#last day of quarantine and I’ve finally lost it fyi

[sourkitsch]

waiting patiently to fall back in love with my ch*rik regency/gothic romance au I can’t have written nearly 40k words for nothing come on

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 282: Aizawa Defeeted

Previously on BnHA: Oh my god do we even care about that at this point. Tomura made a speech; Gran Torino died; Deku lost his shit and tried to strangle Tomura to death with his bare hands; Ryuukyuu came back from Wherever She Was and tried to grab Tomura but he punched a hole through her giant hand; and now he’s grabbing his Quirk-Be-Gone bullets and is ready to cause some mayhem okay?? That about sum it up?? Is anyone even reading this?? CAN WE JUST GET ON WITH IT I’VE WAITED AN ENTIRE WEEK.

Today on BnHA: Well I guess let’s start with what doesn’t happen: Bakugou doesn’t lose his quirk. HE LUCKED OUT!!... for now, anyways. Because, thanks to a near-impossible-to-predict series of events (seriously, raise your hands if you had “Aizawa gets shot but goes full World War Z on his own ass” on your bingo card), Tomura has seemingly regained his regeneration powers, which means that his other quirks are probably back online as well! So we’ll see how that all goes. Anyway so in the meantime Shouto’s back, looking very mad that everyone temporarily forgot he was a main character. And Gigantomachia is back as well! Or almost, anyway. Also, you’ll never guess who broke another one of his arms! Go on, guess. But at least he still has the arm, though, which is more than we can say for certain other people’s limbs. Poor Aizawa is literally on his last leg. He and Tomura really got off on the wrong foot. He chopped his leg off, is what I’m saying. It’s that kind of chapter folks.

you guys I’m losing my whole fucking mind. I straight up deleted the tumblr app off my phone for 24 hours so that I wouldn’t be tempted to log in and risk potentially being spoiled. and I’m happy to say that it worked! so here we are now, completely spoiler free, and let me just say that if Horikoshi decides to cut back to Gunga Mountain now, I will either cry for hours or abandon the series forever and go do something more productive with the rest of my quarantine like learning how to play sad songs on the guitar

all right. here goes

so we’re opening with Deku, who is currently comprised of 100% rage and 0% mercy, and is doing that thing where only the whites of his eyes are visible. and basically he’s just thinking “I’VE REALLY GOT TO HOLD ON TO THIS GUY AND MAKE SURE HE DOESN’T DO ANYTHING ELSE HOMICIDAL.” which is a solid game plan, but perhaps not so easily accomplished

-- oh my god this poor kid is still in denial, I can’t. why are you doing this

is there even still a Gran Torino to tend to at this point? after Tomura bulldozed a hole through his torso, and you went and finished the job with your own fucking attack? sob

but I guess the law of Tragic Shounen Mentor Deaths mandates that Gran’s should be at least as drawn-out as Nighteye’s was, though. so he’s probably only Mostly Dead, which is still Slightly Alive if I remember my Princess Bride correctly, and I think I do

so now the rest of these stooges are finally catching up with us here

yes, my friends. a bullet. WELCOME TO MY LIFE FOR THE PAST FUCKING WEEK. anyways I have a LOT of pent-up energy here just fyi. there may be a lot of unnecessary screaming in this recap

FUCKING WYOMING SMASH Y’ALLSSSS

I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT JUST HAPPENED SOB. DID HE JUST HAMMER FIST TOMURA’S HEAD INTO THE GROUND. DID HE SNAP HIS FUCKING NECK AT 100%. IN AN IDEAL WORLD HE WOULD HAVE JUST CHOPPED TOMURA’S ARMS OFF WHILE SOMEHOW MANAGING TO AVOID BREAKING ANY OF HIS OWN BONES IN THE PROCESS, BUT I HAVE A FEELING THIS SITUATION WILL NOT BE RESOLVED IN ANY KIND OF MANNER ONE WOULD CONSIDER “IDEAL”

(ETA: fun fact: this attack did absolutely nothing except make things approximately 100x worse. but you tried Deku. you tried.)

THE FUCK KIND OF PORTENTOUS BULLSHITTING TITLE IS THIS. OH MY GOD, I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT EMOTION I’M HAVING RIGHT NOW, IT’S JUST A LOT OF LOUD THOUGHTS

anyway so if you’re just joining us, Tomura just pulled two bullets out of his pocket, the good guys finally noticed, and then Deku did a smash and everything exploded. the radius of this attack actually looks wide enough to have potentially involved Aizawa, who probably does NOT want to get any debris in his eyes right now, and also Gran, who probably doesn’t particularly want to be hit by another deadly attack for the third time in the past ninety seconds. anyway so I guess what I’m trying to say here is WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THAT YOU LITTLE GREEN LUNATIC

AHHHHHH

he got the one!! the one that was in Tomura’s right hand!! but what about the one in his left ahhhhhhh

(ETA: lmao at Kacchan being the one to blow up the same bullet I was so sure he was going to be shot with. saw the writing on the wall, huh kid? what do we say to the god of foreshadowing?? ‘NOT TODAY.’ ...except that we’re still not actually out of the woods yet so you still better watch yourself lol.)

...

based on the font here, these are Tomura’s thoughts. which he is thinking immediately after getting the lower half of his jaw very painfully cronched by the VERY homicidal sixteen-year-old still clinging to him. anyway so Tomura’s thought processes are as inscrutable to me as ever lulz

and Deku’s arm looks broken again, yaaaaay. but at least it’s his left arm and not his right! so that’s nice. now they can match

[SHRIEKS]

HE YEETED IT. IT HAS BEEN YEETEDED. HE DID A YEET. [sobbing] he DiD a YeEt oH my GOD

DID IT HIT SOMETHING!?!?!?

my reading process here is as follows: 1) scroll down exactly one panel. 2) scream even though absolutely nothing has happened yet. 3) WRITE THAT DOWN 4) REPEAT

DKSFJLKHSDLGKHLI

DID IT HIT HIM!?!? DID IT GET HIM IN THE LEG SOB ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS. JUST LIKE THAT?? BOOM GUN BULLET LEG!!?

YOU GUYS IT REALLY HIT AIZAWA AND NO ONE DID A GODDAMN THING?? it wasn’t even drawn out or anything??? it just HAPPENED, within like four pages??? NO SLOW MO?? NOT EVEN A REACTION PANEL WHAT THE FUCK

son of a bitch I would so dearly like to grab Manual and RockLockRock’s heads right now and just conk them together real hard. YOU STUPID FUCKS sob YOU HAD ONE JOB!!! IT REALLY WAS JUST ONE!! AND YOU WERE SHARING IT!! SO IT’S MORE LIKE HALF A JOB!! AND YOU STILL COCKED IT UP IN ABSOLUTELY NO TIME AT ALL OH MY GOD

(ETA: they should blow this panel up and make it into a t-shirt and make Manual and RLR wear the shirts every day for the rest of their lives. half a job, you guys. please go away I cannot even look at you right now.)

FUCK MY EVERYTHING

(ETA: I still can’t figure out if this horrific angle is due to the earlier damage from the Noumu, or if Tomura really just flung the bullet THAT hard. honestly I’m surprised it didn’t just slice right through him with that kind of velocity. “no thanks because then I wouldn’t get to write a scene where he chops his own leg off” oh okay well when you put it that way, Horikoshi.)

if I recall correctly this is the leg that he said was “twisted”, no? yeesh. might just want to chop it off real quick, then. s’not like it’s doing you any more good. does anyone know if zombie rules apply or not with this sort of thing?? shit

?!?!

“THANKS”?? okay what. did it hit him or not??

-- oh my god WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT

I WAS -- I WAS JOKING I -- FFFFFFFFKJK

jesus fucking christ. when I said “might just want to chop it off real quick” literally FOUR PARAGRAPHS AGO, I can tell you that the one thing I did NOT expect was for Aizawa to be all, “you know what, that’s a good idea”, and then YOINK OUT HIS TRUSTY HERO SHANK AND GO FULL 127 HOURS ON THIS BITCH. "LALALA WE’RE GONNA DO IT RATIONALLY TEEHEE” like excuse me, the fuck

anyways. I don’t even know what to say. thank you Aizawa’s leg for your sacrifice, and for always supporting him. literally. oh my god I came here ready for my son to enter a new phase of character development, and for the manga as a whole to enter a new phase of glorious, glorious angst. no one told me I’d be sitting here making puns instead. what a fine, confusing day

anyway though let’s just fucking hope it worked. and side note, if Aizawa Shouta really did chop off his own fucking leg just now and somehow STILL managed not to fucking blink, I think we might as well just go ahead and hand him the Biggest Badass In The Series award right now because no one is ever going to top that. nope. not happening

it is truly a testament to Shigaraki Tomura’s unfathomably mysterious sexy villain energy that he still somehow manages to look hot with only half a face

also no one in this manga actually feels pain, do they. not Deku, not Aizawa, not Tomura, no one. no wonder none of them have any self-preservation instincts to speak of

um

did someone just randomly explode just now. at this point it might as well happen, right

oh it’s the shockwave from Deku’s Wyoming attack, apparently. how nice of it to have a delayed reaction for absolutely no reason

anyway so Deku’s being flung back, but he’s grabbing onto Tomura again with Blackwhip. but oh shit you guys, if Tomura escapes Deku and Ryuukyuu’s clutches and still has any bullets left in his pocket, we may still be able to salvage this Bakugou quirk situation after all. would be nice to be able to actually do something with all of these “happy quirk losing day” balloons that I ordered

(ETA: actually, believe it or not I honestly like this better. Tomura using AFO was always the more dramatic option anyway. and now that we’ve done the bullet thing everyone has presumably let their guard down again, which, good.)

