#nhl jersey swap

[unch4rted-territ0ry]

I did another thing

I love them :D

[puckarchives]

definitely a surpise: l. hughes

blurb: in which you and luke introduce the daughter the world never even knew you had to the nhl. / word count: 1.3k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

To be fair, the decision had been made way before the two of you had even considered the possibility of being (or even trying to become) pregnant; instead, it was a comment that had sparked a long winded conversation on the dock of the Hughes Family lake house in New Hampshire, and that had you and Luke coming to a final consensus: if you were to have children together, mini-Lukes and mini-Y/Ns, the child wouldn’t be introduced into the world of the National Hockey League until they were a year old.

Now, while the decision might have sounded easy and obvious, it wasn’t until a few months later after our wedding that we had found out we were pregnant, and preparation for Hughes Baby Number 1 was quite the spectacle— one that usually involved Luke finding you in the stands of the Prudential Center, covered head to toe in clothing that hid your baby bump— right until it became a bit too obvious to his teammates, and it was decided that instead, your would spend your time watching the game either from the Center’s family suite, or from the comfort of your own shared home. Naturally, the latter won out almost instantaneously.

Despite the onslaught of media harassment that Luke and you had received in the aftermath of your absence from his games— comments from fans who mentioned that I wasn’t being supportive enough or even a good partner to him, the pregnant went as good as we had hoped— and, a few months later, Marnie Wren Hughes was born— a name that was a mix of both of our mother’s names, and whose middle name was a play on Luke’s own middle name, swapping out “Warren” for a simplified version of “Wren.”

Marnie was an angel child, truly. Sure, she was attached to the hip with Luke because of how much he had to travel for games and roadies, but she was a Momma’s Girl at heart— constantly around you, and always around in her stroller, or toddling around your office at the university.

As your baby’s first birthday came along, however, Luke and you once again found yourselves in a bit of a predicament. Just like her uncle, Marnie had a May birthday— putting it right smack in the middle of playoff season for the Devils, and leaving the two of you to think about what you could do with that. Would it be time to introduce the baby you two had and watched grow for over a year to the world? Hell, not even half of Luke’s team even knew about Marnie, despite the fact that Luke had been playing with the team for over five years now.

Despite this, we knew it was time; since it was her birthday, both your parents and Luke’s would be in Jersey visiting for her birthday party, and with the Canucks having lost in the second round of their own playoff games, Quinn would be taking a flight out to join the Y/L/N-Hughes family for the party as well, so it truly gave you the best opportunity to take Marnie out, surrounded by her family, to her first Devils game— and, for all intents and purposes, introduce her to the world her father thrived in.

When the day came, however, you readied the newly one-year-old in a tiny version of Luke’s jersey, with the “43” taking up the majority of her back. She looked, in so many ways, (but especially clad in the classic red and black colors,) like her dad; like the man who had given you the opportunity to be a mom to such an angel baby, and experience things like this in the first place.

As the game began and team warmups commenced, you saw Luke look around the stadium quickly, easily finding you and the child in your arms waving at him alongside his own family. Signaling to Jack to join him, the two skated over to where you stood— sporting the same jersey Marnie did, and the ring on your hand to prove it.

As Luke got near, Marnie, excited to see her dad, yelled in her baby voice, “Daddy!” leaving both you and Luke, who had stopped mid-skate, a bit dumbfounded. Sure she was a year-old already, but talking in full words? Especially since she had only ever called you “Mama” and Luke “Dada” before?

Seemingly pulled out of his stupor by the wiggling child in your arms, Marnie stretched her arms out toward Luke, now catching the attention of other players and audience members around you— all of which must have been wondering why this child was calling Luke “Daddy,” and where she had even come from to begin with.

Peeling off his gloves, Luke grabbed her into his arms as both Nico and Mercer came skating over, the latter obviously trying to find out who the child was. Even the jumbo screen, which usually held on to Kiss Cams and commercials, was pointed at the scene of Luke carrying Marnie in his arms, now peppering her tiny face in kisses as she babbled and yelled “Papa” over and over at him.

Pulling away from the two, you got out your phone to take a picture of the sight— the love of your life carrying the other love of your life, all while they both experienced something entirely new; Luke having his daughter at a game, and Marnie, experiencing the cheers of the game her dad gave his all to.

After the game though, as the Devils swept the Rangers 9-2 with three points from Luke and two assists from both Haula and Jack, you counted the amount of times that one or more Devils had skated to your piece of glass and waved at Marnie, catching the baby’s attention as they pseudo-met the youngest Hughes child for the first time. From Marino to Schmid, one by one the Devils found themselves cooing at the baby from across the glass— all star struck in a way at the child who had called their defenseman “Daddy,” but all enamored by her curls and Y/E/C eyes that were clearly traits she inherited from both you and Luke alike.

