#hockey!persuasion

[malk1ns]

1st sentence ask - "It's gameday so you better not knot me"

Zhenya blushes when he says it, but with the way Sid's been following him around all morning, from the weights room to video review and even into the trainer's despite Zhenya's protests, he thinks it needs to be said.

The team is already on tenterhooks, watching them like hawks—with Zhenya's heat approaching like a freight train and the way Sid's been haunting his footsteps, they're ready to pull the plug on the whole experiment if it looks like it's going to negatively impact the on-ice product, and Zhenya thinks both of them missing a game because Sid pinned him down and tied them together would definitely qualify.

"Hmm," Sid says, crowding into Zhenya's space; he's shorter, but the width of his body makes Zhenya feel small, even younger than he is, like he wants to curl up in the protective crush of Sid's arms and let Sid do whatever he wants.

Omega instincts are a real bitch, but Zhenya's made it to the NHL on nothing more than will and grit, and he's determined that he won't be.

Sid's voice is hypnotic when he puts his lips to Zhenya's year and murmurs, "I think you don't mean a word of that," and Zhenya shivers, because it's true.

first line ask game!

[linskywords]

Hi Linsky, love love all of your work and ‘more than i could ever promise’ is one of my favorite fics ever! I was looking through old tags and saw you mentioned a 1988 Persuasion AU, is that still something that’s in the works?

Funny you should mention that! I was actually just thinking about how I would love to write a story for Jack Eichel and Noah Hanifin now that Noah's been traded to the Knights, and the more I thought about it the more it was obvious that Persuasion is the perfect narrative for them. They fall in love in the USNTDP and stay together when they're both in Boston, but then someone (a parent?) convinces Noah that if they try to stay together long-distance when they're both in the NHL they'll be miserable and get outed and ruin both of their careers. Noah's not sure he'd be able to bring himself to break up with Jack if it was just his own career at stake, but if if staying together means also ruining Jack's...

So he breaks up with Jack, and Jack is furious and betrayed, and they don't speak for years. Noah resigns himself to being loveless in a career that feels lonelier by the year, and he thinks that if he could go back in time he would tell his eighteen-year-old self to forget about caution and practicality and just stay with the person who meant the most to him in the world. But it's obviously too late for that now. They play in different countries, and Jack won't even talk to him.

But then Jack has to talk to him, because Noah gets traded.

[portablecity]

So I found a metaphor that helped me explain the appeal of Jane Austen and similar movies/books:

- the dialogue that happens on screen is about as relevant to what’s happening in the character’s minds/hearts/etc as an interview with one of the hockey players before a team game

- much like the fun of watching teams play one another over the season and collect rivalries and beefs they would never just, like, explain to a reporter, the fun of the jane austen plot comes from the reader’s ability to put together all the clues to the emotional rollercoaster happening behind the scenes

- which builds tension and anticipation to the inevitable face-off/all-out brawl/intense emotional confession scene

which then leads me to the thought that a jane austen novel maybe is to a hockey season what a harlequin novel or hallmark holiday movie is to, maybe, wrestling?

[residenthughes]

persuasion - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x fem reader

word count: 5.7k

tags/warnings: college/university au, fluff, slight angst?, fratboy! jack (he's sweet in this, dw), mentions of alcohol/drinking, no mention of y/n

summary: you get a bit more than you bargained for when paired up with all-american hockey star, jack hughes.

notes: hi. it's been a (long) while since i've posted on here. not to mention, i'm back writing about someone a bit different 😭 but i've recently gotten into the nhl and this fic is the result of me drunkenly coming across this photo a few days ago. despite the changes on this blog, i hope this post finds you well and that you enjoy this (poor) attempt of me getting back into writing. much love <3

The end of the semester couldn’t have come sooner. Swapped with what was possibly the busiest you’ve ever been, the sweet relief after submitting your last assignment was unparalleled and lulled you to a much deserved slumber, only to be awoken by a barrage of messages pinging from your bedside table. Disgruntled, your arm extends in search of your phone, groaning into your damp pillow as you blink away the tired film coating your eyes and read the messages from your best friend.

frat house party tonight, presence is mandatory! 

all the girlies are onboard, your sexy ass better be ready by 9!

Another groan emits from you, exhaustion seeping through your bones at the mere mention of doing something else besides rotting in bed. You’re about to type some incoherent excuse, but your best friend beats you to it.

apparently, z and his guys are going. 

chances are jack’s there too.

There’s a messy stutter in your chest upon reading the message and suddenly, you’re more awake than before as you gingerly sit yourself up in your bed. Of course, she’d mention he was going just to convince you further. You weren’t even aware she knew of your crush. Considering you hadn’t mentioned him much besides when asked, his name being referenced feels more intrusive than it should be. Then again, as perceptive as she is, there was no denying the fact.

Jack and yourself had worked on a group project earlier in the semester, which is how the two of you had crossed paths. Upon hearing of the task at hand, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh because you were never a fan of working with others you didn’t know, but considering none of your friends took your class, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get to know others and build your social circle. When your assigned group had got together towards the end of the lecture to discuss formalities and such, you hadn’t expected the whirlwind that was to come in the presence of a sandy brunette haired boy. 

Jack is as easy-going as he is charming. Cracks a couple jokes and suddenly, all the ice isolating your group dissolves to water and there are constant hums of conversation bouncing off every member of your group. He’s nice too, considerate of everyone’s schedule and what tasks they felt confident in completing, never uttering a word of complaint unless warranted. It’s interesting, he’s interesting, you think to yourself. Perhaps due to the fact that since he’d revealed himself to be in a frat, you had some preconceived notions as to what his personality would be like and maybe at times, he’d fit that stereotype to a tee, there were other times he’d stray away from it completely and leave you curious as ever.

Peculiar is what you’d describe those few weeks to be, your interest gravitating towards any relation to Jack. Heart beating as you walked past your university’s ice arena, knowing he practically lived on the ice beyond his time in class. Eyes lighting up when he texted in the group chat, mental fuzziness plaguing you every time you sat across from one another as you completed your portion of work in the university’s library. You’d be a fool to dismiss the budding attraction you felt towards him, spinning your world round but also leaving you feeling so unsure of everything, yourself included. There’s no scarcity of girls who like him, it proved to be difficult resisting the All-American hockey star with looks to match. However, taking into account the sheer volume of attention directed his way everyday, your lingering glances didn’t seem to be much more significant. So, one-sided this crush remains to you, storing away the quiet memories of shared laughs and time spent together in a place close to your heart. 

That was until he invited you to his game, shortly after your project had been submitted for assessment. You wanted to go, you wanted to go so badly that you agonised over the decision for longer than necessary, but ultimately, as you laid awake that night, eyes blazing red with fatigue, doom scrolling to further delay your dreams, the evidence for your answer surfaced. It was nothing but a silly Instagram post from one of his friends, Trevor Zegras, the boyfriend to one of your friends. A collection of typical photos: the boys, hockey and more of the antics they got to. It’s in the last slide where in the background of a recent football game is none other than Jack, in all his handsome glory, grinning ear to ear as a girl envelopes him in a hug that feels too intimate to be seen. Embarrassment runs your skin hot and jealousy leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, the thought of you entertaining anything more than platonic with Jack a pipedream at best. Naturally, there can be so many explanations for the photo, but what rings true is that you’ve made yourself vulnerable to heartbreak, which is nowhere to be found on your agenda. So, you call it a night, turning off your phone and hoping to put the crush behind you come tomorrow.

And, it works for a bit. Jack doesn’t text you further and you don’t run into him on campus. Summer soon approaches and the last few days before your break have you buzzing with excitement for all the plans you have lined up. Your world doesn’t hinge on every interaction you have with Jack and your mind is freed from the shackles of mulling over every detail in said interaction. It’s liberating and you’d like to keep it that way. A fleeting crush, you reason, all said and done with. A mantra you repeat to yourself as you respond back to your best friend, gleaming as you and your group chat discuss outfits options and pinterest inspired makeup looks. 

-

There’s nothing better than being with your girls, you’re reminded, as the buzzing excitement never fizzles as the night stretches on. Controlled chaos dominates the night as you pack into one friend’s rooms to get ready together, helping each other with eyelash extensions and annoying back zippers. Someone makes the suggestion to drop by the campus bar for a drink or two, just to ease the nerves, and it turns out to be a great idea because by the time you stumble out of the bar and towards the frat house, the party’s in full swing. 

Trashed lawn and red cup galore, the music somehow manages to reach outside the house with hoards of people dotted around and inside the house. With the merry buzz you’ve got from the bar, confidence details your movements as you lead your friends with clasped hands into the packed house, mumbling a thousand ‘sorry’s as you trample on through the crowded hallways to find yourselves in one (?) of the living rooms. 

Hands suddenly grasp at yours and you’re thrown into a fit of giggles as your friends tangle themselves up in a messy but fun dance. You follow suit, fully relishing in the euphoria of the night and the found family you have in these girls as you dance and chatter until you have no choice to venture into the kitchen for a refreshment. 

Surprisingly, the kitchen is vacant as you push through towards its door you were directed to, scanning the room amongst belongings to find some mixer for your helping of vodka stashed away in your purse. Despite your better judgement, you resort to apprehensively searching through cupboards on your tippy toes in search for mixer and as you’re about to open the last cupboard, the kitchen door opens. 

“Looking for something?”

Goosebumps arise and your heart stills. You know that voice like the back of your hand, the same voice that echoes in the back of your mind and whispers sweet nothings in your ear when you dream. The fact that he’s so ingrained in your memory makes you curse at yourself, teeth gnawing on the plumpiness of your bottom lip as you attempt to recollect your racing thoughts. With a quiet breath, you sink back from your elevated posture and turn towards the source of the voice, blinking like a deer caught in the headlights. 

It’s comical how such a simple sight renders you a loss for words. In the doorway of the large kitchen stands Jack, shoulder and head leaning against the doorframe as he looks at you with an expectant look and a cheeky grin to match. His legs are crossed at the ankles and he’s holding a beer, but he’s got this pearl white long sleeved polo on with washed out jeans and a black snapback to top it all off. The outfit in itself is so simple and yet, here you are, heart being sent into overdrive as the effortless combo drives you wild. Sets your skin alight and conjures up electricity that pulses through you like wildfire.

“Lemonade,” you gracefully croak out, gesturing towards your empty red cup. “I didn’t bring much to mix my drink with.”

“Here, I’ll help you with that,” he reassures you, bouncing off the door frame as he draws closer to you, your feet absently shifting a few steps backwards. “No need to back up. I don’t bite, you know?”

You huff at the comment, realising how foolish his mere presence makes you and will yourself to relax, shoulders easing down from your ears as you watch Jack search through the cupboards. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for, pulling out a large bottle of lemonade that coasts against the marble of the countertop. 

“Feel free to use as much as you like, I never usually have this myself anyways.” insists Jack, turning himself around with his back against the countertop, arms crossed his chest with a peering eye directed to you. 

“How thoughtful of you.” you jester as a brief chuckle is shared between the two of you, the loud thumps of heavy bass music sounding from beyond the kitchen door as silence settles between the two of you. 