I love how Tomura apparently hasn’t noticed that Aizawa’s just amputated his own leg? to be fair he’s probably distracted by all the explosions and such

also gotta love how Deku’s arm-breaking attack seemingly just made everything worse for no reason. and also how Manual and RockLockRock are once again just standing there doing absolutely nothing

SO NOW GUESS WHAT’S HAPPENING

I MEAN IT! GUESS. BECAUSE YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE LOL

OH WELL OKAY THEN

just like we all saw coming!! ...

so is this Endeavor’s attack?? Bakugou’s?? either way, hot damn. fortunately for Tomura he is apparently operating under the same guidelines as the U.S. Federal Reserve, in which mutilated bills may still be exchanged at face value if more than 50% of a note identifiable as United States currency is present. basically as long as roughly half of him is still vaguely Tomura-shaped I assume he’ll be fine

(ETA: in hindsight I should have immediately been able to identify this as a Shouto attack based solely on how murdery it was lol.)

OH MY GODDDD

KRANCH?!?

OH MY GOD LOL WHAT. LOL. REMEMBER EVERYONE’S THEORIES FROM LIKE TWENTY YEARS AGO LOL. SHOUTO WHAT THE FUCK. DID YOU STOP FOR DRIVE THRU

AND MEANWHILE DEKU’S BACK ON THE SCENE GIVING ARGUABLY EVEN LESS FUCKS THAN BEFORE, IF SUCH A THING IS EVEN POSSIBLE. SO FAR THIS CHAPTER HAS PRECISELY ZERO THINGS THAT I ACTUALLY EXPECTED IN IT, WHICH IS VERY IMPRESSIVE

IT ALSO HAS A LOT OF SMASHING

a LOT. of smashing, guys. feels like... 60% smashing, 20% severed legs, 20% Kranch

-- oh no oh SHIT oh shit oh shit

(ETA: um so I really can’t tell how far that wound extends and whether or not Aizawa still has his right eye, shit.)

first of all how did Deku get here next to Aizawa when he was just over there with Tomura, what. and second, I think Aizawa just blinked, oh shit. probably on the verge of passing out after CHOPPING HIS OWN LEG OFF which STILL hasn’t been acknowledged yet?? did I just completely misinterpret all of that back there or what

(ETA: there was seriously so little attention called to this that I scrolled back up to confirm it probably like half a dozen times. apparently Horikoshi thinks that THE MOST BADASS THING TO EVER HAPPEN IN THE MANGA should be completely downplayed. whereas if it were me, there’d be an entire two page spread of JUST THE LEG. WITH MUSIC PLAYING. EVEN THOUGH IT’S A MANGA.)

YEPPPPPPP. fuck

look at him though. he’s so happy. this is why I can’t stay mad at you no matter how deranged you get you little maniac

so is quirk-stealing back on the menu then or what. don’t think I’ve been lulled into any kind of false sense of security by any of this lol

-- ARE WE SERIOUSLY CUTTING AWAY

so Todoroki really went after them ALONE. the better to put his dad right back up at the top of the Lose Your Quirk Sweepstakes finalists. well... second-to-top, maybe. like I said I will not be lulled

yuh-oh

why do I feel like the odds of Gigantomachia arriving to herald the end of this chapter just shot up DRAMATICALLY

so the next page is almost entirely just a list of cities that the news anchor is telling people to evacuate because they’re in Machia’s path. along with a bunch of dead heroes lying around everywhere, and Ochako being all ominous

(: weren’t they, though? heh. this is going to be so, so bad (: (: (:

-- fuuuuuuuuuuu

aaaaaand that’s it. hahahaha. okay then let’s summarize

Bakugou defied all expectations and kept his quirk (FOR NOW)!

Aizawa cut his own fucking leg off and it WASN’T EVEN REMOTELY ACKNOWLEDGED FOR REASONS I CAN’T UNDERSTAND (R.I.P. AIZAWA’S PRECIOUS LEG. YOU ALWAYS PUT YOUR BEST FOOT FORWARD)

Kranch showed up after 157 years and is probably wondering why the heck I keep calling him “Kranch” now. THINGS CHANGE WHEN YOU’RE MIA FOR A WHILE MY LITTLE STARBUCKS CHRISTMAS CUP

Deku broke his arm for the 78th time

Tomura regenerated but seems to think Aizawa’s quirk is actually gone for good, which I’m pretty sure it’s not. so if they can keep him from destroying everything long enough for Aizawa to turn it back on again, we might possibly still survive this

and lastly, Machia is about to kill all of these stupid people frolicking around outside of this fitness club who are probably so proud of themselves for not being glued to their phones 24/7 because they prefer to LIVE LIFE IN THE MOMENT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. well that’s on you my friends. at least it’ll be a quick death. ffff

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 21

A/N:  I’ve always wanted to write a super-tropey scene like the bar scene in this so I went ahead and did it and I LOVE IT, OKAY?!  Also, if you haven’t seen, I posted Part 3 of my Elias story last Thursday.  It’s linked on my Masterlist!

Also, just a quick note that I will be returning to a full-time job after Labour Day today.  I have enough chapters written out that I don’t think I will have to skip a week of posting, and I organize my time wisely so that I still give myself time to write, but this is just a PSA/FYI that I may not get to your asks/canon questions super quickly like I have been over quarantine.  They will still ALL be answered, though, so don’t worry about that!

Anyways, enjoy this! 

February 18th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was dejected.  

The Leafs had lost their last two games, but these felt different.  They’d lost to Buffalo on Sunday 5-2, and Buffalo was one of the worst teams in the league.  It didn’t even matter that there were a majority of Leaf fans in the building.  Now, tonight, they’d just lost 5-2 again, but this time to Pittsburgh.  She couldn’t keep her eyes off her phone, with tweet upon tweet upon tweet calling this the worst game of the season for the team.  Just an absolutely awful game.  No effort.  No heart.  No soul.  One that they would have to answer for at home, since they faced them again on Thursday, but this time at home.  She didn’t even like hockey and she was taking everything to heart because, well – she was part of the team now.  Everybody had told her that since day one.  And now, at one of the lowest points in the season, she felt that.

She couldn’t stop scrolling.  Couldn’t stop reading what everybody was saying.

It was Tyson who had volunteered to drive her home tonight.  Ever since Morgan broke his ankle, it was a rotation of Tyson or John.  When Emma picked up Tyson, she was just as nice, but she missed Bee.  She missed seeing the way Morgan looked at Bee when they were in the car, because it reminded her of how William looked at her when they were alone.

Aberdeen shuffled into the backseat of Tyson’s SUV.  Tyson was in the driver’s seat, and Emma was the passenger.  Everyone was silent as Tyson began driving into the city – she and Emma could tell he was dejected and mad at the game that had transpired just a few hours ago.  The short flight did nothing to quell his emotions.  And as Emma laid her hand on his on the gearshift, Aberdeen watched as she moved her thumb back and forth, trying to tell him that it was all okay.

“Tys…it’s not your fault,” Emma said softly, finally, after what felt like a lifetime of silence.  

“Em—”

“Tyson, listen to me.”

“—Emma, please, not right now—”

His eyes flashed to hers through the rear view mirror, but Emma wouldn’t listen to him.  “I know it and you know it too.  The whole defence is flawed.  Plus, you guys are missing Mo.  It’s not just you and you know that—”

“—Emma, I really don’t want to talk about it right now—”

“—and besides, if – or should I say when – you’re traded at the deadline, none of this will matter,” she dropped a bombshell.  “Everyone knows you’re unhappy and it’s not working out and that you’re much better suited to play somewhere else.”

Aberdeen felt her body stiffen at the revelation.  So Tyson was unhappy.  Unhappy with playing on the Leafs.  She knew he wasn’t having the best season, especially considering how successful he’d been in Colorado, but she didn’t think it was that bad.  He’d gotten better when Sheldon came in, but apparently that wasn’t enough.  It wasn’t enough to make him happy.  And in Aberdeen’s life, happiness was important.  It was almost paramount.  What you did and who you surrounded yourself with and your work should, ultimately, make you happy.  Was it the same in hockey?  Were hockey players allowed to be happy?  Were hockey players on the Toronto Maple Leafs allowed to be happy?  Or was everything just a business transaction?  A long road to the ultimate success of lifting the Stanley Cup, regardless of who got hurt along the way?

Tyson let out a long sigh as he continued to drive, choosing not to answer his girlfriend or say anything else.  When they got off the Gardiner and into downtown, Aberdeen was almost desperate to get out.  She felt very awkward.  Clearly Emma and Tyson wanted, needed to have a conversation, and she was stopping that from happening.  Just by being in the backseat.  She almost wanted to just tuck and roll out of the car.  Tyson could return her suitcase later.  She really didn’t care at this point.  

When he pulled up outside her condo building, Aberdeen almost didn’t want until he stopped the car and put it in park to click her seatbelt off.  “Hey Aberdeen,” Tyson looked at her through the rear view mirror.  She paused all her movements to stare back at him through the mirror.  “I uh…I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention to Brendan, uh, you know…what you heard…” he trailed off.

Aberdeen stared back at him doe-eyed.  She shook her head slightly.  “I don’t…I don’t tell Brendan about anything I find out about you guys.  I mean I would never…” she said softly, trailing off too.

Tyson nodded, smiling slightly.  “Thanks, Aberdeen.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem.”

When she got out of the car, Tyson popped the trunk so she could get her bag.  After one last thank you, a polite wave, and a push of the button to get it to close, she walked into her condo building.  She nodded towards the security guard before walking towards the elevators.

She wondered if William felt that same way when he played last year.

***

February 20th, 2020

“Get ‘em!” Aberdeen growled as she looked down onto the ice.  “Get ‘em!!!”

Brendan chuckled as he watched Aberdeen, her hands balled up in fists as she practically hung over the box.  He’d never seen her so into a hockey game before, and he didn’t know what had gotten into her.  “You alright, Aberdeen?”

“Get ‘em!”

He got a kick out of it.  Kyle, too, was doing one of those silent chuckles and getting redder by the second.  “Aberdeen, you’re going to blow your heart out.  We’re gonna need to put you on meds,” Brendan commented.  “You gotta remember that you’re staying until the proofs get here.  You can’t waste all your energy now.”

Aberdeen calmed down a bit, but she was still on the edge of her seat.  “Sorry,” she said.  She knew she was maybe taking it a bit overboard, but she couldn’t help it.  After the awful game against the Penguins on Tuesday, the Leafs were dominating them right now.  Freddie was playing phenomenally, Jake Muzzin had just scored to put them up 1-0, and they were getting really good chances.  It’s like the team did a complete 180 from what they were.  She also knew, though, that she needed to stay at the arena later tonight, because the final proofs for the St. Pats jerseys were coming and she was the one who had to sign for them and place them safely and securely in Brendan’s office to see tomorrow.  She didn’t know how long she’d be up tonight, and she’d need to conserve energy.  

