, but it still made the scene beautiful. In the middle of the room there was an arrangement of blankets, pillows, a bucket filled with one of your favorite champagnes, and what looked to be a full take-out spread from your favorite local restaurant.

“Laurent.. You didn’t..Are we the only one’s here?” It wasn’t often that you were rendered speechless, but somehow this man still managed to surprise you every now and then.

“I might have rented out the whole place for the night, just the two of us. I wanted tonight to be special.”

“I know, ten years is a long time.” You smiled.

“And no one is going to pop out from the shadows and yell surprise?” You had to ask.

“No, you’ll see.” He pointed toward the beautiful set up on the floor, and gestured to lead you there. You couldn’t stop looking at him, reminding yourself of the amazing life you created together. You knew how lucky you were, you would never take a single thing you had for granted, especially Laurent. Your mom used to say there was someone out there for everyone, and once you found them you should never let go. You tried taking in more of your surroundings, taking in the moment and feeling grateful to be where you were standing.

Once you sat down, the planetarium lit up above you. You were looking at the night sky in all of its beauty, taking the scene before you in. The museum employee had now disappeared, leaving just the two of you alone. Laurent poured two glasses of champagne and handed one to you. Your eyes returned to Laurent, he was looking at you like you were the one holding up the moon you now saw in the sky.

“A toast, to us. Thank you for loving me the way that you do. I am forever thankful for the bad weather that one night ten years ago.” The sound of your glasses clinking together rang out in the room. He set down his glass, and kissed you.

“What was that for?” You asked. “I just wanted one last kiss before I do this.”

“Laurent, what are you talking about?” This couldn’t be it. Was this it? You’d never tell anyone, but you had dreamed of this moment your whole life. He brought his hand up to his breast pocket, pulling out a little box. You knew exactly what that box had inside it.

I'm gonna tell you tonight Everything you wanna hear And for the rest of my life Plus like a million more years You'rе the only one I wanna love Thе only one, this I promise you If that sounds alright I might just ask you tonight

He shifted his position to that of being on one knee. In shock you brought your hands up to cover your mouth, somehow not ready for the moment you’d thought about for so long.

“Laurent I-” He hadn’t even said anything yet and you couldn’t seem to find any words now.

“My love. I knew the moment that I saw you in that airport ten years ago that you were the one for me. It feels like just yesterday, two strangers caught in a whirlwind of delayed flights and unexpected detours. But that was exactly where we were supposed to be. Little did I know that this chance encounter would lead me to my forever home—you. Everything was going wrong that day, until I met you.”

You could feel tears creeping into your eyes, hearing how much he loves you.

“Through every move, every game, and every new city, you have been my anchor and my rock. I know this life isn’t easy, and it isn’t always the one you wanted. You are my safe space, my unwavering support, and the person I can always count on. Your laughter and warmth light up even the coldest days, and I can honestly say that you make every place we go feel like home. You are everything I never knew I needed, and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

He brought up the box and opened it, revealing the ring he had been hiding all along. It was everything you had ever imagined it to be and more. You could tell he had been taking notes over the years, and had added in elements you mentioned so long ago.

“I know I’ve waited way too long to do this, and I will regret it for the rest of my days for not asking you the day we met but I didn’t want you to think I was some crazy person. You inspire me to get out of bed each morning, to accomplish amazing things for you, and the reason I’ll never stop working to be a better person. Every time I look up into the stands and see you, I know you’re there just for me. I have seen your kindness and your strength and the way that you share those qualities with others. I have seen the best and worst parts of you, and I understand with everything I am that you are the most incredible person I have ever known or will know. I promise to be everything you need me to be, I promise to be the home you can always count on. I can’t wait to see what we do in the future. I could kneel here for hours and tell you how much I love you over and over again, but I don’t think it would ever be enough so I’ll ask you this; Would you please do me the great honor of marrying me and making me the happiest man in the world?”

He takes the ring out of the box and holds it up for you to see. Finally the shock begins to wear off, the weight of his heartfelt words sinking in. You knew he loved you but had never fully grasped how much until now.

“YES! Yes!” You couldn’t find any other words to say, but it was enough. He slipped the ring on your finger, admiring his work and you at the same time.

“Now get up here and kiss me you big goon.” You told him.

“My love, goalies are not known for their stellar knees later in life so you might need to help me a little…!” A laugh escaped your lips just a little, causing him to laugh as well. Instead of trying to get up, he switches positions and brings you down into his lap. Placing his hands on either side of your head, he kisses you the way that you had been hoping for all evening. You didn’t want to move from that spot for a very long time, wanting to freeze this exact moment in time for as long as possible.

“How long can we stay here?” You asked, the museum employee did have to go home at some point in time.