“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?” he asks, undivided attention focused on you as you pour the last of the lemonade. If not for the embarrassment of spilling your drink in front of him, the unsolicited awareness he’s currently given you would have resulted in exactly that, so you stop yourself and give him a convincing smile.

“I’ve been good, thanks. It’s the end of the academic year, I have no more complaints,” you muse, bringing the cup to your lips as you peer over the rim to look at Jack, his long lashes fluttering as his focus remains you. Your heartbeat picks up its pace. “What about you? Frozen four’s a big deal, but winning the championship is even bigger.”

Jack gives a lighthearted laugh, smugness adjusting his posture as his shoulders move back and his chest puffs out. Meanwhile, he gives this half shrug and grin that has heat gravitating towards the apples of your cheeks. It’s one of the things you like about Jack, how confident and sure of himself he is without it being overbearing and unappealing. It feels assuring, not having to dim your own light for the sake of his own comfort. 

“Yeah, that was nuts, I can’t lie. We had a really good run and I think our efforts really showed for themselves in that case,” Jack responds, taking a swig of his beer. “Christ, I sound like I’m talking to the media or something.”

“Well, consider this practice for when you join Jersey in the future,” you simper, snickering as you take a sip of your own drink. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of fun speaking to the media.”

He gives an eyeroll, amusement prominent in the way his eyes twinkle and you can't help but laugh more. “So you say. How did you even know about Jersey?”

Your laugh is cut short, ice cold realisation washing over you like a bad hangover as his words hang in the air like a gauntlet waiting for its descent. Of course, this was nothing to be caught off-guard by considering how much your university boasts about how Jack, amongst other talented players, were drafted before committing to your university. However, the painful memory of you awake one late night doesn’t escape you, said night spent hesitantly typing his name into Google to come across all the info you knew to confirm how great of a hockey player he was. You feel shameful even looking him in the eyes right now.

So, your eyes stray from him, the somewhat sticky floor being the source of all your interest. “Who doesn’t know? Our uni does a good job of reminding us of everyone that’s been drafted.” 

You decide to spare a glance at Jack, taking in how a pinkish hue decorates the surface of his cheeks as his lone hand goes to scratch the back of his neck. The timidity that clouds his movement evokes a simper out of you, one that you direct into your cup, its contents rapidly draining under the weight of your continued conversation.

“Oh, man. Maybe, I shouldn’t have asked that,” he jokes, smile all pearly white and heart fluttering. “Can’t blame a guy for being nervous, no?”

“Nerv-”

Suddenly, the kitchen door bursts open and a flood of drunken students come barrelling in, hollering as their drinks splash to the floor and chaos ensues. You’re just as confused at their unexpected appearance as you are at the comment Jack made, but before you have a chance to ponder further, a warm hand settles against the small of your back followed by the gentle waft of Jack’s aftershave, a mixture sea salt with a hint of lavender and spicy nutmeg. It takes everything in you for your knees not to buckle.

“Let’s head out back.” he whispers, breath fanning over your neck as his fingertips ignite fire against your skin. 

Abruptly, you clear your throat, mindlessly nodding along as you blindly follow him out back, Jack’s larger build serving as a shield of sorts as he seamlessly navigates his way through the hordes of students. He does so with your hand in his and as much as your internal monologue unleashes panicked squeals at the contact, you revel in his touch - calloused hands that hold yours like porcelain, warm hands that match together like the universe and all its stars. 

A cool breeze blankets your skin and your focus shifts from your inner thoughts, taking in the generous and lush green outdoor space with sparse camping chairs circling a bonfire and a large tree further up ahead draped in fairy lights. There’s some people here too, but the atmosphere is a 180 from the mayhem inside, hushed light-hearted conversations exchanged beside the lit bonfire with the faint smell of weed filtering through the crisp air. The dazzling fairy lights blind you into bumping into Jack’s back, apologising with a laugh before he collapses onto the daisy white hammock before you. 

You follow suit with the carefree attitude Jack gives you, but you miscalculate horrendously because you don’t fall into the place beside your crush, but into his lap. Shock runs through your veins like ice as your bewilderment freezes you in place, mouth gaping open as you turn to face Jack in absolute horror. He seems to fare better with the unexpected contact, enlarged azure eyes showing his awe and yet his hands are in all the right places - supporting your waist as your weightless body struggles to hold its own. 

“I’m-“ the hairs on your neck are standing and you’re close to crying, the heat of your mortification burning your body hot like a furnace. “-so sorry. I didn’t-I didn’t even-“

“Relax, you’re good,” the chill of his beer against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, the feeling intensifying by the thousands as Jack’s thumb gives your exposed skin the smallest caress. You’re sure you’re the personification of shock at how every inch of your features displays pure alarm. “Unless this was your plan?”

You’re shoving him before your brain is able to comprehend its commands, your flustered state leaping out of his lap and collapsing back alongside him this time, hands clasped over your eyes as you take the time to maybe calm down. “What frat house even has a hammock anyways?”

“Rachel - Z’s girl - thought it’d be a nice touch for the garden,” you hear Jack mumble, but you’re too busy nursing your ego to fully immerse in conversation. “You’re friends with her, right? You guys came in together.” 

“Keeping an eye out for me, Hughes?” 

Apparently, your ego isn’t as bruised to make such a comment, a smirk finding itself onto the surface of your face as you’ve yet to remove your hand from your vision.

“It’s hard to keep my eyes off you.” 

You freeze in place, the heaviness in your stomach incomparable with the hammering of your heart against your chest as your brain picks apart Jack’s comment at the speed of light. None of the comments Jack has made throughout your entire conversation have gone over your head, the flirty undertones as clear as day. He wasn’t as up front with his compliments when you two first started working together, the furthest compliment he’d given denoting how nice you looked despite rolling out of bed twenty minutes beforehand. His directness makes your eyebrows furrow, or rather his intentions have you looking around as if you could find some answers. Perhaps this is how Jack is at parties - all pleasant with a careful flirtation that gradually pulls you inwards. Or maybe, this simply is the case of him showing his interest in you. The concept is not lost on you, but there is still apprehension that manifests within you, for reasons you are yet to discover.

You’re about to say something, your parted lips issuing a single incoherent syllable that dissolves on your tongue when the faint murmur of country music from a group of guys up ahead takes your notice, Jack’s nose scrunching with delight as he exclaims, “Ah, what a banger.”

Your eyebrow quirks upwards, merriment spreading against your features. “I never pegged you as the country type.” 

“Well, I’m not a Drake guy, I’ll tell you that much.” Jack shifts in his seat, extending his arm out behind your back. 

“So, a belieber then?” you jester, taunting eyebrows raised as you can’t keep your snicker to yourself when you watch Jack roll his eyes with the same grin.

“If that makes you happy, then yeah,” Jack reasons nonchalantly, whereas you make a pathetic attempt at stopping the stammer in your chest. “But no, that’s pretty much all that plays when my brothers and I wakesurf in the summer, unless Z is on the aux. Then, he and Quinn have a go at each other for it.”

Chuckles emit from your lips as you picture the image of a sunny summer day out on a boat, Jack’s older brother, Quinn, and Trevor becoming enemies of silence as they bicker over music choices. A warm fuzziness embraces you, the image placing you right beside Jack as laughter bubbles between the two of you whilst Luke wakesurfs in the background. It’s a honeyed depiction, all rose-tinted and for you to hold close to your heart along with other fantasies you allow yourself to entertain.

“We’re planning on going back to our summer house upstate where we do loads of other stuff,” Jack trails off, his fingers tapping against the glass of his bottle as you two share a look between each other. His eyes flicker downwards almost immediately, the top of his ears crimsoning. “You should stop by sometime. It’d be good to see you over the summer.”

For someone as confident as Jack, these rare glimpses of timidity demonstrate themselves as a pure anomaly. So, you can imagine your surprise at not only his incredibly generous offer but also his sheepish demeanour; gaze never aligning with yours as you feel his fingers fiddle with the material of the hammock behind your back. The sight enamours you, a rush of endearment washing over you as you lean into the feeling, not bothering to hide the wide smile growing across the expanse of your face. 

If this is what awaits you at their summer house, you’re already packed and ready to go.

“I could be persuaded.” Jack’s already rolling his eyes and against his better judgement, he finds himself chuckling with you too. 

When your amusement blends into the night sky, Jack's eyelids fall halfway, gaze steady as he mirrors your prior smirk that’s all but gone with the quiet wind. “And, what would that involve?” 

A moment is shared between the two of you. Burning bright like a star and erupting fireworks in your fingertips as your eyes linger on one another longer than explanatory. The landscape of his dotted moles capture your attention first, your sight leading itself to the galaxy-like twinkle dazzling in the ocean blue of his eyes. It’s so precious, this point in time - so delicate and intimate that it feels like a secret, whispers of infatuation pulling you together by their invisible strings as Jack’s extended arm circles your shoulders. You lean in, the temptation of his lips calling your name. Earlier restlessness ceases to exist as your movements read as second nature, the bruising of your chest accompanying the fuzziness that dances in your stomach as Jack leans into too.

“Yo, Jack!”

The moment is all but gone, burst like a bubble as both your heads turn in the direction of the voice, spying one of Jack’s friends, Cole, standing on the porch with a hand clasped around his mouth.

“Get your ass in here, we’re playing Jenga!”

A string of unpleasantries filter through Jack’s mouth in the form of a murmur, remnants of your interrupted kiss lingering as Jack gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and gives you the most apologetic look you’ve ever seen. Puppy eyes and pouty lips, an image you lock away in your heart forever. 

“Did you wanna head in?” He gives you the choice, head tilted to the side as he studies your expression whilst you ponder the inquiry.

The almost kiss is something to behold and if this has occurred weeks prior amidst the intensity of your crush, you would have begged and pleaded to stay, hinging on the hopes of whatever this is being fabricated once again to fulfil your fondness dreams. But, this feels different. It feels sold, as opposed to balancing upon shaky possibilities. This is undeniable, a point in time that is infinite and kissed upon by destiny. A junction you can return to time and time again.

“Yeah, I’m sure my friends are looking for me anyways,” you unravel yourself from Jack’s loose grip, hoisting yourself up before you turn to face him with a soft beam. His expression reads unsure, gaze scattered before he looks upwards before your sneakers knock against his impossibly white Air Forces. You nod towards the house, the giddiness building within you exceptional as your hand extends out to meet his. “Let’s head in together?”

It comes out more of a question than a statement, but you could care less when Jack gives you that soft smile that’s only reserved for you, grabbing a hold of your hand after he brings himself off the hammock before you proceed to return back to the party.

The bustling atmosphere appears to have maintained itself in your absence, hundreds of conversations mixing in with the booming sounds of some bass heavy hip hop song. You nod your head to the beat, grinning when you see familiar faces in the crowd as you trail behind Jack yet again, following him in promise of your friends who Cole had mentioned joined their group’s game of Jenga. You make do with getting down the stairs of the basement without tumbling due to their frigid nature, face instantly lighting up as you catch sight of your friends, collapsing into a fit of excited hugs and shared giggles as you all catch up on the events of the party.