“Don’t apologize.  I just don’t want you to have a heart attack,” Brendan smiled. 

With the Leafs on a powerplay, Aberdeen was like a hawk following the puck.  With Tavares, Matthews, and Nylander on the ice, she was praying for a goal.  And then—

“YES!!!!!” she screamed as William scored a beautiful goal, jumping up in her seat and throwing her fist in the air like she was Bender at the end of The Breakfast Club.  From beside her, Brendan and Kyle stayed unnaturally calm.  Aberdeen looked over at them and tried to settle back into her seat calmly.  “Sorry.  Again,” she said, gripping the armrests of her chair.  “But how can you guys be so calm?!”

“You get used to it,” Brendan smiled.

“Well, maybe you do, Mr. Hockey Player,” Aberdeen joked.

“Especially when the camera is on you,” Kyle added.

Aberdeen’s face dropped.  “Oh my God, I’m not on camera, am I?!”

Kyle shook his head, his smile spreading from ear to ear.  “We’ll have to see, Aberdeen, but I don’t think so.”

The Leafs dominated the rest of game.  Kasperi scored another goal only three minutes after William, and Zach scored in the third to make it 4-0.  Freddie got the shutout.  She knew he’d be happy about that, despite his stoic reserve.  As she, Brendan, and Kyle made their way to the locker room, Aberdeen saw the media already speaking to Jake Muzzin.  She knew they’d want to speak with the goal scorers too, and so when she saw William and Kasperi heading to the media room, along with John, Freddie, and Sheldon, she wasn’t surprised.  It was a good game.  Hopefully the media would back down a bit.  

She congratulated the guys and stood on the sidelines as Brendan and Kyle spoke to some of them once the media left.  By that point, some of them were dressed and ready to head home.  “Hey, you want a ride?” Jason offered as he approached her, tightening his tie around his neck.

“Oh, I’m staying back, actually,” Aberdeen informed him.  He looked at her skeptically.  “The final proofs are coming in for your St. Pats jerseys in March and I have to receive them and put them in Brendan’s office under lock and key.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed.  “Well, I can wait with you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Aberdeen, it’s fine.  We can grab a bite to eat afterwards.”

“Jason, I might be here until, like, eleven.”

“So we’ll have an authentic Italian-style dinner then.  All the more reason since I miss my motherland.”

“Jason—”

“Aberdeen, are you really going to say no me?”

She glared at him.  It was like St. John’s all over again.  Before she could open her mouth and say something else, another voice interrupted her.  “Why’re you giving Jason the stink eye?” William asked as he approached them.

“I’m gonna wait with Aberdeen until the proofs come and then we’re gonna grab dinner.  You in?” he asked William, but everybody already knew the answer.

William shrugged his shoulders casually, like Jason hadn’t just invited him to dinner with his own girlfriend.  “I’m in.”

Aberdeen rolled her eyes.  “You two are insufferable.”

“I like to think it’s part of our charm,” Jason smiled.  “Let me call Jen and then we can go trash Brendan’s office.”

*** It was about 10:45 when Aberdeen, Jason, and William ended up at a small bar none of them had ever been to that served small pub-style plates.  It was crowded, for some reason, even though it was a Thursday.  Aberdeen quickly learned, judging by the drink specials, that it was their grand opening weekend, and tonight was their first official night open.  Opening on a Thursday meant pandering to the university crowd for sure (whose pub nights usually took place on Thursdays), but this place was pretty full with an older, gruffier clientele that were seated at the bar and congregated in small groups around the open space in the centre of the room, away from the few booths against the wall.  She wondered if they marketed the place wrongly, or if they just wanted to fill the place so they could say they had a successful opening.  

It was a bit loud, but she, Jason, and William ate their late dinner in relative peace.  They spoke about the game only for a little bit before they moved on to other topics, making it abundantly clear to Aberdeen that they didn’t want to discuss hockey at all.  The food was fine, and so, too, were the beers William and Jason had, but Aberdeen’s Long Island Iced Tea had way too much rum in it so she couldn’t finish.  

By the time they finished, it was almost midnight and Aberdeen was starting to feel her fatigue.  They were told to pay at the bar, so they gathered their jackets.  Aberdeen insisted on paying for her meal, ever going so far as to run up to the bar herself, inching between some patrons in order to pay, before William or Jason could even get out of the booth.  William, however, was right behind her, ready to Jason’s meal on his card.

“H—Hey!  Hey!  Look what we have here!  Y-You’re Wiiiilliam Nylander,” a guy, older and very clearly inebriated, slurred out as he laid his eyes on them.

“That’s me,” William gave a tight-lipped smile, standing just slight behind Aberdeen, waiting his turn to pay.

The drunk guy focused his attention on Jason now.  “You.  Spezza.”

“Yup.”

He turned back towards William, shaking his head.  “Teams like this can’t win the Cup.  Esp-p-ecially not with this guy around.”

That caught Aberdeen’s attention.  She furrowed her brows as the friend of the guy, obviously just as drunk, nodded his head in agreement.  “Don’t have the heart like Dougie or Wendel.  All a bunch of pussies now.  Especially you.”

Aberdeen pulled her card out of the reader dramatically, turning her body so she could face them head on.  “What the hell is your problem?  There’s no need to be rude,” she said, her voice loud and firm.

“Aberdeen, stop it,” William said loud enough for her to hear.

“Y-Y-Yyyyou shoulda just sssigned the contract, man,” the drunk man grumbled out.  

Aberdeen tried again, ignoring William’s plea.  “Sir, this isn’t the time or place,” she intervened, but William’s hands went straight to her waist to move her out of his way so she wasn’t standing in between them anymore.  

Suddenly, it was William closer to the drunk man that Aberdeen.  The drunk guy apparently didn’t like that very much.  “You’re damn – you’re damn selfish!  Ssssselfish and greedyyyy,” the man continued to slur drunkenly.  “Seeeelfish, no good—”

“Sir—” Aberdeen showed up beside William, refusing to stand behind him.

“I oughta hurt you like you hurt the fffranchise.”

Aberdeen’s eyes widened.  That was a threat if she ever heard one, and even though he was drunk, Aberdeen didn’t like the tone of his voice.  “Okay sir,” she chastised.  “You need to stop overreacting.  We’re just here trying to pay for our meal.  This is no time to be a dick.”

“You know what?  Let’s just pay at the other end of the bar,” Jason said, trying to diffuse the situation as much as possible.  He even started to herd William and Aberdeen away from the drunk man and down the opposite end of the bar.  “You have fun with whatever whiskey you’re drinking,” he gave one last look to the man before walking away himself.

“Fuckin’ pussy!” the friend yelled loudly at William, already half way down the bar now.

Aberdeen looked back.  William had grabbed her wrist and was dragging her through the crowd so she’d get to the other side with him.  She watched as one of them slammed his glass down on the bar dramatically.  “Willy—”

“Ignore them, Aberdeen.”

“Yeeeeeah, fuckin’ pussy!  Fuckin’ lowlife!  Worst Leaf on the team!  Shoulda traded you back to Sweden, ya Swedish piece of shit!”

The men continued to yell obscenities and taunt William as they stood at the other end of the bar.  Aberdeen stared at William as he stuck his credit card into the machine, quickly punching in his pin.  “Does that happen often?” Aberdeen asked him.

“Aberdeen, don’t,” he shook his head, refusing to answer her as he pulled his card out of the machine and stuffed it back into his wallet.  It was as if he didn’t want her to know; as if he wanted to protect her from learning just how awful some “fans” could be – at least to him.

“Did you pay?” Jason showed up beside them.  William nodded.  “Alright, then let’s get the hell out of here,” he ordered, herding them again to lead them out.

It all happened so fast that Aberdeen didn’t really know exactly that – what happened.  All she knew was that she heard the guy yell from down the bar.  Then she heard the breaking of glass (commonplace in bars, really) and someone else yell “Put it down!” as she, Jason, and William continued towards the door.  Then another voice screamed “Watch out!” and she, Jason, and William turned their heads to look behind them.

Then it hit her.

Literally.

A glass had been thrown – obviously by one of the drunk men who had been harassing them – intended for William, but it hit Aberdeen right on the forehead instead.  She staggered backwards but didn’t fall.  As she brought her hand up to assess the damage, she could almost immediately feel blood dripping down the side of her eye.  

“Aberdeen!” Jason screamed.

William looked over and saw the blood on Aberdeen’s hand and it dripping down the side of her face.  His eyes filled with anger.  Jason, who was still looking at Aberdeen, saw the look she was giving William.  He whipped his head towards William, who appeared ready to murder everybody in the room.  “Will—William—” Jason tried to get his attention, but to no avail.

“Ohmygodareoyouokaaaaay?!” voices began to ask as they huddled around Aberdeen, William, and Jason worriedly, forming a protective circle around them.  There were so many people, so concerned and so loud asking if she was okay that Aberdeen couldn’t even respond – she was too overwhelmed and too confused to even comprehend what was going on.

That’s when the two men ran out.  When most of the people in the bar were distracted trying to see if Aberdeen was okay, the men had the wherewithal to completely book it out of the bar with nobody stopping them.  It was only William who noticed, screaming out a loud “HEY!” to try and get somebody’s attention to stop them, but nobody moved enough for him to get out of the scrum around Aberdeen to chase him.  William focused his attention back on Aberdeen even though he could feel his cheeks flush red with anger and tears forming in his eyes.  She was still holding the area above her eyebrow cautiously as the bartender waved her over.  Jason and William led her towards the bar, making sure she didn’t step on any of the shattered glass that now littered the floor.  The bartender was already opening the first aid kit.  William heard Jason tell everyone “It’s fine, it’s fine, we don’t need your help, it’s alright, we’ll handle it, we’ll handle it.”