“As long as you want. It’s ours for the next several hours, and we are completely alone until I make a call for them to close up…” He raised his eyebrows at you, attempting to drop a hint.

“Sir, we are NOT doing that here!” You tried not to let him see that you were smiling.

“Why not?” His tone tried to sound innocent but it wasn’t working well.

“Because then all of this food is going to get cold, and that would be a crime wouldn’t it?” You definitely were not going to let your favorite food go to waste. He could take you home later and have his way with you, but you were going to torture him for just a little while longer.

“A crime against who?” He asks as he helps you start to unpackage the food.

“Me and my stomach that’s who.” You couldn’t think of a better evening, eating amazing food and being cuddled up next to your favorite person.

“Now we couldn’t have that now could we?”

“Absolutely not. But the quicker you eat, the faster you can take me home and have your way with me…” His eyes lit up at that moment, “But I think I’m going to take my time you know? You made me wait ten years for this..” A groan escaped from him but he was still smiling.

“I know I’ve said it a lot tonight, but I love you. I love you so much.” Laurent rests his forehead against yours as if you could feel everything he was feeling in that moment. There was something about how his actions told you of his love, like getting closer to you was the only way that he could accurately give all of himself to you. He was telling you without telling you, that you were the one. The two of you were in it for the long haul, wherever life would take you.

“I love you too. Happy anniversary my love.”

[wyattjohnston]

all fic | universe | gifs | exchanges

(alphabetical order by team, then by player)

updated: 4 Aug '24

* = contains smut

boston bruins

charlie mcavoy

kiss it better now

carolina hurricanes

andrei svechnikov

kinda hope they catch us

tyson jost

it’s me & you

out of ten

this is getting good now (series of one shots)

chicago

taylor hall

better at leaving* & i just keep coming back to you*

colorado avalanche

gabriel landeskog

‘til you give me all your love

nathan mackinnon

the second time

you always did feel just like home

dallas stars

jake oettinger

the saddest thing i know

roope hintz

no sound worse than silence

tyler seguin

ain’t no sunshine (#1, #2, #3, #4, #5, playlist)

edmonton oilers

jeff skinner

your eyes look like coming home

leon draisaitl

lock in your love

florida panthers

matthew tkachuk

don't want to miss you like this

you gotta kiss somebody (sometimes)

montreal canadiens

josh anderson

what am i to you?

nashville predators

nick blankenburg

need a little company

new jersey devils

dougie hamilton

i’ll bet you didn’t even know

jack hughes

make it weird

we all have our secrets

we don't have no time to waste (series of one shots)

nico hischier

late nights in the middle of june (series of one shots)

not perfect (but we were)

turbulent

new york islanders

mat barzal

all eyes, they're on you (series of one shots)

uh oh

new york rangers

chris kreider

toward a feminine sea

philadelphia flyers

erik johnson

only all the time (series of one shots)

joel farabee

fell in love with you in stages

travis konecny

take me as i am (series of one shots)

pittsburgh penguins

anthony beauvillier

into moonlight (series of one shots)

kevin hayes

got a hold on me* (series of one shots)

how those rumours fly

ryan graves

never saw you coming

to hold your hand (would be the bravest thing)

seattle kraken

andre burakovsky

dreamer (just like you)

we look good together*

jamie oleksiak

my picket fence

your eyes look like coming home

st louis blues

colton parayko

open your heart to me

kasperi kapanen

let's get these wheels in motion*

toronto maple leafs

mitch marner

give the stars something to watch

morgan rielly

sache que je serai la tienne (series of one shots)

william nylander

let's get these wheels in motion*

vancouver canucks

brock boeser

and i had silly dreams

take you one day at a time (series of one shots)

elias pettersson

been a long time coming

jake debrusk

stay forever

quinn hughes

closer than i ever even knew

let's finish what we started

until the light shines through

vegas golden knights

noah hanifin

the one who needs saving

washington capitals

nicklas backstrom

give up the game

pierre luc dubois

never said a thing

tom wilson

in the shadows & still want more

winnipeg jets

adam lowry

breaking all the rules

[prairietrashdotcom]

eee i got tagged to do a tag game by @mrcrepsley thank you :)

im tagging: @stitchedgrave @laceandgore @r0ttdweller @cherubgore @cannibaldotcom @unfading-scrutiny but if you've already been tagged in this one or dont feel like it its cool. n if i didnt tag u please do it if you want to also.

Do you make your bed? if by make you mean pull down the duvet so it can air out, then yes. dont worry about why that is.

What's your favorite number? 3, 9, 13, 27

What is your job? i have been a sporadically employed hermit for the last four years :( i am starting college again next week though (media focused program) and theres a lot of production-like activity where i live so hopefully in the future that works out.