Amidst all the dialogue, some of which you’re assuming Jack’s sorority brothers and friends make quick work of getting the bare room ready, arranging beers for everyone as the box of Jenga is brought out. The weight of concentrated eyes seers into your goosebump-riddled skin and by the time you volunteer to assemble the Jenga tower, you’re more than aware of Jack’s attention on you. Even with how overflowing the confidence you possessed was as you left the back garden, the heat of his gaze reduces you to a sheepish mess, antsy hands uncertain of their movements as you attempt to achieve some standard of normalcy, your eyes avoiding his. It’s when your hands accidentally touch that you cannot avoid it much longer, peering through clumpy eyelashes with a flush that feels as vivid as painted glass. 

A lone corner of his lips inclines, his look of allurement tangled with blatant attraction enough to make you knock over some of the Jenga pieces. A deep chorus of disapproving sounds holler at your actions, your sheepishness fended off by the laughter amongst you and Jack as you continue to assemble the tower again, this serving as the last of your communication before the Jenga game commences.

Every Jenga piece taken out of the tower involves a dare that has laughter erupting from the pits of your stomach or mouth gaping open at the gull others possess whilst intoxicated. With the muffled sounds of the music upstairs and endless talk in the room, merriment captures your heart in a gentle squeeze as the dares carry on, the harmless fun quickly becoming one of your favourite memories in recent times.

It’s your turn to go and the frat guys are already teasing you with endearing nicknames, putting a smile on your face as your hands steady to pull out a tricky Jenga piece with ease. Wooden block in hand, your line of vision skims the chicken scratch of a dare with an effortless glee that’s swiftly replaced with plentiful surprise.

“What does it say?!’ exclaims Trevor, the anticipation in his voice evident as he squeals his words.

You’re reducing to your meek self again, not daring to look upwards as you enunciate your words to aid your own comprehension. “Spend seven minutes in heaven with the player across from you.”

You’re unsure whether the universe has some really good jokes up their sleeve or this is just fate to begin with because when you lift your head up, already knowing, Jack’s amused facial expression speaks for itself.  

Hollers and cheers fill the room, enough pandemonium to make you crimson as you stumble to your feet, casting a peek at your best friend with a cross between disbelief and delight. Your best friend, the same one that texted you about Jack’s presence at the party tonight, bawls her hand into a tight fist, bringing it to her chest as a sign of victory with mischief painted all over her. The ridiculousness of this farce eliminates you from ruminating about what awaits you in the closet a mere metres away. The guy most pleased with the situation opens the closet door, a few brooms pushed back into the compact space that is surprisingly clean with no cobwebs or dust in sight.

“All clean and ready for you two lovebirds,” Trevor grins with the keenness of a kid in a candy store, pushing back his long locks of hair as he sends a wink your way. “Don’t get too carried away in there, you’ve only got seven minutes.”

Jack says something in reply to Trevor’s cheeky comment but you’re too preoccupied by your own thoughts, feet carrying you to the fate of your Jenga dare as the door closes and darkness shrouds you. 

It’s silent for a minute, nothing but soft breaths and dulled whispers from outside the closet door. The closet is dangerously compact, your back up against the wall not sparing you from establishing your own personal space, the slightest shift of your shoes inevitably going to knock against Jack’s. Outside in the back garden feels so far away now, slipping through your hands as if sand with the daunting weight of unsaid expectations folding your arms and clearing a stubborn croak in your throat.

As the seconds tick on and no communication is shared, the everlasting laps you round around your mind exhaust you for the last time and you decide to face whatever this is head on, a start being making eye contact with the man that makes it the hardest thing in the world. However, with the tiniest sliver of dimmed light peaking through underneath the closet door, you can see him. Jack, in all his glory - soft and boyish, all charming in nature. The round pool blue of his eyes and the moles that dot his skin like constellations. It’s a rush of emotions, all raw and bare, to overwhelm and comfort you, with the easiness of his smile that directs your way and warms your heart like no other.

“We don’t have to do anything in here, I’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable,” Jack explains, his hand reaching to drag down one side of his face as his eyes cast away. “I hope you know that.”

This - you feel resolute in - establishing some sense of security in this room as you smile up at Jack. “The thought didn’t even cross my mind.” 

There’s a double meaning in your words and you don’t bother to correct yourself, reading in between the lines cementing itself as your favourite pastime. But, Jack knows and so do you. Perhaps you knew all along that every nook and cranny in your heart was specially reserved for Jack and no other could do. Maybe, you spent so much time in your head because this unexplored territory felt like the birth of the universe, so big and beautiful that it had more questions than answers. A forbidden fruit of sorts - a sweet mirage that the more you pulled away, gravity pulled you right back. A place where you belonged - with him in this moment forever sealed between the two of you.

Jack offers a smile in the wake of your thoughts, timid yet teasing in nature and you can’t resist, in the almost dark of the closet, grin too because this was sealed from the very beginning. Alone with infamous fratboy Jack Hughes, under some sort of awkward pretence bringing you together because you let your fears get the best of you, a stark contrast to what they are now - engulfed in thoughts, feelings of your lips against his and how this charade will come to a close, the building tension boiling till it overflows

“Hey-” you both say at the same time, silencing as you chuckle at the unison you unite in.

“Ladies first.”

“I’m more interested in what you have to say.” 

Because there’s no doubt in your mind he’ll steal the words right out of your mouth, the mere thought of those words escaping his lips the centre of all your desires.

He pauses, eyes searching yours for confirmation which presents itself in the toothy grin he struggles not to reflect, canine sinking into the corner of his lips before he responds, “If you insist.”

Jack doesn’t miss a beat as he reaches for your hand, absently tracing patterns into the skin with a thoughtful hum that proceeds his words. 

“I think I’ve been a lot more straightforward with how I feel about you, but I’d like to chance to tell you right here that I’m interested in you, in being with you. To the point that the boys get sick of me yapping about it,” you chuckle at his comment, the humour of the joke distracting you from the flood of emotions that submerges you indefinitely. “I felt this way from the time we got assigned to work together. And, if maybe you had any reservations about us, I’d do whatever it takes so that they don’t exist because you’re what matters most and that will never change.”

No feeling can compare to this. It’s almost as if you’re experiencing the full spectrum of emotions for the first time, rejoicing in the sunshine Jack basks upon you in the wake of his confession. A mirage turned reality, the colours are bright and blinding and you’re so elated within yourself that you physically cannot do more than bring Jack’s hand to your cheek to kiss his palm. A confirmation that needs no words. 

The warmth of his hand against your cheek melts you into his skin, eyelids falling shut as you revel in the tender caresses of his thumb, of his love and the unspoken words between you. A graze against your throat has your eyes fluttering open, lips parted as Jack secures his hand gently against the nape of your neck. A soft inhale escapes you as his thumb traces the corner of your mouth, dilated pupils flickering between your own and your lips.

“Can I-”

“Yes, please.” 

A star is born at the centre of your lips as they fold over one another, blending seamlessly together as you move together in synchronised harmony. You taste the remnants of beer, inhale his musky cologne and send yourself flying into another universe as Jack holds you close for impact. All your brain knows to do is convey your sentiment tenfold, kissing him as if touch starved as your fingers thread through the curls of his hair. You commit this to memory - the slowness of the kiss, the scent of his apple shampoo and his curls around your fingers, the feathery feeling of your fluttering heart and the tenderness of your hearts beating as one. So sickeningly besotted with another that everything pales in comparison.

Reluctantly, you pull away from his soft lips when the shared oxygen between you two vanishes, eyes slow to open but ultimately capturing the part of Jack’s rouge lips that quiver in your wake, his gaze meeting yours moments later. 

You kiss him again for good measure.

“Alright, horny bastards. Time’s up!” Cole’s voice thunders from beyond the door.

Lips still pressed against Jack’s, you both smile into one last kiss, just as sweet as the last. Jack savours it for what it’s worth, forehead pressed against yours as you two stand together, bruised chests aching with all the yearning that can fit into your palms.

“Consider me persuaded.” 

[vantaesfairie]

𝔭𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔞 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔡 : 𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔵𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯

atlty’s tarot readings: art commissions, paid readings, spell ritual comms open!

choose a pile below:

part 1 of my christmas series!!!!

pile 1, reindeer friends with a cute snoot:

wow they could be quite rich! they could be from old money or enjoy spending daddy's / mommy's money.

they could be continuing a family's inheritance or legacy in their area of study or work.

they could enjoy nature or watch things grow.

they definitely put in long term strategies. they are probably good in investing money.

they have pretty good foresight. they could play a role of 'caregiver' a bit, like they will spoil you materially.

they could have a small waist regardless of gender, and tall.

they are a good negotiator and likes to make you smile.

they are someone who takes care of you deeply and wants to watch you prosper.

they want to steer you away from your bad troubles and only towards good days. they want to take away your pain.

you may meet them at a time of prosperous growth or when your life seems to be taking a turn to the next chapter.

pile 2, black cat in christmas lights:

they have a very strong energy, they could be a fire sign or enjoy gaming or group sports.

they are very assertive and tend to be more masculine.

they motivate others and you, and would literally fight off people to protect you.

they could feel challenged a lot, they may have trouble with their self worth, esteem, and ego.

they want to win arguments, they want you as their prize.

they could be blunt but quite persuasive. they could be good with words to make you happy or seduce you.

they would love to debate or banter playfully with you.

they could play sports that involve a stick, like hockey or polo.

they are very ambitious in their work with clear direction of where they want to go and achieve but lack proper emotional development.

they may need you to keep them in their lane sometimes with their bad days, but they would be so passionate with you.

pile 3, stag (james potter? should i start a hogwarts pac?):

they could be more soft and introverted than the rest of the piles here. they could have sadder eyes (in your opinion).

they could hurt people without knowing and suffer hollow victories.

they want to treat you like their forever lover with everything that they give you. they want you to glow and be a rainbow in their life.

they would be very attracted to you, you would be their type.

they could be blunt with words which they regret immediately after.

they see you as someone who can help heal them so they may come to you for comfort.

they could feel like an outcast in their peer crowds easily.

they run out of emotional energy quite quickly so you would help give them spiritual energy like a charger.

they would learn many emotional lessons from you. they never want to hurt you.

they could be avoidant when you two fight because of their nature to hurt people easily, but they want to always cherish you.

i hope you enjoyed this pac! please consider purchasing a paid reading by sliding into my dms. reblog and share if possible! i’d love to know if this resonates to you. thank you so much!

[ericshoney]

Locked in a car ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You join your brothers in a video with Larray not quite knowing what it was about.

Warnings: swearing, nicknames, teasing, chaos

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today you were in LA spending some time with Nick, Matt and Chris. The three thought it would also be funny if you appeared in a few videos, one of which would be on Larray's channel. You had met him a couple times and thought of him as another brother.

You were about to leave to Larray's place, unaware of what the video was going to be about. You just agreed with a bit of persuasion from Nick.

"You ready, kid?" Matt asked you, seeing you sat on the sofa.

"Yeah ready when you guys are." You answered.

Chris and Nick soon joined you both as you all went to the car, Matt driving to Larray's place.

"So, any hints on the topic?" You asked.

"Nope, it's going to be a total surprise for you." Chris said.

"Not one hint?" You called.

"No it might give it away!" Nick exclaimed.

You laughed as you listened to the music play and Matt scream at stupid drivers.