Aberdeen was offered a bar stool to sit on, but she turned it down.  She didn’t want to be on display for everyone to see; she was already embarrassed enough as is.  “You wanna go into a washroom?” the bartender asked, and Aberdeen nodded her head.  He led them to the wheelchair bathroom, since there would be space for all of them, and ushered them in.  “The emergency rooms are just up the street.  They’ll do stitches.”

William glared at the bartender.  “Aren’t you even gonna call a paramedic or something?  What about the cops?” he demanded, his voice shaking from the anger he was still feeling.  “Can we look at security cameras to get a face?”

“Bro, we don’t want cops or paramedics here opening night.  That would kill us,” the bartender said.  William couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  “We don’t have cameras installed yet, either.  Just clean it up and take it to emerge.  It’s, like, two blocks north.”

William felt like punching the bartender square in the jaw.  And he would have, too, for being so insensitive about it, if it wasn’t for Jason opening the first aid box loudly against the counter.  Jason, for his part, glared at the bartender too.  “You can leave now,” he growled, focusing his attention back on finding what he needed within the kit.  “Useless piece of shit,” he mumbled under his breath.

Aberdeen sat on the toilet, trying to collect her thoughts and emotions.  She’d gotten hit with a fucking flying glass in the middle of a bar.  A glass seemingly intended for Willy, thrown by a drunk guy, but it had hit her.  She couldn’t believe what had just happened.  She was sure her hand was covered in blood at this point; she didn’t even want to know what her face looked like.  “Did I get busted open?” she asked, even though she was well aware of the answer.  She needed someone else to confirm it so this all felt real and not like a nightmare.

“Yeah,” Jason said softly.  “Listen, if that dipshit isn’t gonna call the cops or paramedics, I want to clean it before we go to the walk-in.  Your face has a lot of blood on it.”

Aberdeen nodded her head slightly.  There was nothing else she could do, really.  It wasn’t like she was going to reject any medical attention, from Jason or otherwise.  “Is it gonna hurt?” she asked.

“Of course it’ll hurt, but I don’t want any of the blood to crust and dry,” he said. 

“Am I gonna need stitches?  I’ve never gotten stitches before.”

“Move your hand a bit and let me see,” Jason said.  She moved her hand the slightest bit, too scared to move it anymore out of fear that blood would gush out like some Halloween decoration, and Jason looked up close.  “Yeah, probably,” he deadpanned.  William winced at the thought.

“Oh, Jesus.  Is it gonna scar?”

“No.  Not deep enough to scar.  At least not to me,” he said.  She trusted him, if only because he was a father of four and had been around the block a few times.  He cleaned her face as much as he could of the blood that had streamed down.  She watched as he got some alcohol and put it onto a pad, prepped a sterile gauze, and whatever else he needed.    Now, are you ready?” he asked.  

“I guess so,” Aberdeen braced herself.  She took her hand off the injury, relieved that no blood gushed onto Jason’s shirt.  “On three, okay?” she asked.  Jason nodded his head.  She began to count.  “One…two—”

She let out a guttural scream as Jason put the rubbing alcohol on her early so she wouldn’t wince away.  It fucking stung.  The sound that escaped her made Will’s heart drop into the pit of his stomach.  He never wanted to hear it again.  When he looked over, she was writhing on the toilet seat.  Even Jason’s face was pained at her screams, but he was doing what he needed to do.  After doing as much as he could, he took one last look at it before putting the sterile gauze on it, grabbing Aberdeen’s hand to hold it against the cut.  

“You ready to go to emerge?” Jason asked.

Tears had streamed down her face at this point.  She didn’t have a good tolerance for pain.  She nodded her head.  “Let’s go.”

***

It was just past two in the morning before an emergency room doctor saw Aberdeen.  Jason had called Jen to let her know what happened and let her know that he was going to be extra late, and William…well, William was silent.  He was still red with rage as they sat in the emergency room, with Jason and Aberdeen making conversation, but he was silent.  Truthfully, all Aberdeen wanted to do was hug him, hold his hand, and nestle into him, but she couldn’t.  It would have made things a hundred times better, but Jason being there meant that it was impossible.  She noticed William’s silence from the moment they were in the washroom at the awful place and Jason had cleaned the wound.  She was hoping that he wasn’t blaming himself.

“So, Miss Bloom, what happened here?” Dr. Behari asked as she sat on the gurney, Jason and William standing near her with their arms crossed.  

“Some guy at a bar threw a glass and it hit me,” Aberdeen explained simply.  “I think I’m going to need stitches.”

The doctor nodded, then looked towards Jason and William.  “And you’re her bodyguards?” he joked.

Jason smiled, but William didn’t.  “Friends,” Jason said.  “I cleaned it up a bit with rubbing alcohol at the bar, doctor.  I – It was the only thing I could think to do.”

The doctor nodded, stepping closer towards Aberdeen.  “Let me take a look, Miss Bloom, and I can clean it and see if you need stitches.”  Aberdeen took her hand and the gauze off the cut and the doctor put on his gloves.  “Aallllllright…” he mumbled as he checked it, Aberdeen wincing in pain slightly as he pressed down on it.  “You’ve got no residual glass in it, which is great.  All we have to do is clean it up and give you some stitches.”

The thought of stitches made Aberdeen a bit woozy.  She tried not to think about what they’d have to do.  “Is it a deep cut?  Like is it gonna scar?” she asked.

“Not a deep cut at all,” the doctor shook his head.  “I’m only putting it one layer of stitches.  You’ll probably have the slightest scar once it’s all healed but it’s easily covered with makeup, and due to placement, it won’t be too noticeable.”  Suddenly, the curtain that blocked off the room opened, and some supplies and medical equipment were ushered in.  Jason and William looked to see everything that Dr. Behari would need laid out on the tray.  “Ah!  Here we go.  Have you ever received stitches before, Miss Bloom?”

“No sir.”

“Think of it as me putting this beautiful masterpiece of a face back together,” he joked, causing Aberdeen and Jason to laugh.  William still wasn’t laughing, and Jason took notice.  

“You’re great, Doctor Behari,” Aberdeen giggled.  “I’m gonna get a scar like a real hockey player now.”

“Ahhhhh, so you guys are hockey players, huh?” he gestured towards Jason and William.  “I’ve stitched up a bad hockey injury once or twice in my day.”

Dr. Behari continued with what he needed to do, cleaning up the wound and making sure everything was well and prepped for the stitches.  The second he picked up the needle filled with lidocaine though, to numb the area so Aberdeen wouldn’t feel the stitches as much, William became more visibly upset.  For the last two hours he looked like he was about to cry, and now he just looked extremely pained, distressed at the thought of what Aberdeen had to go through.

It took Jason intervening for William to stop thinking over and over about when the glass met Aberdeen’s head; the look in her eyes and the blood on her face as she tried to stop the bleeding with her hand.  “Will, can you breathe for me?” he mumbled, Aberdeen and Dr. Behari too deep in a conversation to hear them.

William started shaking his head.  “He needs to be arrested.  He needs to be charged with assault.  We need to find him,” his voice was still trembling.  

“Will, we’re not gonna find him.  He ran off,” Jason tried to reason with him.  “There aren’t even any cameras we can check – the manager said.  We just have to let it go.”

“No.  That’s not good enough,” William was persistent.  “We need to—”

“Listen to me,” Jason said in a low voice, grabbing William’s forearm and turning him away from Aberdeen and the doctor.  They stood right in between the hallway and the curtain sectioning off the room.  “I understand this is personal for you because it’s Aberdeen, but you need to be level-headed right now, because as much as the doctor is making her laugh, she’s gonna see the stitches and probably get scared.  And she’s going to be looking at you to help calm her down and tell her it will be alright.”

William stopped breathing during the first part of Jason’s sentence.  He furrowed his brows, trying to brush it off, and brush off what Jason was implying.  “I don’t know what you mean about this being personal for me—”

“Will, come on,” Jason interrupted him.  “I’m too old to be fucked with.  We all see the way that you look at her and we know you have the biggest crush imaginable on her.  It’s not like it’s a fucking secret.”

“H—How do I look at her?”

“She’s the only person you ever see, Will,” Jason deadpanned.  “But…beyond that.  You have to remember Brendan’s gonna be asking questions tomorrow at the office.  I’ll handle a majority of that but he’s going to want the story from you too and you better be on your best behaviour or else he’ll figure out your little crush and Aberdeen will be fucked.  Do you understand?”

William couldn’t look Jason in the eye anymore.  He bit down on his bottom lip nervously, knowing that he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.  “I think he already knows…” he mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“I think…Brendan already knows about the crush.  At the Christmas party out on the ice I guess he caught me looking and he told me she can’t do anything with me until she leaves, and more importantly, I can’t do anything with her.”

Jason looked like he’d seen a ghost.  “And?”

“And what?”

“Are you doing anything with her?”

Here it was.  William’s first opportunity to lie outright to a teammate, a friend, a colleague, a guy that he looked up to immensely.  Aberdeen had had to do it with Siena, now he’d have to do it with Jason.  His girlfriend was a mere fifteen feet away and he had to deny that anything was going on.  “What?!  Of course not!” he said angrily.  

“William I swear to fucking God—"

“Nothing is happening,” he stressed.  “Jesus, Jason.  How awful do you think I am?  I wouldn’t do something like that to her.”

“Don’t fuck with me Willy.  She’s got too bright a future for you to—”

“I know that,” William stressed.  “I.  Know.  That.  That’s why nothing has happened.  That’s why it’s stayed a crush.”

“You promise me right here, right now, in the middle of this hospital while she’s getting stitches, that there’s nothing going on between you two, or so help me God, Willy—”

“There’s nothing going on between us,” William said bluntly.  He saw Jason’s face relax slightly, meaning that he was buying it.  “I’ve got my crush and that’s it.  But there’s nothing going on between us.  Nothing.”

“Woohoo!  Boys!” Dr. Behari called out, interrupting their conversation.  “Miss Bloom wants to hold one of your big strong hands just in case she feels anything.  Any takers?”

Jason raised his eyebrows at William and gave him a look.  William gave Jason one last look before walked over, stood next to Aberdeen, and offered his hand.  She grabbed it without hesitation.

Jason watched.