If you could go back to school, would you? See above, but i do sometimes wish i could go back to my uni in canada, but only if i was single so i could at least try n fuck my history prof at least once

Can you parallel park? no :(

A job you had that would surprise people? i have no idea how i am perceived on here so i dont know if it would surprise people that i've ghostwritten a book and worked as an actor in a haunted house. those were probably the least surprising answers but other than that its just bartending and baking.

Do you think aliens are real? duh.

Can you drive a manual car? i cannot drive any car but im working on it, although public transport here is just decent enough that it isnt, like, urgent.

What's your guilty pleasure? i honestly feel less ashamed of my various sexual proclivities than i do about living for TLC's Sister Wives. watching that chode get left in the dust not once, not twice, but thrice was especially delicious.

Tattoos? i have four. both of the ones on my right arm are bird themed but that was unintentional. theres a little bird on my forearm from The Garden of Earthly Delights' middle panel, and then a lawn flamingo on my right shoulder. the lawn flamingo is heavily associated in Winnipeg culture with the Transcona neighbourhood, where my mom's from and where i lived for a few years. everyone else in Winnipeg clowns on Transcona for being white trash, which is not technically incorrect but its my favourite place. On my left wrist ive got a hand with an eye in it, and then a crescent moon surrounded by clouds on my left shoulder.

Favorite color? pink, black, light blues, ive been really into brown this year.

Favorite type of music? i love music in general, any type can be good as long as the people making it care about it but 80s alternative/new wave/punk will always hit so so good for me. and vintage or alternative country. and 90s alt.

Do you like puzzles? i love doing the nyt puzzles stoned every night but i will die before i give them any money to play them.

Any phobias? someone with prior knowledge of my phobias using them to torture me

Favorite childhood sport? i did kickboxing in my teens for a lil bit n it was really fun :)

Do you talk to yourself? chronically, but only out loud if im home alone or out in public alone.

What movies do you adore? to the surprise of no one; horror, especially trashy b-horror/horror comedy. also whatever The Butcher Boy (1997) dir. Neil Jordan (i will never stop evangelizing this movie please watch it sinead o'connor plays the virgin mary) is.

Coffee or Tea? coffee 100%. i live in tea country however. sometimes its nice but objectively the 'tea' people are talking about here (Barrys vs Lyons) tastes like a hot wet paper bag unless you put 3 teaspoons of sugar in it.

First thing you wanted to be when you grew up? either a palaeontologist or a goth, its hard to tell which came first. ironically my mom was much more supportive of my desire to be goth. this is the cognitive dissonance that came with being an early 2000s evangelical christian who listens to Rob Zombie and Evanescence. she eventually relaxed about jesus.

[cellythefloshie]

;; One Step Forward...Three Steps Back

Chapter Five of Cool for the Summer

Table of Contents

Chapter Four «« 🤍 »» Chapter Six

Summary: Andrei thinks Harper is avoiding him, and he isn't wrong... but it's so much more than that, and her family refuses to let it get out of hand.

TW: Implied depressive episode.

Word Count: 3k+

This series to be read in conjecture with @hockeyboysimagines I Loved You Three Summers.

While Andrei had intended for his time in Winnipeg to be spent with a focus on hockey, there was no ignoring the community that seemed to form so quickly around him. Seth had been connecting him with different trainers and facilities before their plane had left the ground back in Carolina. His parents had welcomed him with open arms, cooking him meals and treating them as if he were one of their own. This left Andrei feeling like he owed them. They wouldn’t accept his money, they were too humble for that - maybe he could get away with paying them something at the end of the summer, just before he left so they couldn’t try to pay it back. But until then, he helped out in any way he could, which meant he had gotten in the habit of checking the mail each morning. 

The key was small as he pinched it between two fingers tightly, scared he might drop it and lose it along the tall blades of grass that surrounded the Canada Post mailbox that was at the end of the street. It was a weird thing, not to have the mail delivered directly to your door, though he had come to understand the practicality of it all. It made it easier on the worker - though it didn’t stop them from mixing up the mail. Andrei flipped through each envelope casually as he walked along the sidewalk, reading the name and mailing address at the top to confirm each piece of mail was for Mr. or Mrs. Jarvis, only for him to freeze at the end of the driveway when he read a name that was only slightly out of place. Alexander. 

A smile grew over his features. He had been looking for a reason to knock on their door. Maddison seemed to be a staple around the Jarvis household, but Andrei hadn’t seen Harper since she had left him alone in the pool… with Seth - and that was over a week ago.

She hadn’t seen her in the yard, or by the pool since then, and for the first few days, her car was gone from the driveway before he could step out the door each morning. But for the last four days, her car remained parked at the top of the driveway, leaving Maddie’s Jeep and her father’s car to come and go with ease. Yet, Andrei hadn’t seen her once. She must have been avoiding him. It was the only explanation he could think of. 