When you safely arrived at Larray's place, you all greeted him cheerfully, Matt rushing off to find his cat. You shook your head at your older brother and went to where the camera was set up, hoping it wouldn't be too weird of a video.

"So, what's the plan?" You asked Larray hoping he'd tell you.

"Well." He began, but Nick quickly stopped him.

"Nope! It's a surprise she's not to know until we're filming!" He cheered.

"Okay, oh girl your gonna love it." Larray replied with a laugh.

"That worries me." You replied.

Matt soon came back, cat in his arms, along with Chris who ran after him. The five of you now standing in the living room ready to record.

"They're back!" Larray shouted suddenly.

"Yes I listened to you all, I have the three same faced people back on my channel and instead of Arrington we have the female Sturniolo Y/n!" He continued.

"I have no idea what we're filming." You said to the camera.

"Nope it's a total surprise for her!" Chris shouted.

"Well today we're filming part two! You all asked and I have delivered! We're going to be locked in a car for twenty-four hours!" Larray cheered.

"Locked in a car for twenty-four hours with you four?" You questioned.

"Yeah, just be glad Arrington isn't joining us like last time." Matt answered with a chuckle.

"Oh yeah you and Chris had to buy air fresheners, those little tree ones." You responded.

"Love you Arrington!" Larray said to the camera.

"Now to the car!" He added.

He grabbed the camera as you all got into his car. Nick sat up the front as you, Chris and Matt got in the back, the guys making sure you were actually comfortable before Larray started driving.

"So Y/n, tell the viewers a bit about yourself." Larray said as he drove, the camera set up on the dash.

"Uh, I'm sixteen. Play hockey, have four older brothers, three of which share the same face. I'm single." You said.

"And it will stay that way till your like thirty!" Matt shouted from right at the back.

"Or forever." Chris added.

You laughed at their protective statements, Nick was busy singing to the songs to really comment, which earned a slap from Chris.

"Fuck bitch! What?" He called.

"Kid was talking!" Chris responded.

"Oh right, don't date!" Nick shouted.

"So no dating life for me, brothers have spoken." You said, making them all laugh.

Larray and Nick then started singing and dancing to the music again, Chris making jokes and Matt laughing. You knew this would be one chaotic video.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

@mattsfavbigtitties @lgbtq-girl @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @sturniolo-fann @riowritesitall

[fatalism-and-villainy]

Rewatching season 2 had me really struck by the sheer amount of time Will spends performing for other people, and how few fully authentic interactions he has. In fact, I’d say one of the biggest through lines between the first and second halves of the season is Will learning how to wear masks, and then actively deploying that for the purpose of catching Hannibal.

(And how fitting is it that the promo for season 2 had Will wearing the iconic hockey mask? Not just a franchise in-joke, but a reflection of the fact that he “becomes” Hannibal in this season, begins to symbolically merge with him, to the point in which his own goals become clouded to him.)

It's a natural extension of season 1's establishment of his empathic abilities, where he begins to more actively use his ability to read other people and discern their motivations as a tool, or weapon. Simply telling the truth about his innocence doesn’t serve him - so he adapts a façade very quickly, in his faked tears for Hannibal and Alana. All of his interactions with others while in prison - Chilton, Lounds, Matthew Brown, etc. - are very deliberately engineered, and lean into what Will knows (or thinks) each person wants to hear - all setting the stage for him doing the same thing to Hannibal. Every word, everything about his intonation, is so precise - something that specifically struck me in this stretch of episodes was when he talks to Gideon and very carefully leans forward as he’s trying to drive his point home:

(And the body language, interestingly enough, is not just persuasive, but also mirrors the way Gideon sometimes leans/dangles his arms out of the cage when talking to others - and it reminds me of Will also mirroring Hannibal’s body language during the “not now that I finally find you interesting” scene, when he bites his lip in the way Hannibal so often does.)

It really highlights how so much of how he interacts with others during this entire stretch of the plot is a very carefully crafted performance, with so many of Will’s actual feelings and motivations subsumed into his manipulations. I remember watching the DVD commentary on Su-zakana, and they talk about how Will’s visible surliness with Hannibal was meant to stem from the fact that he didn’t want to be too friendly with Hannibal right away, because it would look suspicious. And I think that gets at something that’s present with how both Will and Hannibal manipulate others - they’re not necessarily lying about their feelings, just consciously using genuine feelings or motivations as a method of influencing others. With Hannibal, he frequently does feel genuine affection for others, and his care for them stems from that, but it’s also often used to put them at ease, serve his own ends. Will, for his part, is genuinely angry with Hannibal, but actively uses those feelings to fashion an aura of standoffishness. And of course, Hannibal has a genuine pull for him, and he deliberately leans into and cultivates that enjoyment for the sake of entrapping Hannibal. …Which of course leads to a situation where he has to put on a show for Jack as well, in which he downplays how deep into it he’s getting.

So it’s entirely fitting that the opening of Mizumono features the two halves of Will’s face - the front he’s presenting to Hannibal, and the front he’s presenting to Jack - merging, mask-like, in the middle of the screen.

They’re both the real him, and they’re both masks - and he gets so subsumed into his performances for others, the modulation and accentuation and sublimation of his feelings that they require, that he gets lost to himself (and is also terribly lonely and isolated). No wonder he’s confused and unmoored in early season 3.

[hockeylovee12]

Crossing Enemy Lines

Chapter One

Luke Hughes x Original Character

Summary: When Luke Hughes got drafted by the New Jersey Devils he knew he was entering one of the most intense rivalries in professional hockey. But what he didn't bargain for was falling in love with a Rangers player's sister during his first year in the show.

OR Luke Hughes meets the right girl with the wrong last name.

Warnings: Cussing

November 10th, 2023

Inside a dimly lit bar tucked away in Jersey City, Luke occupies a corner seat surrounded by some of his teammates. His shoulders hunch inside the navy jacket he wears, while a grim scowl tugs at the corner of his mouth.

Around him the sounds of clinking glasses, rhythmic thuds of billiard balls, and lively chatter echo off the walls, creating a cacophony of noise as he tries to drown out the bitter feeling of defeat.

John, slides into the empty seat beside him, nudging his shoulder lightly, "Come on Lukey, Just shake it off, it's not the end of the world" he urges, allowing a smile that doesn't quite reach his warm brown eyes to cross his lips.

Luke turns towards John, his scowl unwavering.

If Luke was a Swiftie, he could point out the irony of John quoting Taylor Swift after they lost to the New York Rangers. But he's not so instead he settles for a half-hearted shrug.

"Seriously, man, you can't let one loss get to you like this," Jack cuts in, placing a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Just forget about it. It's one game. We still got three more against those assholes" He adds with the same persuasive tone he used less than an hour ago to convince Luke to come to the bar in the first place.

A heavy sigh escapes Luke's lips as his shoulders slump further.

He can't just forget about it. They lost 1-7 to the New York fucking Rangers, their literal Rivals. The same team they managed to kick out of the playoffs last season, the same team they beat several times in preseason, and the same team they couldn't fucking score against.

It was a complete shit show from start to finish.

A stupid hooking call cost them the game's first goal. Then a series of shitty defense decisions, put them in a hole they couldn't climb out of. And then there was Igor fucking Shesterkin, standing on his head and making 23 saves out of 24 shots like he was some kind of brick wall. The one goal they managed to squeeze past him was a lucky bounce that barely counted.

It was infuriating to watch Panarin and Zibanejad dance circles around their defense, while they couldn't even get a decent scoring chance on the other side.

Luke is momentarily pulled away from his bitter recounter of the game, as the loud laughter of his teammates, Nate and Dawson echoes throughout the space, as they return to their table with a fresh round of drinks.

"What's with the long face, Rusty?" Dawson asks, as he sets down the glasses, with a clink, and claps Luke on the shoulder.

"Don't tell me you're still moping about tonight's loss" Nate jokes, his tone light and teasing, as he sticks to his well-known game philosophy of 'play and move on'.

A sentiment clearly not shared by every member of the Devils.

"Shut it, Bass" Luke mumbles, shooting him an irritated glare.

A small chuckle rumbles from Dawson's chest, "Come on man. Don't be like that" he says as Luke's lips return to a scowl.

"Alright fine, if you're gonna pout about the game at least do it well drinking so you're not a buzzkill" Dawson boasts as he slides a fresh beer across the table to Luke, which would otherwise be inaccessible to him seeing as how he's still got 10 months till he can order one for himself-at least legally.

Luke accepts the beer with a resigned sigh, his hazel eyes somewhat softening for the first time tonight, as the crisp, tangy scent wafts towards him "Easy for you to say, you weren't the one getting ragdolled by fucking Trouba every damn shift."

"Tell me about it," Nate shakes his head in dismay. "Did you see the way he drove Jonas into the boards in the third? Could've broken some ribs with that bullshit cheapshot."

"Jacob Trouba's a fucking punk, can't believe he wears the C" Jack adds

"They're all fucking punks" Luke mutters

"At least our rookies' loyalties lie with the right team" Nate jokes, as he reaches across the table to ruffle Luke's hair, much to his annoyance.

"Their dirty fucking players" Luke adds, taking a sip of his beer

"Ok true, but we can't let them get in our heads" John states with conviction. "They can play as dirty as they want, alright we just gotta focus on our game"

"Mr. Harvard's right" Nate says confidently, raising his now half-full beer "Next game, we return the favor and shut up those loudmouths"

"That's not-"

"Alright guys enough dwelling on that shit show," Dawson states, "We're supposed to be blowing off steam tonight, not sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves."

Jack nods in agreement "Daws is right, we won't seem em for a while anyway, so let's stop talking about the Rangers"

The group mutters in agreement before falling into silence, waiting for a new topic to arise.

"Did you guys see Haula's reaction to the prank Nate and I pulled on him yesterday?" Dawson asks

"That was you guys, Damn he was pissed" John says

"Hey payback bitch he shouldn't have put shaving cream in our skates. Piece of shit" Nate claims, his voice wavering with some degree of platonic affection for one of their older teammates.

Most of the group chuckles at Nate's anecdote, except for Luke, who's still stuck in his own head.

"Remember that time, we triple knotted every pair of Quinn's shoes" Jack asks, gently nudging Luke's arm.

A faint smile tugs at the corner of Luke's mouth as the memory surfaces "Ya, he tried to shove his big ass feet into my Vans"

"And then he spent the next week trying to get us back" Jack adds, grinning "And failed miserably every time."

Luke let's out a soft chuckle, it's not his usual boisterous laugh, but hey it's a start.

*****

As the night wears on, the lively conversation and laughter enveloping their table slowly eases the weight of the loss from Luke's shoulders.

Then in the midst of a lively discussion about fantasy football with Dawson, Jack and John, his attention absentmindedly drifts towards the door, and his gaze suddenly locks onto the captivating sight of a stunning girl with cascading locks of dark-chocolate colored hair, and a warm smile, gracefully stepping into the bar.

"Hey, where did Nate disappear to?" John's question floats through the air momentarily anchoring Luke back to the table strewn with empty glasses.

Their eyes wander around the bar, until the spot Nate weaving his way through a small crowd an impish grin plastered on his face.

"Big news boys! Guess who's got a date tomorrow!" he boasts, wavering around a paper napkin that seemingly has a phone number written on it-whether it was actually the girls or a random one made up on the spot, we may never know-prompting a chorus of laughter to ripple across the table.