***

February 22nd, 2020

“What in God’s name happened to your eye?” Brendan demanded as he got his first look at Aberdeen Saturday morning.  In the town car, Lou had already commented on it.  Now Brendan got to see it, bright and early in the morning before heading towards the office.

“It’s a long story,” Aberdeen mumbled.

“Well we’ve got a long drive to the office.”

She sighed.  She recounted the events of the previous night to Brendan, from Jason and William agreeing to stay back with her, to them going to dinner, to the rude men, to the bottle throwing.  Brendan looked more and more horrified as time went on, and especially angry when she got to the part with the rude men.  They were essentially targeting one of his players, one of his star players, with assault; instead, that assault ended up hurting his executive assistant.  And when she mentioned the no cameras and the clueless bartender, he got really angry, because there was nothing he could do either.  

“And so, here we are,” Aberdeen finished.  “I’m three days out from my 22nd birthday and one week out from my party and I have a giant scar on my face.”

Brendan could tell by her tone that she wasn’t necessarily upset about it, per se, but that she was more so a bit self-conscious about how it looked.  “It’s not that big,” he said, trying to not make it a big deal.  “The stitches will be out soon anyway.  You don’t want to see some of the scars I’ve gotten.  I mean…” he trailed off, pointing to the one on his top lip and the one on his chin, “yours won’t look as bad as these.  Won’t end up as bad as these either.”

“You don’t think so?”

Brendan shook his head.  “No chance.  It’s only three stitches.  Did you tell your parents?”

“Yeah, we FaceTimed so I could show them.  They don’t want me in bars past sundown now,” she giggled slightly.  “I’m going to have to go to my doctor before we leave for Tampa Bay to see if they can get taken out though.  By then it will have been four days.  The emergency room doctor said it should be okay by then.”

“I’ll call Noah and have him take a look at it once we get to the arena,” he said, referring to Dr. Noah Forman, the team’s head physician.  “I’ll call Jason and Will in, too.  To let me know what happened.”

Aberdeen nodded her head.  It was only logical to talk to them about it to.  William had been the one targeted, after all.  “Are you excited for tonight?” she asked, trying to change the subject.  

Brendan shrugged.  “Last time we faced Carolina it was an…interesting game,” he said.  “How much more interesting can it get?”

***

Aberdeen was absolutely horrified.  Just absolutely fucking horrified at what was transpiring in front of her very eyes.  A complete and utter collapse.  Something that couldn’t be real.  Something she didn’t want to be real.  Something that was affecting her more than she ever thought hockey would.  If Aberdeen thought that Penguins game on Tuesday was bad, this was a hundred times worse.  A thousand.  A million. A billion times worse.

The Leafs were losing to the Hurricanes.  6-3.  And who was in net for the Carolina Hurricanes?  Their emergency backup goalie, who was, somehow, also the Toronto Marlies’ Zamboni driver.  Yes.  The Toronto Maple Leafs were losing to a Zamboni driver.  Their own Zamboni driver.

She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.  

Brendan had already left the box.  He’d asked her not to follow him.  That made her incredibly nervous, because usually when he was upset or disappointed about games, she was still following him like a little puppy.  That wasn’t the case now; he clearly wanted to be alone and alone he would be, wherever he happened to be.  

When the final buzzer rang, Aberdeen felt her heart rate go up even more, because it now meant that she did have to go find him.  She didn’t want to be in the locker room right now.  The team needed to be with their coach, and she didn’t exactly want to hear whatever was going to go down in there.  She wanted to remain willfully ignorant.  So instead, she began walking towards the offices, where a part of her knew Brendan would be.

She was quiet as she walked down the hallway and towards her desk.  She saw Brendan’s door almost closed, and knew he was inside his office.  She gathered her things, grabbed her jacket, and took a deep breath.  

She knocked lightly on his office door.  “Come in,” she heard him say absent-mindedly.  

She pushed the door open slowly.  When she revealed herself in the doorway, Brendan’s eyebrows rose slightly.  He was surprised she’d come and find him.  But he didn’t want her to know that.  Most other personal assistants he’d had usually let him be when he did something like this.  But Aberdeen was different.  “Oh, there you are,” he said, his voice low as he cleared his throat.  There were a few moments of silence as he thought of something to say.  “We need to go over the, uh…the proofs for the St. Pats jerseys,” he held out his hand.

Aberdeen was nervous.  He was a bit too calm for her liking, considering what had just happened.  She knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it exactly, but still.  “Okay.  Um, yeah, sure.  I have it right here,” she said as she began digging through her bag with all the files in it.  There were so many to sort through, and she knew she was taking a while.  

“By all means, move at a glacial pace.  You know how that thrills me,” Brendan said.

She pulled the proofs out of her bag and handed them to him.  He took them, a bit dramatically she thought, and opened them up.  “Okay, so…they’re done.  They can be sent,” he said dismissively, putting his signature at the bottom of every page of proofs.

Aberdeen was shocked, slightly.  There was so much back and forth on them because they had to be perfect and now he’d just signed off on them?  “They…they’re done?  So I don’t need to bring them back to the artist and fetch them back tomorrow?” she began to pull out her iPad so she could change her schedule.  

“Well, if you think the team is worthy of even wearing these jerseys and want to convince me to not just scrap the whole damn idea…then yes, fetch away.  You’re very fetching, so go fetch,” he grumbled out with a resolute emotion of nothingness in his voice.  

Aberdeen stopped her movements.  Okay, so he was affected by what had just happened.  And he was going to let it all out now, in front of her, with no-one else around.  No Kyle.  No Sheldon.  No team.  Nobody but her.  As she continued to stare at him, he couldn’t look her in the eye; he was looking everywhere in his office but her, even though she stood right across his desk from him.  “You’ll need to contact PR, um…Leslie, to see what she can do to minimize the press on all this,” he continued, pursing his lips together, looking out into a void.  “Another humiliating loss splashed across the Toronto Sun.  I can just imagine what they’re going to write about us.  The Toronto Maple Leafs lose to a Zamboni driver who works for them.  The most embarrassing loss yet, and it’s under my watch.  Every newspaper in this city should cut me a check for all the papers I sell for them.”  He shook his head, pausing for a few moments to collect himself, and finally looked at Aberdeen.  “Anyway, I don’t…I don’t really care what anybody writes about me.  But the team.  I just…the team.  It’s just another disappointment…another let down.  Another bad game.  Horrible game.”

Aberdeen didn’t know what to say.  She knew this was Brendan’s version of spilling his guts out to her.  This loss had taken its toll on him – was going to take its toll on everyone in the organization, and he was the guy heading the entire operation.  It all fell on his shoulders.  And Kyle’s.  But he was the overseer of it all.  He put the brunt of the blame on himself – not on the players or the general manager.  “Anyway, the point is…the point is…” he cleared his throat.  Aberdeen could see him visually recollect himself.  “The point is, we really need to get these proofs sent first thing tomorrow morning, because I’d like to see the jerseys before they get sent to the players.”

It was weird to Aberdeen how he could just switch like that – from experiencing the lowest of the low to going back to normal again.  She wondered if it was a hockey thing, because Willy did it too – he would be upset after losses, especially bad ones, but it would quickly become dirt off his shoulder.  She held on to her emotions and feelings much longer than them.  “I’m so sorry, Brendan,” she offered.  She knew there was nothing else she could say to him.  “If you want me to cancel your morning tomorrow, I can.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  Why would we do that?” he asked.

Aberdeen offered a tight-lipped smile.  “Is there anything else I can do?” she asked.

Brendan nodded quickly.  “Your job.”

***

Aberdeen called Siena the moment she was out of the office and walking home.  She’d been okayed to go home by Brendan.  She’d texted Will, but he wasn’t answering, so God knows what was going on in the locker room right now.  She didn’t want to stay at Scotiabank Arena for that very reason.  She just knew it was too much for her to handle.  

She knew it was too much because she was already crying.  Silent tears, but tears nonetheless.  She prayed to God that Siena picked up.

“Hey,” Aberdeen finally heard her voice.  “What’s up?”

“Siena…” Aberdeen’s voice was shaky.  “Siena did you watch the game?”

“No, why?  What’s wrong?”

Aberdeen sniffled.  “I never thought I’d be crying about sports but here I am crying about the Leafs!” she blubbered out.

“Why?  What happened?”

“We just had the most God awful game,” Aberdeen huffed out.  “We lost to our own Zamboni driver.”

There was a pause on Siena’s end.  “Aberdeen, are you drunk?”

“NO!!!” she exclaimed.  “Go check the highlights or whatever.  Go turn on TSN.  It was humiliating.  We’re going to get absolutely roasted.  It’s going to be so bad and—”

“Aberdeen—Aberdeen you need to calm down,” Siena urged on the other end of the phone.  “It’s not your fault, Aberdeen.  And it’s not your problem.  Why are you so upset about it?  It’s not like you’re a part of the team.”

Aberdeen felt a punch to her heart at Siena’s words.  But she was.  Everyone had told her that she was – Brendan, Kyle, the guys, everyone – and she had no reason to think otherwise.  It was hammered into her since the beginning.  For all intents and purposes, she was a member of the team, which is why it hurt her so badly.  Siena didn’t understand that.  Siena didn’t understand how all the traveling together made them closer; how all the guys looked out for her – not in a patronizing way, just…in their own way – like they were her older brothers, especially after what happened at Christmas; how the word family was tossed around so often that Aberdeen really felt that this was a family in its own way, with a bunch of moving parts, often dysfunctional, but a family nonetheless.  Siena didn’t understand any of it.  “Yes I am,” Aberdeen said meekly, offering nothing.  She couldn’t put into words what she’d just thought, and even if she could, Siena, with all her smarts, wouldn’t understand them.  “I am a part of the team.”

“Just sleep on it, alright?  I’m sure everybody is going to forget about it by tomorrow morning,” Siena offered, showing truly just how much she didn’t understand.  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

At that exact moment, a car pulled up on the curb alongside Aberdeen.  When she looked over, she saw William in the driver’s seat.  He was already looking at her.  “Okay, bye,” she ended the call abruptly, stuffing her phone into her coat pocket before approaching and opening the door, slipping into the passenger’s seat easily.