He was going to change that. 

Walking up to the door, Andrei raised his fist and knocked against the screen door that rattled in its place. Beyond it, the second door was propped open, letting the warm summer breeze pass through the home. With the window open, Andrei could hear the life inside the house. The television was one - or maybe it was a radio - broadcasting a local news station. Leaning in closer, Andrei tried to peer in through the frost glass of the door. He saw a blur of shapes and colors, but he could smell the morning coffee in the air, lingering long after breakfast was finished. Then, cutting through the pleasantness of it all, was the harsh drag of aluminum against aluminum as the screen door was pushed open, sending Andrei back with a hop to avoid getting hit. 

His smile was stupid, almost laced with laughter at the thought that Harper may have tried to hit him with the door - but that smile fell into a firm, straight line at the sight of Mr. Alexander. 

The two had only met a handful of times, and each time Mr. Alexander had been nothing but respectful and kind towards Andrei… albeit he was an intimidating man with his narrow gaze, strong bone structure and police officer’s uniform. 

Andrei swallowed hard. 

“Morning, sir,” Andrei nodded, “there was a mixup in the mail.” He held up the single envelope with Harper’s name across the top. 

A large hand reached out for it, taking it from Andrei carefully. He watched as the older man’s face wrinkled with a frown, one that was hard to hide even as he quickly forced a smile back at Andrei. “I’ll tell her you stopped by.”

Before Andrei could bite his own tongue, he asked, “She’s not here?”

“Harper’s not feeling well,” Mr. Alexander spoke slowly, his voice and gaze low. 

Andrei couldn’t help but feel that there was more to it. That she really was avoiding him after what happened. It left an ache in his chest as he offered Mr. Alexander a crooked smile and a wave. His head hung low as he returned to the Jarvis' home. He placed the mail on the counter, earning a soft thank you from Mrs. Jarvis before his hand found the handle of his bag and he left out the Jarvis front door again, this time to meet his brother Evgeni who waited for him in his car at the end of the driveway. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

There was a kind of darkness that you could only really experience in a basement. There were no windows for light to filter in, leaving nothing for the eyes to see. Harper could have put her own hand in front of her face, and she still wouldn’t know it was there. Though she was pretty sure that she was staring at the wall. That was about all she knew. Harper didn’t know what day it was anymore. She didn’t know how long she had been awake, or what time it was. So quickly she had been lost in the heavy, dark void that surrounded her and she didn’t want to leave it. 

Her stubbornness, however, only had her father trying harder to draw her out from the basement. His arrival started as the soft sound of the basement door creaking open. Then, the smallest glimmer of light spilled down the stairs, casting a soft glow and shadows around what had quickly become her room. It outlined the laundry that needed to get done and the boxes that still needed to be unpacked fully. She had been living out of them since she had arrived home. If you could call what she had been doing, living. 

Harper coiled up in her bed at the sound of her father’s footsteps against the carpeted steps. They were hollow pillowy steps that wouldn’t have been heard anywhere else in the home. But the basement was quiet, empty sounding, so quiet Harper could often hear the sound of her own heartbeat and nothing else - but her father’s voice cut through it all. 

“Got some mail for you Harp.” His words were soft, warm like melted honey, a familiar comfort laced with desperation. 

Harper didn’t have to roll over to know that he was standing at the bottom of the stairs. It's where he always came to stand when he had come down to check on her. Concerned, but still respectful of the space she had created for herself since she had moved back home. 

Sighing, Harper curled into her blankets further. She said nothing. 

“Are you going to work today?” He asked, his voice soft, concerned. 

Harper said nothing. 

“You had a visitor again today. That boy keeps hoping to run into you, I think. He's a good kid.” 

That boy. Andrei. 

Harper had been avoiding him since their day in the pool. She got up earlier, came home later and planned her days with one goal in mind: to avoid him. It wasn't because he had done anything wrong, or that he annoyed her. It was because her father was right; he was a good kid. Andrei treated her with respect, with kindness. He was attentive, and interested in what she had to say or do, even if she was cold or acted uninterested. It was refreshing, yet jarring. Harper didn't know what to do with his attention. Back in the pool, it had left her heart and her mind racing in a way she couldn't explain and it had scared her. Not only had it left her retreating into her home, it left her spiraling into mourning over the relationship she had lost with Darren. With that came the anxiety of having to return home and having to start over alone at twenty-seven - a failure in her own mind, and she was sure everyone else's. 

Everyone but Andrei. 

The way he looked at her, it reminded her of a golden retriever sitting, waiting, for any bit of attention. He was so young. Innocent. A kid who would never understand what she had been through. 

So she hid away from him, from the world, even if that meant being lonely. 

The silence hung heavily in the air between Harper and her dad as she stood there, lingering, waiting for that heavy shadow to lift from its hold on her. But Harper only fell further into its grasp.