Luke cracks a smile too, but it's not one that reaches his eyes. They've wandered off already, tracking the girl he spotted moments ago, who now leans casually against the bar counter, her fingers drumming a silent rhythm on its surface as she waits for her drink.

"Luke?" Jack's voice cuts through his thoughts, sharp enough to draw attention, yet laced with a hint of concern "You okay, man?"

"Uh, yeah" Luke stammers, trying to mask how his focus had strayed. He forces himself to lock eyes with Jack hoping to convey a sense of normalcy.

But Jack knows him too well, reads him too easily and one look at Luke's face tells him where his brother's mind had wandered off to.

Luke's eyes quickly shift towards the girl again, who's retrieving her drink from the bar, and takes a small sip.

"Earth to Luke," John teases.

All heads subtly turn to acknowledge the object of Luke's distraction, watching as she walks towards the vacant pool table.

"Looks like someone caught your eye" Dawson says with a wry smile, elbowing Luke playfully.

"Looks like your type too," Jack adds, a sly grin crossing his lips. "Why don't you go say hi?"

"Come on, man" John's encouragement is gentle, persuasive "Take your mind off things for a bit"

"Go ahead rook" Nate prods "Show us what you've got"

Luke hesitates for a moment, allowing the suggestion to linger in the air.

Before a not so subtle shove to the shoulder by Jack, causes him to push his chair back and stand up.

"Alright wish me luck" He mutters

"Attaboy!" Nate exclaims, clapping his shoulder.

The cool air circulating inside the bar brushes against the small amounts of exposed skin, as he crosses the short distance to the pool table.

"Hey," he says, flashing a quick grin that hopefully looks more charming than nervous.

"Hi," the girl replies, her voice a melodic hint of intrigue. She looks up, a smile teasing at the corners of her lips. "I'm Jordan"

"Luke" he offers back, a tentative smile of his own forming.

"Want to play?" she asks, gesturing to the table with a cue stick.

"Sure," Luke responds, retrieving a cue from the rack on the wall.

"So are you any good?" Jordan teases, as she lines up for her shot.

"Depends on the day," Luke admits, watching as she sinks a solid ball into a corner pocket.

"Looks like today might be my day then" she quips, with a soft smile on her face as she steps to the side.

Luke chuckles as he takes his shot, cleanly sinking a striped ball into a corner pocket. "Guess we'll see about that."

*****

As the game plays out, the rhythmic clack of pool balls blends nicely with their voices, providing a backdrop as they learn more about one another.

"So, Jordan," he asks curiosity gleaming in his eyes, "what brings you here tonight?"

Jordan leans against her cue, "Just wanted to explore a little"

Luke lets out a soft laugh as he lines up his shot, expertly guiding the striped ball into the middle pocket "You from around here?" he asks

Jordan leans forward, cue in hand and takes her shot. The satisfying click of the pool balls echoing in the bar, signaling another point for her.

She straightens up and glances at Luke with a smirk, "New York City" she replies

"Let me guess, you're a secret pool shark, got bored of the games up there?" he asks, his tone laced with a sense of humor, as he takes his shot and the ball ricochets off the side and misses sinking into the pocket by an inch.

"Close I'm a student at NYU" she answers

"NYU, wow that's really impressive. What's you studying?" Luke questions watching as she sinks another ball

Jordan shrugs, a modest smile on her lips "I just started up a few weeks ago, but I'm majoring in English Lit" she replies

"English Lit, huh, you a big reader?" Luke asks

"Yeah, there's just something about getting lost in a good book, you know?"

"Yeah I do" Luke agrees "Although I probably don't read as much as I should. Maybe you can recommend something for me?"

"I'd love to," Jordan says, her eyes sparkling. "But only if you promise me you'll actually read it."

"Cross my heart," Luke grins, making an exaggerated gesture.

Their eyes meet, a spark of connection passing between them as they share a smile.

Jordan leans against the pool table, studying Luke for a moment before asking, "So, what about you? What's your story?"

Luke hesitates, his mind racing as he considers how to respond. His eyes briefly flicker to his teammates, still laughing and joking at their table.

He's seen it before, seen it a handful of times over the past few months since he's become an NHL player, hell he saw it before too, with both his brothers being in the show.

The way people's perceptions change when they learn of his profession, or his last name, the way their eyes widen with awe or narrow with skepticism, or the way the conversation shifts completely and suddenly their no longer talking to him, their either talking at him telling him their thoughts and opinions about him, or they throw questions at him like a round of rapid fire, wanting to know what life in the NHL is really like.

And so, in this moment, with Jordan's eyes on him, warm and inviting. Luke decides tonight he's not a hockey player, he's not Hughes, he's just a guy enjoying a night out and connecting with a beautiful girl over a game of pool.

"Well, uh-I'm originally from New Hampshire" he begins, the half-truth rolling off his tongue "But I moved out here for school. Studying sports business"

He sinks another ball, the satisfying clack echoing in the bar.

He was born in New Hampshire, even if he hasn't lived there since he was 3, and technically, he's doing something with sports business, just not studying it, so it's not completely a lie or at least that's what he tells himself.

"What made you interested in sports business?" Jordan remarks, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

"I've always been pretty active, played a lot of sports growing up," Luke explains, watching as Jordan takes her turn, expertly maneuvering the cue ball. "I guess I just wanted to find a way to stay involved, even if I'm not playing, you know?"

Jordan nods, understanding in her eyes. "That makes sense."

As they continue to talk, the game progresses, with Jordan maintaining a slight lead. She sinks her last solid ball, leaving only the 8-ball and one striped ball remaining.

"You're pretty good at this," Luke says, lining up his shot.

"Ya well growing up with an older brother has its perks, taught me how to handle my own" Jordan replies, brushing a strand of brown hair from her face.

"Sounds like a good guy" Luke says just before hitting his last striped ball into a middle pocket

"Most of the time," she admits

A small smile tugs at Luke's lips as he watches Jordan ready herself for the final shot, "Your form could use some work, though" Luke teases

"Is that so?" Jordan smirks, glancing up at him.

"Maybe just a little" Luke grins, with a playful glint in his eyes "Care to prove me wrong?"

Jordan leans in, focusing on the shot. With a smooth, confident motion, she strikes the cue ball, sending the 8-ball rolling towards the corner pocket. It teeters on the edge for a brief moment before dropping in with a satisfying thud.

"Looks like I just did," Jordan grins, straightening up and facing Luke.

Luke chuckles, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I guess I stand corrected. Clearly, you've got this game figured out."

They share a smile, the air between them charged with a flirtatious energy. Jordan takes a step closer, her eyes locked on Luke's.

"Well, maybe I just got lucky," she murmurs, her voice low and playful.

"Or maybe you're just that good," Luke counters, his gaze drifting to her lips for a fleeting moment.

The tension between them is palpable, the rest of the bar fading into the background as they stand mere inches apart. Jordan's hand brushes against Luke's, sending a jolt of electricity through his body.

"I guess we'll have to play again sometime," Jordan suggests, her tone laced with promise. "Give you a chance to redeem yourself."

"I'd like that," Luke replies, his voice soft and sincere.

Jordan smiles, a genuine, warm expression that makes Luke's heart skip a beat, as she reaches for her phone. "Here, put your number in, and I'll text you."

Jordan smiles before adding "Maybe next time, I'll even let you win."

Luke laughs, shaking his head. "Oh, you're on. But I won't need you to let me win. I can do that all on my own." he says as he takes the phone, his fingers brushing against hers as he types in his number.

There's a spark, a jolt of electricity that passes between them, and for a moment, the rest of the world falls away.

"I don't doubt it for a second," Jordan grins, the admiration clear in her eyes.

When he hands the phone back, their eyes meet once more, a silent acknowledgment of the connection they both feel.

"I should probably get going," Jordan says reluctantly, glancing at the time. "Early class tomorrow."

"Of course," Luke nods, trying to ignore the twinge of disappointment in his chest.

Luke nods, trying to ignore the twinge of disappointment in his chest. "It was nice to meet you Jordan"

"It was nice to meet you too Luke"

Luke grins, watching as she gathers her things and heads for the door.

Luke stands there for a moment, watching as Jordan's silhouette fades into the night, a grin plastered across his face. The cool evening breeze rustles his hair, but he barely notices, his mind still replaying the events of the past few hours.

With a final glance at the door, Luke turns and makes his way back to the table where his teammates await. As he approaches, he can see their faces light up with a mix of curiosity and good-natured mischief.

*****

"Well, well, well," Nate drawls, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. "Look who decided to grace us with his presence again."

"Shut it Nate" Luke replies, but there's no heat behind his words. He slides into his seat, grabbing his half-finished beer and taking a swig.

"So..." John says, a smile tugging at his lips.

"So?" Luke questions taking another sip

Dawson and John exchange a look, "Give us details?!" Dawson encourages

Luke rests his elbow on the table, and locks eyes with his teammates before letting out a simple "No"

Dawson, John and Nate's mouths dramatically drop, as if Luke just informed them that he's the notorious Zodiac Killer.

"Luke!' Dawson exclaims

"Aw, come on!" John protests, a good-natured grin on his face. "You can't leave us hanging like that. Did you get her number? Are you gonna see her again?"

"Maybe," Luke replies, a hint of mystery in his voice.

Nate leans forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, what's her name? Come on, you gotta give us something, man."

Luke takes a sip of his beer, a small smile playing on his lips. "Her name's Jordan, and that's all you're getting out of me tonight."

"Jordan, huh?" Dawson repeats, waggling his eyebrows. "And what does this mystery girl do? Is she a student? A model? A secret agent?"

Luke chuckles, shaking his head. "She's a student, but that's all I'm saying. You guys are worse than a bunch of gossiping old ladies."

"Hey, we're just looking out for our boy," John defends, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "We gotta make sure she's good enough for our rookie."

"Trust me, she's more than good enough," Luke assures them, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"Ooh, sounds like someone's smitten!" Nate teases, reaching over to ruffle Luke's hair.

Luke swats his hand away, laughing. "Shut up, I am not. It was one game of pool and I had a good time, that's all."

"One game of pool that lasted, what, two hours?" Dawson teases, giving Luke a playful shove. "Face it, Hughesy, you're smitten."

Luke rolls his eyes, but before he can retort, Jack stands up and stretches. "Alright, boys, as much as I'd love to sit here and watch you interrogate my little brother all night, we should probably head out."

A chorus of groans rises from the table, but the guys begrudgingly agree. They settle their tab and say their goodbyes, each one giving Luke a final nudge or wink before heading out into the night.

As Jack and Luke step outside, the cool night air hits them, a refreshing change from the stuffy bar. They walk side by side, hands shoved in their pockets, the silence between them comfortable and familiar.

After a few moments, Jack glances over at his brother, a small smile on his face. "So, this Jordan girl," he begins, his tone casual. "She seems to have made quite an impression on you."

Luke ducks his head, feeling a flush creep up his neck. "Yeah, I guess she did," he admits, kicking a pebble along the sidewalk. "I don't know, man, there's just something about her. It's like... like we just clicked, you know?"