When Aberdeen looked over at William, he immediately noticed her red eyes.  His heart tightened in his chest.  “Why are you crying, minskatt?” he asked.

“How could you not be?” she asked back.

He leaned over the centre console to kiss her.  “Please stop, minskatt.  I can’t stand to see you cry.”

“I don’t know what to feel – what to do – I don’t know what to say to you to make you feel better about this,” she lamented.

“Shhhh shhh shhh,” William kissed her again, bringing his of his hands up to cup her face.  “You don’t need to say anything.”

“Don’t I?”

William shook his head slightly.  “You’re here, aren’t you?” he asked, as if that was enough.  As if that’s all he needed, when really, Aberdeen knew he’d need so much more.  That she would need so much more.  “D’you want to come back to my place?”

Aberdeen looked William in the eye.  He wasn’t asking politely.  He was begging.  She nodded.  “Okay.”

***

Aberdeen was getting scared at how good she was getting at lying.  She’d made up a stupid story about needing to stay late at the arena again for the trade deadline so Kasha would go to bed and not wait up for her.  Kasha bought it.  Aberdeen didn’t even know if she was staying at William’s tonight or if she’d walk into her apartment at three o’clock in the morning again, for the second time in two days.  

(As if William would bring her to his apartment and then tell her to leave in the middle of the night.)

He took her to a tall, glass condo building, only about a ten minute walk from hers but closer to the south core that made him possible to practically walk to all the games if he wanted to.  He held her hand firmly in his once they got out of the car and walked through the parking garage, getting on the elevator.  William pushed the button for one of the top floors.  Of course he’d have a penthouse.  

Aberdeen was still too caught up in her own emotions to realize how big this was – every other encounter had been at her place, and now she was finally seeing his space.  When he opened the door, she was pleasantly surprised at what she was greeted with.  She knew it was rented, and so she half expected it to be kind of dull with no personality, but that wasn’t the case.  There were touches of William everywhere in the apartment – the slight, boyish messiness just adding to it.  Expensive shoes scattered at the entryway.  A few plants that weren’t dead, so she figured they were fake.  A giant, comfy looking couch in the main area with a massive TV that was hooked up to every gaming console known to man.  And pictures.  Lots and lots and lots of pictures everywhere.  All of his family.

She could tell that there was a spare bedroom on one side of the apartment, and she saw a door leading to the master.  William put his keys in the bowl in the middle of the kitchen island, watching her as she looked around his apartment.  “So what do you think?” he asked.

“Do you miss your family on nights like this?  When it’s a really bad game and really embarrassing?” Aberdeen asked, staring at a picture he had of him and him sisters together, holding them all in a giant bear hug as their smiles stretched from ear to ear.

The question caught him completely off guard.  “Of course I do.  I miss them all the time,” he said.

“What do you do on nights like tonight?”

“I sit on my couch and watch TV until I’m not thinking about it anymore,” William admitted.  “Lately I’ve really been meaning to do it with my girlfriend.”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but smile.  Even after a night like tonight, he was still flirting with her.  “Do you have a change of clothes?”

They went into his bedroom – bed messy, but huge; closet overflowing, but orderly; giant floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the other skyscrapers around them – and she changed into a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt that looked Supreme-branded but instead said ‘spaghetti’.  It smelled like him, thoroughly, and the second she put it on she felt like she was being hugged, even though it was about six sizes too big.  They changed together, and when they were done, they made their way back to the living room and William turned on the TV, pulling her towards the big couch.  He made her sit down first before kneeling down between her legs, resting his head on her stomach just beneath her breasts before wrapping his arms around her.  

It was calm.  It was nice.  It was mindless.  William was mindless as he laid there, his arms wrapped around his girlfriend in his clothes, watching TV but not really watching TV.  Aberdeen was mindless as she laid there, running her fingers through William’s hair soothingly, watching TV but not really watching TV.  It was a while before Aberdeen decided to speak again.  “You know, it’s not healthy to not talk about it,” she said.  

She felt William sigh.  “You know I’m not good with words, minskatt.”

“Oh, I think that’s a lie.  You’re great with words,” she said.

“No I’m not.”

“William, every author in the English language wishes they came up with the words, ‘I think about you when I’m not even thinking’, including me,” she countered.

William couldn’t help but smile.  “Those words are only for you,” he said.

“I know,” she said, “but can you please give me some other words so I know that you’re okay?  Because I’m worried.”

The fact that he was making her worried made him compelled to talk.  That was the last thing he wanted.  “I just…I just know that we’re never going to hear the end of it.  And I hate that.  I hate that it’s gonna be the big joke now.  Because hockey isn’t a joke to me.  Neither is the Leafs.”  He paused and Aberdeen was silent, and he knew that silence was urging him to continue.  “It happened because…it happened because they rallied around their goalie.  They protected him.  They had his back.  And we didn’t.  We just…we didn’t.  And I hate it when we do that.  Because I have…I have every guy in that locker room’s back.  I do.  But sometimes it just…” he sighed, shaking his head.  “Sometimes it just doesn’t work out how I want it to.”

Aberdeen had continued to run her fingers through his hair.  She nodded at the end of his speech.  “I’m not going to pretend that I know what it feels like, because I don’t,” she said.  “I haven’t been a fan of hockey and I don’t understand it like you do but I know how much a game like this can affect the group, especially with the media in this city.  But I got emotional about it because I know how much it affects you.  Even if you won’t tell me about it.”

“I don’t mean to not tell you,” William said.  “I just…” he paused again, thinking if he should even say anything.  “It’s that besides my dad and brother, nobody’s ever really…you know, listened.  So I just stopped talking.”

Aberdeen’s heart broke.  At that point, she stopped running her fingers through his hair and forced him to sit up, even though her legs were still wrapped around him, so she could look him in the eye.  She thought about Mike Babcock and what he’d done to Will.  She thought about all the other hockey coaches he had and wondered if they were just as bad.  “Willy…” she said softly, running her thumb along his jawline and lips.  “Willy, I want you to talk to me more.  About hockey.  About your family.  About your feelings.  About everything.  Please.  Please.”

William nodded.  He understood completely what she was asking him to do, and he was going to make a concerted effort to do so, because he loved her.  He loved her so much and he didn’t want to see her worrying about him.  “I will, minskatt.  I will, for you,” he said, kissing her quickly.  He shifted them so she was straddling his body.  “I just have to get used to somebody listening.”

“Willy, I’m always going to listen to you.  Don’t forget that, okay?” she asked, cradling his face in her hands.

He nodded, quickly kissing her again.  The words were coming now, and he couldn’t stop them.  Aberdeen had that power over him.  “What happened the other night at the bar was my fault,” he said.

“What?” Aberdeen’s eyes bulged out of her head dramatically.  “Willy, that was not your fault at all—”

“Yes it was—”

“No it wasn’t—”

“Yes, yes it was,” he said sternly.  “And I couldn’t take it.  I was so mad, minskatt.  I was shaking.  I wasn’t able to stop it or to protect you or—”

“Willy—Willy, stop.  Willy, it wasn’t your fault at all,” she repeated.  “Those stupid guys were drunk.”

“But they were aiming for me.  They hated me.  I wish that glass would’ve hit me instead,” he said, bringing his hand up to her scar and touching it lightly.

“Don’t you dare say something like that.  It was a freak accident, Willy.  There was nothing either of us could do,” she said, hoping he would soon realize it.

William paused for a moment.  “You’d talk to me too, right?  Like you want me to talk to you?” he asked.  Aberdeen nodded her head confidently.  “Were you scared that night?”

Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders.  “Just a little bit.  But you were there.  And Jason.  And when I realized that, I wasn’t so scared anymore.  I’ve been scared before in my life much worse and with less blood.”

William nodded.  “Are you listening?”

“Yes…”

“I love you.”

Aberdeen smiled.  “I love you too.”

They began kissing.  Lightly, at first, and then Aberdeen couldn’t help but stick her tongue down his throat, and William couldn’t help but squeeze at the flesh of her thighs.  As they made out like teenagers on his couch, Aberdeen placed her hands over his and guided them to her ass.  

William giggled slightly into the kiss.  “Aberdeen…” he said in a playfully accusing tone.

“I only want to remember feeling your hands there instead,” she mumbled against his lips.  

William froze.  Suddenly and all at once, her words hit him like shards of glass, cutting him to his very core.  “I’ve been scared before in my life much worse and with less blood.”  Ethan.  She still thought about what happened with Ethan – she still thought about it and it affected her and it made her scared, something she hadn’t admitted to before.  William felt like killing Ethan all over again right then and there, with Aberdeen sitting on his lap.  What affected her wasn’t a physical wound; what affected her was something much deeper.

“Listen to me,” he said, his hand cradling her chin, thumb gliding over her lips softly as she’d done to him earlier.  “Nobody is going to do that to you again, okay?  Not while I’m here.”  

Aberdeen nodded her head.  She believed him completely.

“I mean it, Aberdeen,” he pressed.

“I know.”

“If I ever saw him on the street, I’d fucking kill him for what he did to you.  For how he made you feel.  And I want you to know that, like…you’re not what happened to you.  You’re so much more.  He was a pig who couldn’t see that but I can,” William said.

Aberdeen almost burst out into tears at his words.  You’re not what happened to you.  You’re so much more.  She could have cried right then and there.  But instead, she nodded her head before kissing William again, even more eager this time, wanting to show him just how much she appreciated him, just how much she believed him, just how much she loved him.

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LSAT prep, DJ sets and virtual golf

4:30 PM IST

Ohm Youngmisuk

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ESPN Staff Writer

Ohm Youngmisuk has covered the Giants, Jets and the NFL since 2006. Prior to that, he covered the Nets, Knicks and the NBA for nearly a decade. He joined ESPNNewYork.com after working at the New York Daily News for almost 12 years and is a graduate of Michigan State University. Follow him on Twitter »  Ohm’s chat archive »

Malika Andrews

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Joined ESPN in 2018

Appears regularly on ESPN Chicago 1000

ON APRIL 18, instead of concocting a game plan to possibly defend Giannis Antetokounmpo on the opening day of the NBA playoffs, Garrett Temple was locked in on antithesis passages in his online LSAT prep course.