She missed the privacy of having her own place. 

She missed having someone to go home to at night.  

She missed the friends she had lost because of Darren, who was far from eager to take her back. 

Harper held her breath, choking back a son that sat in the very depths of her throat. 

“Well,” her father sighed, “I’ll be upstairs if you need anything-” 

Harper pulled the blanket up over her mouth, her face contorting with the ugliness of her silent sob as she listened to her father's footsteps disappear upstairs. She welcomes the silence, letting it surround her with the darkness, but it was short-lived. Another pair of footsteps could be heard not long after coming from the second story. Each one was loud, but not heavy. It wasn’t her father returning, but Madison. Harper was sure of it. Every impact sounded like more of a jump than a step that grew louder and louder until the basement’s carpeted steps muffled her steps and Madison was where their father once stood.

Slowly, trying not to be seen, Harper raised a single hand up and wiped the tears from her cheeks. But removing them couldn’t hide how her nose ran, and she was forced to sniffle it back, or that her eyes were left bloodshot from crying, which was what she often did as she lay there alone in the darkness with her thoughts. Surely her eyes were swollen too, and Madison would notice. She wasn’t as gentle as their father. He left her to lie in the darkness, but Maddie, she turned the lights on. 

Sighing, Harper let herself roll over in bed, her body becoming so tangled in the blankets it felt like a cobra constricted around her body. Her chest grew tight, forcing a long, deep breath before she spoke. “Dad send you down here?”

“No,” Maddie answered, but Harper was sure that was a lie. “I just wanted to come see my bright and cheery big sister.”

Harper watched as Maddie crossed her arms over her chest, a huff of frustration leaving her own body before she turned away to look at the wall. Sending Maddie down there with the tough love was low, even for dad. That had always been their mother’s job, and while she hadn’t been around long enough to teach Maddie her ways - that almost seemed to work - Maddie was impressively good at it. Harper hated it. 

“You two need to stop feeling sorry for me and just,” she let out a sigh, heavy with her own self-pity, “leave me alone.”

The bed shifted as Maddie sat down at the end of it and let out a short, breathy laugh. “No, Harper, I’m not going to leave you alone. Maybe you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

Harper’s expression fell into a soft scowl as she rolled over to face her little sister. Why did she have to be right? She shouldn’t be down there hiding away from the world. Not when there was so much she needed to do. To fix. To rebuild. Harper needed to start her life again, but it was easier to hide away. To do nothing, but she couldn’t admit that to Maddie. Not when she had always encouraged her sister to do the very opposite that Harper was doing herself. 

“I’m not-”

“Aren’t you?” Maddie cut her off, “because from where we are, it sure seems that way. You’ve been laying down here for almost a week. You haven’t gone to work. You’ve barely eaten... Now you’re trying to shut us out. We’re worried about you. I know you’ve gotten used to being cast to the side, but it doesn’t work that way in this house, and you know it.”

Harper looked away from her sister, her lips pressed firm together. Her family knew her better than anyone. There was no hiding how she was feeling from them, even if she tried to. 

“I know what you’re going through can’t be easy. In fact, I can’t even fathom how you’re feeling about it all, but don’t you think you might feel better if you actually tried to feel better? It’s not good for you to be down here all the time by yourself.” 

Maddie was right, there was no denying that, but Maddie and their father were all she had left. She had no old friends to reach out to. All those bridges had been burnt. And she already felt like such a burden to her family. 

“What am I supposed to do, Mads? You’re my old friend, and the only other person who wants anything to do with me is that kid.”

Harper bit down hard on her tongue. Why did she even say that? Why did she bring up Andrei? She didn’t know, but regretted it the moment she watched her sister’s smile grow. 

“You’re not really in the position to be choosy about friends, Harper - And what kid? You mean Andrei?”

Harper scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest and wrinkling the Eagle’s t-shirt she had been wearing for days straight. 

“Yeah, the man-child.”

“You don’t even know him,” Maddie shook her head slowly as she chuckled, “he’s not a bad guy and if you weren’t so insistent on being rude to him, you would know that.”

Rude? Harper quirked a brow. She didn’t think she had been rude, not entirely anyway. Cold and disinterested maybe, but not rude. 

“You sound just like dad,” Harper sighed, reaching for a pillow to hug to her chest, to hide behind. 

Maddie shrugged, “maybe Dad’s onto something. Harper, I know you’re still really hurting, but at some point, you know you have to try and heal, right? If not for us, for yourself. And I have the perfect way to start.”

Harper’s lip curled into a subtle scowl. He didn’t like how excited her sister got when she said that. 