Jack nods, a look of understanding on his face. "I get it," he says, a note of wistfulness in his voice. "When you meet someone special, it's like everything just falls into place."

They walk in silence for a few more blocks, each lost in their own thoughts. As they approach their apartment building, Jack turns to Luke, a serious expression on his face.

"Just be careful, okay?" he says, his tone gentle but firm. "I know you're excited about this girl, and I'm happy for you, I really am. But don't forget who you are, and what you're here to do."

Luke meets his brother's gaze, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "I know," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's just... it's nice to feel normal for once, you know? To just be Luke, not Luke Hughes, the hockey player."

Jack puts a hand on his brother's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I get it," he says, a hint of a smile on his face. "And you deserve that, Luke. You deserve to be happy, both on and off the ice. Just don't lose sight of what's important, okay?"

Luke nods, feeling a surge of gratitude for his brother's support and understanding. "Thanks, Jack," he says, bumping his shoulder against his brother's as they enter the building.

As they ride the elevator up to their floor, Luke can't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside him.

Meanwhile, across the Hudson River, Jordan steps out of her Uber, the upscale apartment building looming before her. She thanks the driver and makes her way through the lobby, the click of her shoes echoing off the polished floors, as she makes her way to an apartment door.

As she enters she's greeted by the sight of hockey memorabilia adorning the walls, a New York Rangers jersey bearing her brother's name and number taking center stage.

Careful not to wake Jacob and his wife, Jordan tiptoes to her room, a soft smile playing on her lips as she replays the evening's events in her mind. She goes through her nightly routine, the familiarity of it soothing after the excitement of the night.

Settling into bed, Jordan reaches for her phone, the screen illuminating her face in the darkened room. She opens her messages and starts a new conversation with Luke, her fingers dancing across the keyboard.

Hey, it's Jordan. I had a great time tonight. We should do it again sometime :)

With a satisfied grin, she hits send and places her phone on the nightstand, letting the promise of future adventures lull her to sleep.

[luvmmarner]

William Nylander - Drivers License

WORD COUNT: 2765 (including lyrics) TW: cheating (kinda), betrayal. PART OF THE SOUR SERIES

ɪ ɢᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪᴄᴇɴꜱᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ

ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ

'ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ

ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ

ʙᴜᴛ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ, ɪ ᴅʀᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜʙᴜʀʙꜱ

ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ 'ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ

You and Willy always talked about you getting your driver's license, but due to the fact that you were so busy studying for tests and finishing off school, you never managed to do so. He would often talk about how the major reason he wanted you to get it was so that you could drive to see him when he was bored or when he wanted to spend time with you. But you never got the chance to do any of that. When you finally got your driver's license, it was already too late; he had already left, and the only thing you could do now was drive through the suburbs of Calgary all the way up to Edmonton. ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙʟᴏɴᴅᴇ ɢɪʀʟ

ᴡʜᴏ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴅᴏᴜʙᴛ

ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴍᴇ

ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪ'ᴍ ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ

During the time that you were dating, you undoubtedly struggled with feelings of insecurity. You were extremely careful, but the only reason for this was that you didn't want to damage yourself again. You have a history of unsatisfactory relationships, the majority of which ended with the person you were dating cheating on you. You had many other insecurities as well, especially after seeing her with him. It was you who introduced her to him anyway. She was your friend and someone you trusted, but she betrayed you just like everyone else.

You can vividly recall the day when you first met Kat. In spite of the fact that there was just a three-year age gap between you two, she didn’t care at all how old you were. She was interesting, and she shared your hobbies. What more could you ask for? You two hung out every day and talked until you came to the conclusion that you should invite her over. It was the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. Willy and her connected right away, and without your knowledge, they gave each other their phone numbers and began texting one another every day. It's not like you had a problem with that; it was until they started lying to you and hanging out behind your back. You didn’t blame Willy at first, because Kat was persuasive and her fun demeanour could immediately convince anyone to hang out with her.

ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀʏ ꜰᴏʀ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ

ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴏᴋᴀʏ ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ɢᴏɴᴇ

ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ

'ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ, ɴᴏᴡ ɪ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴇᴛ You were aware that the two of you were not perfect. You both went through good times and bad times, and at times the two of you fought to the point where you broke up, but in the end, you always made up. You knew that he was the only person who could make you feel loved and protected for the first time, despite the fact that you occasionally detested him in heated moments such as arguments. You knew deep down that he was the first person you trusted to keep your heart safe in a relationship. You never thought he was interested in someone else, especially someone else who was your friend and whom you also trusted. You guys broke up on seemingly good terms, with him saying that he needed a break because he wanted to focus on his hockey career, and he hoped that he could go pro one day. You were very upset when you guys broke up, even though you kind of knew deep down that you guys would not be getting back together, but in your mind, you still clung onto a little bit of hope that things might change—that he might comeback. That never happened; multiple years passed by, and you tried your best to reach out to him and his family. Just to check up on him, but the number he once had that he used to always call you and text you on was out of service. It wasn't until one day that the thought occurred to you to check out his social media; you would just give a quick check just to see how he'd been, and then you'd never check it again. It was the worst mistake you could’ve ever made. His Instagram was filled with photos of Kat and him. One of the photos shows them smiling in a cafe. At the same cafe that you and Willy would always go to daily, you looked at the date on the photo, and as soon as you did, tears started falling onto the phone. It was the day after you two had ended the relationship. You didn’t know how he could be so okay after just one day. You guys were together for awhile, and you weren’t okay, especially on that day. You isolated yourself inside for weeks, and the only time you emerged into the sunlight was when you unlocked the door to get the food deliveries. Despite this, you weren't doing well even now, especially after learning this information. ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ

ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴜᴛ

ɪ ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇᴍ

'ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ'ʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏ

ʏᴇᴀʜ, ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ, ɪ ᴅʀᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜʙᴜʀʙꜱ

ᴀɴᴅ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴅʀɪᴠɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ

You were well aware that your close friends were growing tired of hearing you continuously vent about your ended relationship, but they had no idea what you were going through. They've never been in a relationship that lasted more than a few years. You and Will started dating when you were just 14 and split up when you were 18, and here you are, 6 years later, still hurting. You are aware that you should have moved on by now, but you do not want to experience that pain once more, and you know that you will not be able to love in the same manner that you once did in the past. William was the one and only person you've ever loved with such profound intensity, and despite the fact that it may be difficult for you to admit it, you still love him to this day.

You were aware that none of your friends knew William as well as you did. You and he spent your childhoods together and continued to do so until you both reached adulthood together. Your friends never hang out with him outside of planned get-togethers for holidays, such as Christmas or Halloween. There were a few of your friends who spoke to William, but the conversation never went beyond the "just friends" threshold. You knew that even if some of your friends continued to be friends with him to this day, their relationship with him would never be as close as it was between the two of you. When your friends finally spoke about him, all you heard was that an NHL team had allegedly selected him in the draft. This was the only information you received about him. You felt a sense of pride toward him. It was something he never stopped talking about; it was his dream, and he never stopped telling you that he wanted to play in the NHL at some point in his life. You wished you could congratulate him, but you unfortunately couldn't, and you weren’t just going to ask your friends for his new number. You had to forget about him eventually, and you decided to start now.

You made the decision to take one more drive into the city that you had

grown to passionately love. Your mind was making the assumption that you were travelling to his house to see him. The one thing he has always wanted you to do You were going to move on; you just knew it would take a bit longer, especially since you’ve been grieving for a bit.

ʀᴇᴅ ʟɪɢʜᴛꜱ, ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ꜱɪɢɴꜱ

ɪ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴀʀꜱ, ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ʏᴀʀᴅꜱ

ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇꜱ ᴡᴇ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ

'ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴ' ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴀʙᴇ (ᴏᴏʜ, ᴏᴏʜ-ᴏᴏʜ, ᴏᴏʜ, ᴏᴏʜ-ᴏᴏʜ)

ꜱɪᴅᴇᴡᴀʟᴋꜱ ᴡᴇ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴇᴅ

ɪ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀꜰꜰɪᴄ, ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ʟᴀᴜɢʜɪɴɢ

ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏɪꜱᴇ

ɢᴏᴅ, ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏ ʙʟᴜᴇ, ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ

ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴ' ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴀʙᴇ (ᴏᴏʜ, ᴏᴏʜ-ᴏᴏʜ, ᴏᴏʜ, ᴏᴏʜ-ᴏᴏʜ)

You had another breakdown just a few days after your 25th birthday. You found out about William's recent engagement to Kat from the word of mouth of your other pals. It was the worst possible piece of information that could have come your way. You were unable to hold back your tears the entire day. You made the decision to go for a drive in an effort to put an end to your crying. You always experienced an unanticipated sense of peace whenever you were behind the wheel. You thought the drive could give you the same peace you always experienced, but wherever you looked, you would see and hear him. You hesitated to drive past places you'd been with him, but today was different. Every traffic light and every stop sign, even every sidewalk. You closed your eyes, imagining the good times you'd had with him and how much you wanted them back. You still loved him, and now you know it for sure.

ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀʏ ꜰᴏʀ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ

ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴏᴋᴀʏ ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ɢᴏɴᴇ

Nobody’s perfect. He wasn’t perfect, and neither were you. You had your bad moments, and so did he. It was what made you guys stronger, but no matter how much effort and time you put into the relationship, it was never bound to work. He was happy now, and so were you. You learned to grow over it, and now you’ll hopefully find someone who makes you as happy as Kat made him. You wished things could’ve been different. Just maybe he could've had some more empathy for your feelings and cared just a little more after the breakup, but you were kind of grateful he didn’t. Because it made you not care about it anymore.

ʏᴇᴀʜ, ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ, ɴᴏᴡ ɪ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴇᴛ

It was something you'd never expected to do. Your friends suggested you go with them to a hockey game. You hesitated at the thought of it. What if he’s there? But they constantly reassured you that he was not on either of the teams playing tonight. You finally agreed and honestly wished you hadn’t. The moment you arrived at the arena and took your seat, you regretted it. You were sitting on the side where Calgary shoots twice. That means the other team warmups would be on the side you sat, and unfortunately, the seat your friends picked way prior to the start of the season was at the glass. Another big unfortunate thing was that it was the Toronto Maple Leafs. At first, you didn’t know he was on that team. It was not until all the Leafs players came out onto the ice that you saw the number and the last name. 88. You wanted to get out of there, but you couldn’t be rude to your friends, who paid a lot of money to get these seats. You made the quick decision to stay. Since it has been some time, it was possible that he would not recognize you. You also got over him fully two years ago when it was announced that he was engaged, so really, it shouldn’t have been an issue.

The undying fact was that you truly didn’t get over him. That was verified, because you’ve never gotten with anyone since him. You were waiting, and you didn’t entirely know why.

You were retrenched from your thoughts when your friend turned to you to tell you the news that made you stop altogether.

“You know he’s single, right?” JJ, who is one of your best friends, said

“Who?” You asked your first question nothing but shaky. You had a hint as to who she was talking about, but you wished that it wasn’t true.