With the 2019-20 NBA season on hold since March 11 due to the coronavirus, the Brooklyn Nets wing has been putting in the hours studying, listening to law podcasts and talking to professors as part of his weekly preparation for the Law School Admission Test.

While some players have tried to fill the basketball void with video games or training routines, others have taken on new challenges to stay sharp. From mastering a second language to becoming handy around the house to diving into a Lego world, players are finding ways to stay engaged.

And one might even be law school-bound, with sights on a perfect 180 LSAT score.

“I can’t let — what’s-her-name on ‘Legally Blonde’ got a 179 — Elle Woods [beat me],” Temple said. “I really want to do it and get a great score.”

MORE: When will the NBA return? Latest suspension updates

Garrett Temple has been spending his time away from basketball with LSAT prep. “It’s providing structure. I’m really enjoying it,” he said. Courtesy of Garrett Temple

BEFORE THE SUSPENSION, Temple had long been contemplating life after basketball. The 10-year journeyman graduated from LSU in 2009 with an undergraduate business degree and considered getting his MBA. His father, Collis Temple, told him that a law degree would be more beneficial.

Collis is an entrepreneur in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and was the first black varsity basketball player at LSU after Temple’s grandfather, Collis Temple Sr., was not allowed to attend graduate school at LSU because of his skin color.

Temple’s interest in pursuing a law degree was further piqued after watching a TED talk by Adam Foss, a former assistant district attorney in Boston and advocate for criminal justice reform. The final push came when Temple met Bryan Stevenson, the nationally acclaimed public interest lawyer and social justice activist depicted in the 2019 film “Just Mercy.”

“I think you can create a lot of change in your own community,” Temple said. “Help change the prison industrial complex and school-to-prison pipeline in my community, the black community.”

Temple has immersed himself in science podcasts and magazines with help from his fiancée, Kára McCullough, a scientist with a concentration in radiochemistry.

She has also often forced Temple to take breaks from hours of studying. The veteran guard just can’t help himself.

“It’s providing structure. I’m really enjoying it,” Temple said.

“I mean, we ain’t got nothing else to do. So I’m studying, man. Just trying to better myself.”

CODY ZELLER KNEW next to nothing about carpentry before the season went on hiatus. But a month and a half in, the Charlotte Hornets center can now build a closet befitting a 7-footer. (It’s a skill that has been quicker to learn than playing the guitar, which others such as Antetokounmpo and Patty Mills have also picked up.)

Zeller’s brother Tyler, a free agent who most recently played with the Memphis Grizzlies in 2019, purchased a home in Indiana, and Cody has been helping with do-it-yourself home improvement projects.

“I took responsibility for [Tyler’s] master closet,” Zeller said. “I had no woodworking ability before. I’ve learned how to use a miter saw, a table saw. We put it together.”

“Everybody and their mother is gonna have a podcast when we are done with this quarantine.”

Georges Niang

Lack of experience? That was nothing a few YouTube tutorials couldn’t solve — almost.

“I will say, full disclosure, I had to [build] it twice,” Zeller said, “because the first time I messed up.”

Zeller cut, sanded and painted all the wood and built a seven-tier shelf rack. But when he went to fasten the frame to the wall, he had forgotten one tiny yet crucial detail.

“I realized I hadn’t accounted for the space between the closet rod and the shelf above it, so there was no room for the hangers to hang on the closet,” Zeller said. “So it was back to the drawing board.

“That was like three days’ worth of work down the drain. Anyway, long story short, it looks great now.”

THIS EXTRA DOWNTIME has given John Collins the chance to master a second language and get more in touch with his family heritage. Collins, whose mother is part Puerto Rican, has been taking Spanish lessons via Rosetta Stone and the Duolingo app.

The Atlanta Hawks big man took Spanish classes in high school in West Palm Beach, Florida, before continuing courses during his two years at Wake Forest.

“I never had a chance to finish — obviously I left school early,” Collins said. “But it’s always been something that I’ve wanted to finish just ’cause I have been around it so much, and I want to learn.”

Monday through Friday, host Mina Kimes brings you an inside look at the most interesting stories at ESPN, as told by the top reporters and insiders on the planet. Listen

Although he could grasp what his grandfather and other relatives were saying during conversations, Collins found writing in Spanish to be difficult. After the first few weeks of quarantine, Collins wasn’t sure how much his Spanish was improving.

“I’m better than where I was,” Collins said. “To get real growth, I got to go over to a Spanish-speaking country.

“Hopefully one day I will get the opportunity.”

USED TO MAINTAINING a strict in-season schedule, Utah Jazz forward Georges Niang found the extra free time jarring.

The team dropped off a stationary bike and weights so he could keep up with daily exercises, but video games have grown boring, Netflix has provided only so many hours of entertainment, and sleeping in has lost its appeal.

So he started the “Drive & Dish” podcast and video series with help from the Jazz.

“Everybody and their mother is gonna have a podcast when we are done with this quarantine,” he said.

After an unsuccessful foray into Instagram Live — “It was horrible content,” Niang said — “Drive & Dish” debuted on March 31 and has delved into quarantine life with Jazz All-Star Donovan Mitchell, the Olympics postponement with two-time soccer gold medalist Amy Rodriguez and the Michael Jordan Game 6 winner with former Jazz player Bryon Russell.

Niang even has his own theme song and logo.

#DriveAndDish Episode 𝟐 is LIVE!

@GeorgesNiang20 interviews @spidadmitchell about that night in OKC, what he wishes he’d known as a kid & his strangest superstitions

#NBATogether 𝘍𝘜𝘓𝘓 𝘝𝘐𝘋𝘌𝘖 » https://t.co/7uQk59B8Po pic.twitter.com/MCY4rAUsaj

— utahjazz (@utahjazz) April 3, 2020

The podcast’s name is inspired by his team nickname. In the Jazz locker room, Niang is known as “the minivan” because he likens his teammates to Ferraris while thinking of himself as a less luxurious vehicle.

“I need a couple laps around the block before I get warmed up,” Niang said. “Hop in the minivan and drive and dish.”

KENT BAZEMORE HAS been teeing it up at some of the best golf courses in the country. Virtually, that is.

The Sacramento Kings swingman has been regularly retreating to the basement of his Atlanta home, honing his skills on a golf simulator that would rival Tiger Woods’ personal setup. Video cameras and sensors track Bazemore’s every hook, slice, chip and putt.

“It is about as in-depth as I can get without being a professional golfer,” said Bazemore, who earlier this month took down former teammate Stephen Curry in a virtual match at Pebble Beach.

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Now the lefty has a chance to get serious about his golf game. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, Bazemore takes virtual golf lessons with his instructor, Jon Tattersall, the 2014 Georgia PGA Teacher of the Year.

And Bazemore still drives to a real golf course once a week — Georgia is one of a handful of states allowing courses to stay open.

“I am on a quest to become a scratch golfer,” Bazemore said. “My handicap right now is at 8 and I need it to be down to 0.”

To get over the next hump, Bazemore said he plans on working with a sports psychologist.

“There’s a lot of things that go into becoming [a scratch golfer],” Bazemore said. “I’m on the fringe. This is the closest I’ve ever been.”

THOUSANDS HAVE FLOCKED to social media over the past month to listen to DJs such as D-Nice spin sets on Instagram Live.

Now Andre Drummond has joined the wave.

On April 20, the Cleveland Cavaliers center kicked off “Drummond Quarantine Radio,” which features Drummond with DJ Drewski from the center’s Miami home.

Last week, Drummond hosted a “ladies night” set, when viewers could make song requests. And he put on “Talent Show Thursday,” which featured an appearance by actor and comedian Michael Rapaport, among other special guests.

Andre Drummond, also known as DRUMMXND, has been busy on Instagram Live during the NBA’s suspension. David Liam Kyle/NBAE via Getty Images

Drummond’s no novice. He goes by the rap name “DRUMMXND” and is planning on releasing his second album, “FYI 2,” soon.

He won’t be the only NBA player releasing new music during quarantine. Orlando Magic forward Aaron Gordon dropped his Dwyane Wade- and dunk contest loss-inspired diss track “9 out of 10” on Monday.

On Tuesday, Gordon made a guest appearance on the seventh episode of “Drummond Quarantine Radio.” Drummond pointed out that for as long as they’ve known each other, he never knew of Gordon’s desire to put out rap songs.

“I mean, we got a lot of time on our hands right now, ya hear me?” said Gordon, who started making music before this season and is working with Grammy Award winner Austin Owens, also known as Ayo The Producer.

“I get to tap into my creative side,” Gordon added. “Get in touch with emotions and express myself.”

Gordon then gave DRUMMXND his next quarantine endeavor — to deliver some new rap hooks.

“We putting together a project, [with] athletes, with Ayo,” Gordon said. “We need you on the project.

“We need a couple of verses for the project. Please.”

LOCAL GYMS SHUT down after Dallas County issued a shelter-in-place order on March 23, but Myles Turner had to find a way to get in weight training while staying in the guest house of the Texas home he built for his parents.

So the Indiana Pacers center jumped online to find the nearest squat rack — more than 100 miles away in Waco.

“In Texas, that’s nothing,” said Turner, who embarked on the four-hour round trip along Interstate 35. “That’s just an easy drive, right down the street.”

Turner then built the multipurpose squat rack and bench press in under two hours with help from friends. It’s now the centerpiece of a once near-empty garage he’s converted into his personal gym, complete with medicine balls, adjustable dumbbells and a padded floor.

“I gotta improvise,” said Turner, who last week shared his passion for yoga via a live class on the NBA’s Instagram page. “I’ve always kind of been into just putting stuff together.”

And when he didn’t have a screwdriver or wrench in his hand, Turner was still busy building. He assembled one Lego set, and his latest creation — a 2,000-piece Star Wars jigsaw puzzle — was completed in about a week.

“I am about to go to Target right now,” he said, “and get a basketball hoop for outside.”