“Some of my friends from school and I, we’re going to the fair by the cabin for Canada Day. You should come. Sarah’s sister is coming too, so it’s not like you’re going to be stuck with a bunch of us kids.” She spoke the last words with air quotes. 

It almost felt wrong hearing it that way. Especially since Harper was the one acting childish, trying to hide from her problems, while Maddie was reminding her so much of their mother. 

Pushing up from where she lay in her bed, Harper wrapped her arms around her sister in a tight embrace. “you know I didn’t mean it like that,” she spoke into her shoulder. 

Maddie laughed, “I know, and it’s okay. So you’ll come - it wasn’t a question, by the way. More of a statement.”

“Yeah,” Harper sighed with a smile, “I’ll come.”

“Good, now. What are you going to do about today? You’ve been in bed for days. Think maybe it’s time to face the world, Harper Alexander?” See that it’s not so bad out there?”

It wasn’t the world Harper was worried about. It was how she had to find her place in it alone that was the issue. Who was she supposed to be now that half of the life she had made for herself was gone?

“A run could do me some good, maybe?” Harper spoke quietly. She hadn’t run in days, and it always had been the one thing that could really clear her head. Neglecting that fact was wrong of her to do, but it would feel all the more therapeutic now. 

“That sounds great, but I’m not coming with you,” Maddie started, and Harper’s smile grew a little wider. Maddie wasn’t an athlete, but she was always her biggest supporter. “You know me, I don’t run unless I’m being chased, and even then I don’t like to sweat.” 

“I’d never expect that from you,” Harper assured as she slowly moved to get out of bed. Her body felt heavy, and so stiff. She would need a good stretch before she went out. Slowly, she moved to the boxes she continued to live out of and found a pair of shorts and a sports bra to change into once she was alone. 

“Good. I don’t want to see you for at least 45 minutes, an hour even, extra points if you throw another 30 minutes onto that. I mean it. Go clear your head and come back with a new outlook on things. But not for an hour. Or else.”

“Alright, alright, I’m gone. A whole hour,” Harper assured. She wasn’t sure she could run for that long after taking such a dramatic break, but she would run through the park and watch the geese if she had to. Maddie obviously wanted some time alone in the house, and after having to put up with her, she had earned it. 

The promise seemed to excite Maddie, because she was off like a shot, taking the steps two at a time as she ran back up the stairs. Harper could only shake her head at her sister as she peeled off her t-shirt and hung it over the door. She had to fight into the sports bra and jumped into her running shorts with ease. She stunk, she was sure of it, but she was only going to be worse when she got home. That was only confirmed as she reached her hands up to draw her hair back into a ponytail. Her hair was greasy, she could feel it on her hands as she twisted the hair band around once and then again so that her hair was in a high pony. She desperately needed a shower, but it could wait just one more hour. 

Like her sister, Harper took the steps two at a time and moved for the front door where her sneakers rested, untouched since her last run. She couldn’t remember exactly when that was, and the socks she had left on the floor nearby only reminded her that it had been too long. They were crusty in her hands, sending her retreating back down the steps to grab a mis-matched pair to wear. She pulled them on when she got back to the front door, a pink sock on one foot, and a black sock on the other, before she pulled on her running shoes. 

She was ready to go, but before she took off out the door, Harper made the mistake of looking in the mirror that hung in the entryway. Her eyes were red still and sunken. She hadn’t been sleeping well, and it left her looking like she hadn’t slept at all. The strands of hair that hung from her ponytail to frame her face looked stringy, heavy with the need to be washed for the first time in almost a week. It left her feeling disgusting. She let herself fall too far, and it could have gotten worse. It still could if she wasn’t careful. But she would have her family’s help. With them by her side, in time, she could heal. 

“I love you!” Was the goodbye she called out to her sister before she took an uneven breath to build the courage to set foot outside looking the way she did and feeling embarrassed by it all, Harper stepped out onto the front porch and welcomed the fresh air as it hit her. She had almost forgotten how good it could smell. The breeze forced the scent of their planted flowers and the smell of freshly cut glass. She even welcomed the buzz of the lawn mower. Dad must have been back doing yard work again. 

Harper forced on a smile as she stepped out into the warmth of the sun, and she looked around the front yard for him only to find it empty. Her brows furrowed. It sounded close. She looked to one neighbor, and then to the Jarvis house before she found the source of the noise. Next door, Andrei was cutting the grass. He looked to be almost done, maybe two more walks almost the length of the lawn left, yet he froze in the middle of the lawn when he spotted her. 

From the depths of her gut, Harper's stomach jumped into her throat. The lawnmower's hum still filled the air between them, keeping her from making a snide remark about Seth making Andrei do all his chores - and she was glad it did. She didn’t need anymore attention drawn to her. It was bad enough that someone she knew was seeing her in such a state. It left her chest tight in her chest, and her mind was loud with the demand to run inside and cower away again. But she fought against the negativity with the simple press of her finger against her phone screen as she held it down by her side. Her running playlist blasted into her ears at a noise level she was sure would give her hearing loss at an early age, and she let it drown out every thought in her mind. 