“Will… You know you guys could finally get back together. He’s been single for a year now, and it looks like Kat and him are fully done.” JJ stated before quickly adding to the conversation. “You should give him another chance.” You didn't even bother to listen to the very end of what she had to say. When you heard this, a portion of you was overjoyed, but on the other hand, you felt anger rising up inside of you. This was a setup, and you had no patience for it. You ought to have seen from the beginning that this was odd. JJ spent the entire day yesterday hooked on her phone. Now everything makes perfect sense. He wanted a second chance, but you were unsure how to deal with it. You wanted to hear his side of the story about why he left. You knew the reason wasn’t just because he wanted to focus on hockey; you knew it was something more than that. You were torn. You still loved him and cared, but did he deserve it?

“You set me up?” You asked, trying your best not to just get up and leave and instead listen to what she has to say.

“He was messaging me yesterday, saying he wanted to talk to you and apologize to you for what he’s done. He really misses and cares about you, and he even said he made a mistake. He really loved you, and he wants everything back. He just misses you.” JJ’s voice was rolling quietly at the last part.

You fell quiet; you had no response to that. You were happy. But you didn’t want to get hurt again. You shook your head in denial before looking at the ice. The number 88 caught your eye multiple times. He knew you were here the moment you made eye contact with him. You felt yourself falling again, this time not tears. Instead, you felt yourself falling in love again. The way he looked at you was nothing but filled with love. It was comforting. He skated around before pressing his back against the glass you were seated in front of. The words Nylander are constantly catching your eye. The last name you’ve always wanted, but now you could maybe have it someday. You turned to JJ, giving her a nod before saying, "Fine, give me his number.” She squealed in excitement, giving you a side hug. You didn’t know it was the best idea to do it, but it was too late now, as you finished typing the numbers into your contact and sent a simple hello. Before turning off your phone,

The rest of the game went by quickly, and unfortunately, Calgary lost 7-3, with Nylander and Matthews both scoring two goals. You weren’t that experienced with the Maple Leafs and only really watched hockey whenever you were bored, and when you did, it was only Calgary and Edmonton that you watched.

After the game ended, you went home. You were hoping to go to bed as it was almost 3 a.m., but a chime from your phone distracted you completely. The text was from Will, and it was only an address. You took a few moments to consider it before making the decision to hop in your car and drive to the place.

You finally arrived at the location. It was definitely a hotel; the multiple-level building was a clear indication of that. You replied to him with a quick message saying “number?” and he quickly shot back a reply with just "1003." You spoke silently to yourself before remembering what happened in the past. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t get hurt again. You knew this could just end in you getting hurt again, and you weren’t ready for it. You already got hurt, and if it happens again, especially by the same person, you will never forgive yourself. You typed a quick message saying, “Sorry, I can’t.” You gave one last look at the building before starting your car again and driving off.

[scotianostra]

12th June 1997 saw The island of Eigg pass into community ownership when it was purchased by the Eigg Heritage Trust.

After years of instability, neglect and lack of secure tenure, the Isle of Eigg Heritage Trust was able to purchase the island on, largely due to the generosity of around ten thousand members of the general public

The Hebridean island of Eigg is second to St Kilda as the most famous of the smaller Scotttish isles. While St Kilda is renowned for its extinction as a place of human settlement, Eigg is celebrated for its rebirth. After overthrowing its eccentric, authoritarian owner two decades ago, this 31 sq km (12 sq mile) patch of moor and mountain was reborn as what is sometimes mockingly called the People’s Republic of Eigg.

This triumph of David versus Goliath has forged an apparently inspirational, sustainable community of 100 people.

A series of owners tried unsuccessfully to run some sort of business on Eigg during the latter part of the 20th century, from the Welsh Farmer whose Hereford cattle promptly died of bracken poisoning. Disheartened, he got rid of Eigg for £110,000 in 1971 to Bernard Farnham-Smith, self-styled naval commander, head of an English charity that wanted to run the island as a school for disabled boys, by 1973 the Eigg’s own school had only one pupil. Rather more successful was eccentric Keith Schoenberg, a dashing, Yorkshire-born businessman and former Olympic bobsleigher, acquired Eigg.

He was a charming, persuasive adventurer, who, over the next 20 years endeared himself to the guests by allowing them to perch on the running board as he drove them to beach picnics or moonlit games of hockey. One failed marriage after the other ended with him reluctantly having to sell the island in 1992 in his divorce settlement, in a surprise move he ended up bidding and became sole owner of Eigg, this didn’t go down well with the Islanders who were tiring of him, culminating in a fire in sheds on Eigg’s pier, with Schellenberg’s Roller inside. Police arrived but noone was ever brought to justice for the arson attack, maybe the Polis were just happy to get off the island alive rather than ending up in a wooden effigy atop a bonfire! “It was once the laird’s factor [his estate manager] who went about burning people out. Now it seems OK to burn out the laird himself,” fumed Schellenberg.

By 1995 he had enough and put the island up for sale, but refused to sell to the population, it should really be of no surprise that the knew owner seemed more eccentric than the previous one, self style Professor Gotthilf Christian Eckhard Oesterle was a fire-worshipping German artist and self-styled “professor” who went by the name of Maruma having read the new name in a pool of water in Geneva.

He declared it was impossible to own Eigg and vowed to improve opportunities for the community, build a swimming pool, and replace the dirty diesel generators that provided electricity with an integrated system of wind and solar power. The press discovered that, unfortunately, Maruma was not quite what he seemed: he was unknown in the art world, he wasn’t a proper professor, and he had used Eigg as security for a £300,000 loan at a punitive 20% interest rate. He promised to remove the island’s rusty old cars, but a pile of wrecks soon accumulated by the pier: locals dubbed it “the Maruma centre”. In July 1996, the island was put up for sale again, at an inflated price of £2m.

The Islanders Trust rthrew themselves into raising the asking price. . The story of the islanders who wanted to buy their own island was portrayed as a jolly romp in the style of Compton Mackenzie’s Whisky Galore, in which Hebridean islanders rebel against British bureaucrats. Eigg folk didn’t particularly relish this stereotype, but it captured imaginations and raised money.

Donations began flowing in at the rate of £1,000 per post bag; soon it was £30,000 per bag. Concerts took place in Edinburgh, Glasgow, Tyrone – and even Detroit – to raise funds. A mystery benefactor, a woman from northern England whose identity remains secret. gave £900,000. Most donations came from England. Outsiders were shocked by the feudalism that the islanders endured – the owners even decided which of them, if any, could eat Eigg’s seaweed – and worried about the possible fate of its pristine environment. The wildlife trusts, including the Scottish Wildlife Trust, were particularly effective at mobilising their members to help Eigg.

Meanwhile, the island’s Trust feared that Maruma’s German estate agent would sell Eigg to another international client. The agent described the Scottish islands on his books as “the Van Goghs” of 120 personally inspected paradises: “There is a sense of romance in buying islands. It is the ultimate purchase you can make, a complete miniature world of which you can be king.” Maruma’s creditor, a German clothing exporter, finally put the islanders out of their misery. After Maruma defaulted on his £300,000 loan, the creditor used the Scottish courts to force Eigg’s sale. His solicitors accepted the islanders’ offer of £1.5m on 4 April 1997. Finally, the people of Eigg owned their island.

Eigg has been hailed as Scotland’s most Eco-Friendly Island and the community trust are doing a great job of running a successful business, which includes offering accommodation, courses and working holidays for volunteers, you can read more about the Island on their website here. http://www.isleofeigg.org/

[linskywords]

pleaseeeee talk more about jack/noah persuasion au? they're so perfect for it, noah trying after years to win jack back while jack's hiding the heartbreak with fury

Right?? Poor Noah, entering this locker room where he should in theory have a best friend from junior to introduce him around and ease him into the social scene, and instead he has this guy who's totally freezing him out and who he's realizing he's maybe never gonna stop being in love with. He can't stop thinking about how it would have been, if he'd never broken up with Jack: how they would be on this team together now, getting to see each other constantly and even live together and play amazing hockey and have everything they wanted when they were kids. The way Jack's face would light up when Noah walked into a room and he'd get all of Jack's snide comments and it would be the happiest time of his life.

As it is, Noah's struggling around the edges of the Knights' social scene, trying not to make it obvious how awkward it is anytime he's in a group with Jack, when it feels like Jack isn't trying at all. He has no idea who knows the story and whether they hate him for it, or who has no idea and is just thinking this new guy is kind of weird and standoffish. And there's Jack. Not smiling at Noah, but smiling at other guys, joking with the group, and Noah sees him like that and wants him so much. Even though he knows it's too late.

[killingsboys]

read in 2024!

it's that time again! i loved doing reading threads in 2022 and 2023 so i will definitely be carrying on the tradition this year. as always, you can find me on goodreads and storygraph, and you're always welcome to message me about books!

Check, Please! Book 1: #Hockey by Ngozi Ukazu* (★★★★★)

Check, Please! Book 2: Sticks and Stones by Ngozi Ukazu* (★★★★★)

Check, Please! Chirpbook by Ngozi Ukazu* (★★★★★)

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (★★★★★)

The Bad Ones by Melissa Albert** (★★★★☆)

Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng (★★★★★)

None of This Is True by Lisa Jewell (★★★☆☆)

Get a Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert (★★★☆☆)

The Mysterious Case of the Alperton Angels by Janice Hallett (★★★★☆)

Dream Work by Mary Oliver (★★★★☆)

Everyone on This Train Is a Suspect by Benjamin Stevenson (★★★★☆)

Cain’s Jawbone by E. Powys Mathers

The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang (★★★★★)

You’ve Been Summoned by Lindsey Lamar** (★★☆☆☆)

The Seven Ages by Louise Glück (★★★★☆)

The Last Girl Left by A.M. Strong & Sonya Sargent** (★★★☆☆)

The Dragon Republic by R.F. Kuang (★★★★★)

The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison

Normal People by Sally Rooney (★★★★★)

How to Solve Your Own Murder by Kristen Perrin** (★★★☆☆)

She Drives Me Crazy by Kelly Quindlen (★★☆☆☆)

The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins (★★★☆☆)

The Drowning Faith by R.F. Kuang (★★★★★)

Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner (★★★★★)

The Burning God by R.F. Kuang (★★★★★)

King Lear by William Shakespeare (★★★★☆)

All These Sunken Souls by assorted authors, edited by Circe Moskowitz (★★★★☆)

The Big Four by Agatha Christie (★★★☆☆)

The Avant-Guards, Vol. 1 by Carly Usdin, Noah Hayes (★★★★☆)

That Was Then, This Is Now by S.E. Hinton (★★☆☆☆)

The Avant-Guards, Vol. 2 by Carly Usdin, Noah Hayes (★★★★☆)

Jurassic Park by Michael (★★★☆☆)

The Magician’s Nephew by C.S. Lewis (★★★☆☆)

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo (★★★★★)

Violeta by Isabel Allende (★★★☆☆)

Wrong Place Wrong Time by Gillian McAllister (★★★★☆)

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis (★★★★☆)

Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic by Alison Bechdel (★★★★☆)

The Color Purple by Alice Walker (★★★★★)

The Weary Blues by Langston Hughes (★★★★★)

Third Girl by Agatha Christie (★★★☆☆)

The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis (★★★☆☆)

Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin (★★★★★)

In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado (★★★★★)

Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis (★★★☆☆)

I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman, translated by Ros Schwartz (★★★★★)

Persuasion by Jane Austen (★★★★★)

V for Vendetta by Alan Moore & David Lloyd (★★★★☆)

What Lies in the Woods by Kate Alice Marshall (★★★☆☆)

We Could Have Been Friends, My Father and I: A Palestinian Memoir by Raja Shehadeh

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez

Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie* (★★★★★)

Legendborn by Tracy Deonn (★★★★☆)

The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin* (★★★★★)

Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi (★★★★☆)

An asterisk (*) indicates a reread. A double asterisk (**) indicates an ARC.