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Tags: Andre Drummond, Cody Zeller, daily, DJ, Garrett Temple, Georges Niang, Golf, John Collins, Kent Bazemore, LSAT, Myles Turner, NBA, Prep, Sets, virtual

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Home Surgery

House renovations not only feel like a bomb went off in your home but a bomb went off in your head too. It’s like the Hunger Games in a relationship. Good luck, may the strongest couple win… 

Hello fam,

long time no talk (unless you’ve been following along on the ol’insta stories).
Even then, I haven’t been keeping up as often as I used to (Sorry bout it?). So let me bring you up to date on everything and all that is Veronica & her shenanigans…

We moved into our home last April which is now, 7 months ago! We’re still knee deep in renovations. Surprised? I’m not! Who am I kidding…yes I am… I mean I was hoping we would’ve been done by now (epic wishful thinking on my part). Things have moved slowly since April.

It’s to be expected I suppose, I hadn’t really spent any consecutive time at home before June. Once I got back, I was exhausted and didn’t feel like taking on any huge projects. I’d worked full time on set for over 10 months followed by months on end of travelling. I was craving some stand-still time. I wanted to enjoy my summer and not be a slave to home renovations. In lieu of my laziness we chipped away at projects only on weekends. At first, my boyfriend was the one trying to kick me in the ass to buckle down and get the work done. Fast forward 4 months later – here I am, getting impatient so I’m doing the kicking of the ass…

Going into this, I kept saying that I’d be fine gutting a place to its bones – that I’d done this kind of thing before and the mess didn’t scare me. Which is fact, but what I’d ignored was my need to have a home – a sanctuary – a safe haven. I didn’t realize a gutted house meant a gutted sanctuary. Going into this, I also kept saying ; I need a place to call home. So I’m not sure what I was expecting… maybe I expected things to magically get done on their own, or somehow still have a livable space in the midst of dust and chaos?! How could I’ve missed this? I am not sure…

Everything happened so fast, we’d been casually house hunting for a few months when we discovered what would be our future home. We didn’t think too much of it until the idea of owning it slowly crept in. In fact, at first the house gave me a weird vibe. Something didn’t flow but I was determined to find out what… We agreed to go for a second viewing, at this point we were already talking about our demolition plans. Next thing you know; we put in an offer, we negotiated and closed — It’s ours!

We knew right away we wanted to update the two upstairs bathrooms (they haven’t been touched since the 70′s). Painting was a non-negotiable. We also played with the idea of blowing out the entrance wall to open the space up. Also, the mudroom slash laundry room could use a face-lift. The master bedroom lacked closet space and bathroom space. Needless to say, we had to get creative with the designs to maximize every inch of this place and I’d be lying if I said we had it all figured out. You get the point; the list of projects is never ending.

We tackled the main living areas first. While I was away my boyfriend started by removing the popcorn ceiling in the main living room. This was our first setback. It took weeks to properly remove it all, then, weeks to properly sand & paint. Soon after we decided to demolish the entrance wall (best decision ever). Later we painted the whole main floor… Never underestimate how much painting can do to a space – also, never underestimate how long painting with a roller can take…

Now that we were knee deep in our reno’s, we decided to make our lives even harder by redoing the floors in all main living spaces; main living room, kitchen and TV room. 

The current floor is acacia hardwood flooring. A color that is now outdated, with plank sizes that are also outdated. The lower TV room is covered in a light beige carpet but also has a backyard access. Oh & the hardwood? Scratched to shit. There isn’t one ounce of flooring that isn’t damaged. So here were my thoughts; Why have carpet in a room where you’d be accessing the outside from? If our floors are already damaged & outdated how would that affect us in the long run, for resale value? So first, I tried to match the TV room floor to the acacia wood… Once we started digging to find a matching floor we quickly realized we were most likely never going to be able to match it. Like a salesman once told me “you’re chasing a leprechaun”. Cool cool cool cool…So cool. It would never be a perfect match, in other words — it would be noticeably different. Uh, No. I’m not okay with that. There’s nothing more frustrating and disorienting than walking into a home that lacks cohesiveness. We toyed with the idea of sanding and restaining, until we found out it would cost more than replacing the whole floor.

Thanks to my Design firm, I’ve got access to flooring I otherwise wouldn’t have found on my own. I was suggested an alternative type of flooring that is in theory a Vinyl plank, but in reality, is its own type called SPC flooring (stone plastic composite). It looks and feels like wood. It has no expansion or contraction since its made of stone & plastic. It’s waterproof and highly scratch resistant. This sounds like the perfect floor for a home that would resell to a young family with tons of kids and dogs that may ruin a beautiful hardwood. Want proof? come over and look at ours.

The tricky thing about this flooring is that the planks are quite thin. It offers little to no flexibility, so your subfloor needs to be leveled near perfect to prevent any cracking… In a high-rise or newer house this is easier to accomplish. In a 70′s home where the foundation can and most probably is uneven, not so much. Our challenge was to find the right installer who knew this floor, who’s worked with it before and who understands the leveling specs. We interviewed 3 or 4 installers, one of which was convinced he could not only match our existing floor (ya! right!) but could also sand and restain it a different color. Which fyi, I’d been repeatedly told would be close to impossible to do with acacia…?!… A risk I wasn’t necessarily willing to take. Especially if it’d cost more than installing a brand new – scratch resistant – waterproof flooring! The other installers came in really confident about having worked with the floor before until I started asking questions… Slowly they started hesitating & pulled back from wanting to level our floor. I lost interest in hiring them 1- I couldn’t understand the words that were coming out of their mouths and 2- if there was any chance that they were talking themselves up only to make a quick buck, when in reality they know jack squat about this floor & risk damaging it – That’s gonna be a hard no from me… At this point I was losing interest in the whole ordeal. Let’s keep our damaged floors and move on! Losing hope over here! Just let me buy a couch already!

Let’s back up for a second… All the while this is happening, keep in mind, our house is not furnished. Decorations (the ones we have) are put away. Walls are bare, clothes aren’t put away. It’s a total dissaray. Well maybe dissaray isn’t the right word, but it’s a tiny shit show & it’s getting old.

We couldn’t do anything else until the floor situation was dealt with. Finishing the second coat of paint is now on hold, since installing the floors might damage the walls, we might have to repaint everything anyway. You wouldn’t catch me repainting 1200 sq ft with rollers A THIRD TIME! No way Jose.

Since everything else was on hold. I wanted to start the master bedroom project right away instead of waiting until spring like we’d originally planned. Let’s at least get one room over with, my gosh! So we decided to take the closet project head on and not look back. Our plan was to finish it the weekend we started. Wrong! say hello to our second setback. We are now 3 weeks later and we’re still working on the bedroom. Don’t get me wrong, we got 75% done on that weekend, but we encountered technical difficulties that have lingered since then, including the purge of my closet and organizing it all… this is a project in itself. One that may or may not take just as long as painting a whole house by hand…

The room is essentially done, I’m hoping we can officially wipe our hands clean from the renovations of this bedroom by this weekend and get started on the decorations! 

They say you find what you’re looking for when you stop looking — once we stopped looking for floor installers, we finally got a hold of the supplier who’d recommended someone they’d worked with before. Hallelujah! He was easy to communicate with & he agreed to come over that weekend to give us an estimate. I tried not to get my hopes up, for all I knew we may have invited an overrated installer into our house just to tease ourselves…

Once we met, it was clear we all got along great. He’s clearly worked with the floor before and I knew this because he answered questions I didn’t even get a chance to ask. He knew the specs and explained the process without being dodgy. That’s our guy, I don’t care how much he costs hire the guy! We all know my boyfriend put a stop to that real quick — we stick to the budget, he said. So here I was, crossing my fingers to death. He sent us his estimate the next day and it was within our budget!

YUUSSSSS!!! We finally found our guy, This is so exciting! We have a bit of prep work to do before they come to install, but for the first time in months it feels like the work we’re doing is going somewhere! Floors will be installed by the first week of December!

The best news of all; phase 1 is almost complete! That’s right, we decided to do our renovations in phases. Because we need a break y’all! We will hibernate through winter and get back to it in spring…We will focus on the fun stuff over the winter, like beautifying our home. The rest of the renovations like the mudroom and bathrooms can thankfully be quarantined so we don’t have to look or live in a hot mess for months on end! Home stretch folks! One more month and we can relax for a while.

We have a few fun trips planned over the holidays. We booked a mini getaway in a cabin on Galiano Island, at Bodega Cove, at the end of December (board games for days!). Saying we’re excited is an understatement. We will be hosting a House warming holiday cocktail party right before new years, then, we will head to Victoria to ring in the new year in style! We’ve got a good few months ahead & I’m damn well looking forward to it!

We shed blood, sweat & tears over the last 7 months. I’m not lying when I say it’s been a process, (now that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel) I can finally start to appreciate the journey! 

I’ll keep you posted on all the progress, dontcha worry!

Notes to remember from a fellow renovator to you:

* If you’re doing major renovations or are thinking of renovating - try to do it before you move in. Renovations are stressful enough as it is, there’s no need to add stress by living in the mess. So if you can avoid it, I recommend it.

* Renovating can and most probably will stress you out – healthy lifestyle habits like eating properly, exercising and proper sleep patterns will do wonders. Don’t give up on yourself.

* Try to remember that it’s temporary and keep in mind things will get worse before they get better (yes you read that right... It’s something I somehow didn’t realize). It’s only part of the process. Keep your eye on the prize! If you’re having trouble visualizing it with the walls gutted, create a vision board and put it up in a space where you can see it clearly and daily.

* If things get too intense, walk away from it and go do something that will reward you emotionally. Self-Care is knowing when to walk away. 

* When taking on a renovation project as a couple, it’s an added pressure to the relationship. Relationships are already a lot of work as it is; worrying about work - day to day responsibilities - and having to take care of your family life (if you have kids). Adding renovations to the mix can make you feel overwhelmed. Your schedules will be overflowing with To Do lists – but remember that romance also needs to be a priority. Date nights & relationship time needs to be allocated. Set aside some time to focus on watering the relationship. You���ll need it. Don’t let the To Do lists come between you two. The lists will always be there, time together is precious.

* most of all – try and have fun! (taking my own advice on this one!)

Until then Ctrl+Shift+ ESCAPE but Stay tuned for a closet reveal :)