She let it fuel her, letting the music consume her body as she stretched out her legs on the front lawn. Harper let her body limber, her eyes drawn back to Andrei on occasion as she returned to pushing the lawn mower over the grass. He was surely done now, the grass all seeming the same length, yet he walked in circles, sweaty and shirtless and maybe, just maybe, watching her too. 

Harper smiled softly when she was sure she was ready to go and raised her hand in a subtle wave to Andrei as she moved towards the curb. He waved back, a smile growing on his own features as she acknowledged him there. Sure he was young, but Maddie and her dad were right, he seemed like a good kid. Harper, at the very least, could be neighborly while he was there–and, well, enjoy the view. 

If there was one thing Harper would forever deny, was how good looking the hockey player was with his muscle-toned body and strong jawline. But that wouldn't stop her from looking when she had the chance. Her eyes lingered on the beads of sweat as they traveled down his shoulders and chest, leaving her head dizzy as she gave it a quick shake.

She needed to focus. Harper needed to piece her life back together. To forge new friendships and to decide what exactly would come next for her. But first, she needed to run. 

Taglist: @starshine-hockey-girl @wingedwheelprxncess @mp0625 @misunderstoodwerewolf @callsign-denmark @puckmaidens @xciciix @cixrosie

[happer08]

blurb request nate comes home after the winnipeg series win and you tell him how proud you’re of him

Nate always called when he got back to the hotel. No matter what the outcome of the game was, regular season or playoffs. it was something you learned to look forward to, his usually game wore voice, horse from yelling, and arguing with the refs, mixed with a little bit of sleepiness melted your heart. So when your phone rang a few hours after they beat the jets you happily answered from where you laid in bed.

"Hi sweetheart" you smiled.

"Hi honey" his voice rumbled though the phone. It sounded like he was in bed already. "Did you get to watch?" he asked

"What kind of question is that?" you giggled back.

"A silly one i guess" You could hear the smile in his voice.

"you played great baby"

"Oh that's sweet, glad we got the win and can just come home for a while."

you closed your eyes and listened. He rambled for a few more minutes about the game, the missed calls and what he could have done better.

"Not putting you to sleep am i sweetheart?" he finally asked.

"No no, just listening baby"

He sighed.

"Is it bedtime baby?" you finally asked.

"Think so, but ill see you tomorrow"

"I love you so much, text me when you land"

"Will do, love you, bye"

Nate hung up and you rolled over hoping sleep would come fast, and it did.

The next day you slept in, in no rush to do anything as your day almost fully consisted of you waiting for your boyfriend to fly in.

You sat in the living room when the front pushed open. Nates voice echoed through the house as he entered.

“Hello?”

Jumping up, you ran toward the door and met him there with a huge smile on your face.

“Hi!” you said almost too loud before jumping into his arms.

“Hi baby hi” he smiled as you kissed over his face.

With one arm wrapped around you, Nate walked into the kitchen and plopped you on the counter before kissing you softly on the lips. You smiled against his lips and gently rubbed his cheek before he broke it and smiled at you.

“Hi” he smiled.

You smiled back, even bigger.

“im so proud of you” you whispered rubbing the high point of his cheek with your thumb gently.

Nates face warmed up a little under your touch as he softly smiled and kissed you again.

“Nothin to be proud of yet” he hummed between kisses.

“is too, you’re four in and look great”

Nate smiled again deepening the kiss and squeezing your hips.

“I love you, thank you for supporting me” he hummed quietly.

“Nothing I’d rather do, I love you so much”

[muskmelon-enjoyer-199x]

20, 42, 52 :)

20. what is your favorite song at the moment?

oooo, tough. probably

or

or

or

or

I've really been feeling Pat's later stuff recently. I never really got it when it first came out. I was a dumb teen and still vibing hard with the Johnny Hobo and Wingnut stuff. Now I'm behind my peers in my late 20s and trying to get my shit together for once in my life, so it's like, "huh."

42. favorite books

Where do I start?

"Nevada" by Imogen Binnie. The protagonist Maria is literally me in every single possible way, in the worst way possible lmao. She goes on a road trip after her life falls apart and meets a depressed young man in northwestern Nevada who is blatantly a repressed transsexual. CW for drug abuse, autogynephilia discussion, and one mention of BDSM.

"Little Fish" by Casey Plett. Amazing book. It's about a Mennonite-raised trans woman in Winnipeg who has to get back into prostitution to make ends meet. CW for sexual violence, alcoholism, suicide, etc.