[hockeyspiral23]

About Me

Hi. I’m T.

Cancer, early-80s baby. From the western mountains of the U.S., born and raised, though I have moved a state over (still in mountains). East coast for college. Love to travel and have traveled quite a few places, including all over my own country. I prefer to do it in my baby, Fiona, a 16yo car with 360k+ miles on her.

Have always loved to read and write and draw, but stopped most post-college. Got back seriously into reading thanks to 2020 and Rebecca Yarros’s Empyrean series has gotten me back into writing and I am forever grateful.

I love hockey - and play it - and am an Ironman triathlete. I love to cook and to bake. I like shiny rocks and dragons and dinosaurs and stuffed animals and not acting my age … and thankfully married a guy who enjoys acting similarly.

My music tastes are polyjamorous - I will legit listen to pretty much anything and everything, but I do tend mostly to the rock side of things.

FOR FAN FICTION

I’ve spent decades reading it, mostly in the Pride and Prejudice world (with bits and pieces of Persuasion and Labyrinth (and really old original smut pieces on ancient geocities sites of some chick and her friends with wrestlers and minor league hockey players …)), but have only recently published, and only with the Empyrean:

RSC Lesson - Coping Mechanisms

(536 words, completed)

First post; my take on why PTSD doesn’t exist at Basgiath.

I’ll Always Keep You in Mind

(4375 words, completed)

In which our characters are in rock bands. I entirely blame @siobhanbooks on this one. 😜 Also in which I apparently invent Bodociam as a ship. 🤷‍♀️

Window of Opportunity

(229 words, completed)

Blame @yanny-77 ‘s The Underpants Heist for inspiring this one. (originally posted here on tumblr)

victory is all you need

(98,113 words (out of … ~100k iirc), m/th/sa update schedule)

Modern college hockey AU and my baby of which I am so dang proud PLEASE LOVE IT TOOOOOO.

Xaden Riorson, PI

tumblr-posted plot bunny that I WILL NOT BE FINISHING. Probably. Think 1930s detective stories and film noir. But this came to me while running and I had to word vomit it out. Feel free to steal and give me credit if you expand on it.

The Backup Plan

(15,041 words, completed)

Pseudo-soulmates story. Violet, daughter of the king’s head of security, is dragged to a betrothal party for the prince of Tyrrendor. She and her best friend are expected to get married eventually … but he and the king’s son are in love already. That Tyrrish prince? His name is Xaden and he negotiated two hours to find a better option. And a lot can happen in a handful of hours … (also I contribute my second ship to the fandom: Dain x Halden)

In the character waiting room

Tiny microfiction tumblr-only post in honor of @siobhanbooks’s birthday. Bodhi gets another fucking assignment … but this one he likes just fine.

[justinelark]

"Identity Porn"

Identity porn is a trope where character A doesn't know who character B really is. One example is that Lois Lane knows both Clark Kent and Superman and doesn't realize they are the same person. Another example is in the movies "The Shop Around the Corner" and "You've Got Mail," where the characters are corresponding anonymously with someone who they know and don't like in real life. I love the dramatic irony of it all. Eventually the characters will find out, and then what??

SidClaude: I Know Everything You Don't Want Me To by whimsicalmerkeet, E, 10660 words The NHL decides the players need anonymous pen pals to deal with the quarantine. Nobody likes the idea, but Claude Giroux finds more in his partner than he expected.

My comments: At first neither of them knows who he's writing to, but Claude figures it out. open up your plans, and damn, you're free by vaguelyfamiliar, T, 14392 words No, Sid doesn’t genuinely think it’s his childhood celebrity crush Steve Yzerman making him mixtapes and leaving chocolates on his desk, but he has no idea who it could actually be. Hilary knows he’s gay, Claude hates him, and everyone else hardly talks to him. My comments: AU in which Sid and Claude are both interns for the 2007-08 Detroit Red Wings learn not to look at you with scorn by ologist, M, 4559 words Claude Giroux has a ridiculous crush on Sidney Crosby. Clearly, the only way to resolve this is to woo him anonymously. SidGeno: I thought SidGeno would be very tricky to do because of Geno's English but these brilliant writers have figured out a way!

Academic Dishonesty by iBear, T, 10437 words For years now, Geno has managed to keep his two lives separate. Academics and hockey rarely intersect, and with his very specific interest in Russian military leadership in World War II, he doesn't expect the streams to cross. Ever.

Sidney Crosby always does break expectations.

there is a lake in me by hauntologie, E, 21812 words In retrospect, Flower can totally understand why Geno didn't tell Sid who he actually was. Sid is incredibly persuasive when he wants to get laid. My comments: Geno unexpectedly wakes up in the body of a woman. This story features Sid keeping a logbook of stats on his sexual encounters. Someone New by getoffmyhead, E, 25233 words Zhenya knew he’d messed up when Sid’s eyes darted over to him, and his face didn’t brighten with fondness. Sid always seemed pleased to see him and responded with the most sincere smile.

Instead, Sid’s eyes found Zhenya with a puzzled squint, and Zhenya’s blood ran cold. He knew what Sid was looking at—a total stranger. Sid didn’t know why the stranger was speaking to him.

Zhenya had been around Sid long enough to know how this would go. Once he figured out he definitely did not know this guy, Sid would nod with a tight, fake smile at the stranger. He would never break his stride, politely but firmly indicating that he had somewhere to be. He would exit the stranger’s presence as quickly and unobtrusively as possible.

Except that wasn’t what happened. Sid’s steps slowed, feet turning to approach Zhenya directly. “Hey,” he said with a smile—not the profoundly fond one that brightened his whole face in an unmistakable expression of delight at seeing Zhenya. This smile was something sharper, more focused.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day Eight - Fireplace @sapphicmicrofics

April Daily Series - 620 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

When Regulus released a deep sigh, Marlene felt it in her soul. It was the sort of sigh that summed up an entire life wasted, a cherished relationship lost, or a heart so full of love and nowhere to expend it. Even if he didn’t know Marlene well, Regulus clearly knew the feeling.

“Dorcas is a complicated person to love,” he said, enunciating each word carefully. “She is fiercely loyal and protective of her close circle, but she takes rejection personally. It’s a breach of trust, and she doesn’t trust easily.”

Marlene nodded, grateful that he understood Dorcas as well as she did. It had taken her months to wriggle her way into Dorcas’s circle of friends at the end of uni. If it weren’t for Emmeline, she doubted that she would have been accepted at all. Marlene used every persuasive technique in her arsenal to convince Dorcas to date her. She doubted a charm offensive would fix this though.

I can’t fix it, even if I wanted to. Nothing’s changed.

Even though her heart ached when she saw Dorcas again, the truth hurt far more. Hockey was as much a part of Marlene as her limbs. Attempting to function without the adrenaline rush, dopamine hit, and physical release was an exercise in futility. She wasn’t herself without it.

“You’re addicted,” Dorcas used to say. She wasn’t wrong.

Regulus wrapped his hands around his glass and stared into the clear liquid pensively. He was a little deeper into his cups than she was. Perhaps alcohol made him introspective.

“It’s not my place to say anything,” he said finally, shaking his head.

“I understand.”

James offered her a sympathetic smile. If anyone could relate, it was James. He was the epitome of “loving too much” and “falling hard.”

Pandora and Lily reappeared at the edge of the table with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. They spent the last thirty minutes out on the pathetic excuse for a dance floor. This pub didn’t even have a proper DJ, just a streaming app spitting out some arsehole’s playlist over the speaker system.

“Come dance with us!” Lily pleaded. “It will make you feel better.”

Marlene started to decline, then shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

James slid out of the booth to give her room. When she glanced back, she wasn’t surprised to see him slide in next to his boyfriend and bury his face in the man’s neck. Sirius was right. Marlene’s envy of the couple flared like the first light tossed in a dormant fireplace. What she thought were dry, weathered feelings had sparked to life immediately.

I need a distraction.

As she followed Lily and Pandora through the crowd, Marlene searched the faces around them. She didn’t need a hook-up, just a flirtation. A pretty girl who matched her energy and needed a little attention was exactly what she wanted.

When she spotted the woman at the bar, her gut twisted with recognition. She knew that dye job anywhere. Now that was a distraction. If someone as brutal as her could be reduced to such a simple term.

Piercing grey eyes met hers as a predator’s smile spread over her face. Narcissa fucking Malfoy. This divorcée was a brilliant rebound that she met at a party six months ago and it took her a week to recover. It hadn’t even occurred to Marlene that she would be in London.

Within seconds, her long nails trailed Marlene’s arm as she leaned in to whisper, “Hello, darling. Did you miss me?”

Marlene swallowed hard and nodded. Narcissa was an acid trip for a stoner. Before she knew what hit her, she was drowning in it.

I will definitely regret this, but not until tomorrow.

Next Part >>>

[msmargaretmurry]

Oh! I did think of something lol, since I’m getting back into hockey after a bit and I’ve moved back home-ish I feel obligated to be a Bruins fan, but the only irl people I know who are Bruins fans I just /know/ will have the worst takes, but on the other hand, angry boston accents are amazing. Thoughts?

OK SO. i assume you're in the boston area, which is awesome, i love boston. i haven't been in a few years but i'm going next month and i'm so excited!! what a great city. (unless you're somewhere else entirely and just happen to be surrounded by bruins fans with bad takes, in which case: i'm sorry.)

now, being a girlie of the east coast persuasion who is NOT from the dunkin donuts region of new england i have to say that i am morally opposed to boston sports. i can't help that, it's in the water. however, if you ARE in the boston area, i will say that being a hometown team fan can be VERY fun in a way that's just kind of impossible to get otherwise. so i won't judge you if you want to be a bruins fan. i have some boston-area friends who are huge bruins fans who have great takes, so fun bruins fans definitely exist and maybe you can find some! or, perhaps, you can infect the people you already know with your good takes.

if you decide you want to try being a bruins fan, here are my tips: commit to being a homer, but base it love for your team, not disdain for other teams. (this doesn't mean you can't be a hater when it's called for. in this house we love nursing a grudge.) just, take advantage of being local to other fans. being a hometown fan myself, i love just being able to go out and be in my community of people who love my team with me. pick yourself some little dudes to root for. may i suggest matt grzelcyk? just allow yourself to delight in the antics and mostly, decide to be a fan for YOUR reasons, and don't let the bad take brigade ruin it for you. also, angry boston accents ARE amazing. i support you.

if you decide you don't want to be a bruins fan, or to be a very casual bruins fan who also roots for other teams (not sure if this is legal in boston but breaking the law is sexy so don't worry about it) i would highly recommend, if you are a person who goes to bars, googling "[city/team] bars in [your area]". if there's one near you, you might be able to make some friends!

regardless of what fan path you choose, i hope you have fun diving back in!! 💙💙