"Sovietistan" by Erika Fatland. The author travelled through every country in Central Asia around 2010 and wrote about her experiences in each of them. Some of the anecdotes are insane, and she treats her subject matter in a very human way (which is unfortunately not common in writing about the region). Definitely worth reading.

"Orlando" by Virginia Woolf. I must've read this 10 times my freshman year of college. A teenage Elizabethan nobleman gets transformed into a woman (happily enough) by spirits and lives that way for 400 years.

"The Man Who Spoke Snakish" by Andrus Kirivähk. This is a fantasy story about a dying pagan community during the Christianization of Estonia. They talk to snakes and live in the woods, but the youth keep running off to live in Germanicized Christian farming communities. This book has all kinds of stuff. There's magic, snake-human cultural exchange, culturally-pagan irreligious people who hate the high priest, vicious polemics against bread and porridge, and remnants from another human species who live in the trees and tame lice. There's some weird stuff about women marrying bears instead of men (i swear it came out before the tiktok thing lmao) and some really brutal war scenes, but it's definitely my favorite fantasy book of all time. Better than The Hobbit, and I love the Hobbit. It's so good. It's so so so so so good.

52. something i'm talented at

Im a decent cook! here are some photos:

(clockwise: general tso's tofu, surinamese moki alesi, a japanese version of mapo tofu, and my favorite swedish pizzasallad)

[croszukis]

posting pwp before noon on a saturday just for @habsfic

kovy/arber — shower sex

Johnny’s heard the stories okay, about what goes on in NHL showers. He still hadn’t witnessed any of it himself yet, but he’d only played four games with Winnipeg before being put on waivers. So had he really been in the NHL?

When it was obvious he was going to be playing with the Habs, at least for now, he thought it was finally time. Especially with guys on the team like Cole, who seemed to love getting attention any way he could, or Savvy, a long time vet in the league. But there wasn’t anything, not even between Nick and Cole who he’d seen kiss on the team bus or with Slaf who had that youthful excitement and eager to please anyone kind of vibe about him. 

Johnny was a little disappointed, honestly. 

They were showering after a game and it was a good win at home, against the Avs too, and he thought if there was ever a time for some celebration it’d be now. He glanced around the room, trying to gauge everyone else, but they all stood at their own shower head, breezing through their routines like normal. 

“What are you looking at, Kovy?” Arber chirped from next to him. 

It made Johnny snap his eyes back to the wall in front of him, feeling caught out when he hadn’t really done anything wrong. There might not have been any of the action he was expecting, but nobody cared if you looked. 

“Nothing.” He shampooed his hair roughly, like he just remembered what he was actually supposed to be doing. “Just—I thought NHL showers were supposed to be a little more wild. Haven’t you heard the same?” 

Arber laughed, short and surprised, and Johnny turned to sneak a glance at him. Arber was looking back, facing him as the shower water pelted the side of his face. “Didn’t know you were into that.” That was all he said, still unmoving. 

Johnny closed his eyes as he rinsed out the shampoo, “Well, I dunno if I am. I was just curious to see if it was true, that’s all.” 

He heard Arber shut off his water and assumed he was done and walking away from this disaster of a conversation. But when Johnny opened his eyes again he saw that Arber hadn’t walked away at all. Instead he was getting down on his knees by Johnny’s side. 

“What are you doing?” Johnny peered down at him.

“Giving you your first NHL shower blowjob, obviously.” That made his dick perk up, already starting to get hard just at the promise of it. Arber grinned goofily up at him and it was hard to believe this was the same dude who grabbed two guys and yanked them out of scrums without any real effort at all. 

Johnny’s only response was shifting so his body was angled towards Arber. He jumped right in, mouthing at Johnny’s cock and teasing him into full hardness. One of Arber’s big hands rested on his flank, water still rushing around them. 

Finally, he took him into his mouth and Johnny hissed, overwhelmed by how hot and wet everything felt. It was kind of amazing to see Arber like this, weirdly vulnerable, and it gave Johnny a weird feeling of pride and tenderness in his chest. He brushed some of Arber’s hair (that stupid haircut Johnny wished he hated more than he actually did) out of his face as he bobbed smoothly on his cock. 

His eyes were closed and he looked serene, almost; totally at odds with the fact that they were in the middle of their team’s showers with most of their teammates still around. Johnny dug his fingers into the top of Arber’s shoulder, like he was anchoring himself to him. 

He wasn’t really capable of much actual thought, not with the way Arber was sucking him, but he told himself to find a way to thank Arber for this later. He was pretty sure Arber hadn’t had a NHL shower blowjob of his own, surely Johnny wouldn’t have missed that between the beginning of this season until now. He could do that. And find out what it felt like to be on the other side of it—the splashes of hot water on cooling skin and the harsh title under his knees.

Johnny was just curious.