After, however, you were both ushered into the locker room, automatically surrounded by baby-fever induced coos from Luke’s teammates as Marnie was swept out of your arms— first by Jack, and then by Nico, and then finally finding herself back in Luke’s arms as each member shared their surprise that, one— Luke had a literal child, and two, that you both had kept it under wraps for so long.

“Well, it was a decision we both made before Marnie was even a thought,” you told Bastian, who was playing peek-a-boo with the squirming toddler, and who had asked how he hadn't known of her before tonight.

“We kind of wanted it to be a surprise, and then we just didn’t want her to only ever remember the bad parts about hockey, you know? But big day for the Hughes family now,” Luke added. “Big day, sweetheart,” he told Marnie, bouncing her up and down with one arm while she played with his fingers of his opposite hand.

“Well, except me,” Jack interjected. “Now I can finally show you guys the pictures of MarnieBear when she was a baby! God— you should see how much Lukey cried when she was born,” he said, leading off to join Nico and Lazar as he whipped out his phone, most likely pulling out the one photo he took of Luke with a newborn Marnie, tears of happiness streaming down his face as he held his little girl in his arms— her in one, and you in the other.

“Well, that was definitely a surprise,” I told him, putting your arm around his waist. The defenseman only looked down at me, smiling at both me and our daughter— yeah, it was definitely the right decision.

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

secret double life

sidney crosby x f!actress!reader

fc: dianna agron

liked by vogue, kaitlyndever and 764,982 others

ynofficial: i apologise on behalf of makeup artists across the world. i have failed you and learnt nothing since i was 17, and for that i am deeply sorry. anyway, this has been a dream come true of mine - thank you for the opportunity vogue! (i apologise for the lateness, but the video is up on YT rn!)

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user12: you can do no wrong in my eyes, even if the foundation was the wrong shade

user13: she fr worked with it and said 'trust the process'

user14: i can feel the mascara wand in my eye

user15: HER RINGS FUCK WHAT IF THAT TWITTER THREAD WAS RIGHT

user16: the twitter thread was right what are you talking about??????

user17: was it all common knowledge or something?

user18: forgetting they're married is like never remembering that ryan reynolds was married to scarlett johansson

user19: was it just me or did anyone else hear a child laugh in the background?

user20: ME!!!!

user21: babe you're looking so good

user22: thank you for feeding us with this content

liked by user23 and 14,914 others

gossip: after the news has begun recirculating, pittsburgh penguins legend, sidney crosby, has been seen attending a charity gala with his wife, actress y/n l/n. it is unknown as to how long the couple have been married, but rumours suggest 10+ years.

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user24: WHAT!!!!! THEY BOTH LOOK SO GOOD!!!!

user25: idk which one i want to bite first

user26: i'm praying for confirmation 🙏🙏

user27: it has only just occurred to me that people don't know about these two and it upsets me sm 😭

user28: parents

user29: they actually might be though

user30: I'VE BEEN THINKING THIS!!

liked by user31 and 20,008 others

unofficialnhlnews: a reporter asked crosby if he had any family in the stands for today's 1000th game for the pens, he said yes and when asked (for the first time, nearly ever), who, he replied with "well, i flew out some of my family from home, but my wife's watching today."

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user32: CONFIRMATION WTF

user33: he was so open with it what

user34: BRO STARTED BLUSHING

user35: i don't think i've ever seen crosby smile like that

user36: if this is true, i'm thinking about the baby laugh in the background of her vogue grwm

user37: tbh if they've been together for that long they literally could have a kid fr

liked by annabellewallis, monicabarbaro and 791,372 others

ynofficial: apparently i lead a secret double life?

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user38: IS THAT CHILD YOURS? IS IT SIDNEY CROSBY'S KID?

user39: it'd be so funny if it is hers and sid's with the ovi jersey

user40: the armpit scribbler is definitely sid

ynofficial: he's one of the three 👍

user41: does that count as a hard launch??????????

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liked by nhl, aleksandrovechkinofficial and 962,822 others

ynofficial: sid by me ❤ it's been an honour to experience life with you so far - i really fucking love you.

to the rest of you: i give you sid, and introduce you to mason and india!

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user45: *sharp inhale* AAAAAAAAAAAA

user46: he was so baby 😭

user47: SIDNEY CROSBY IS A DILF ⚠️ I REPEAT SIDNEY CROSBY IS A DILF ⚠️

user46: the baby in the #87 jersey i'm sobbing

user47: we said confirm pls and y/n and sid heard change lives

user48: oh 😭 my 😭 god 😭

user49: india and mason are so fucking cute

user50: the first picture is breaking hearts

user51: what about that kid that was wearing the ovi jersey?

ynofficial: mini ovi and mini crosby swapped jerseys after the all star game this year!! both dads cried

liked by alexachung, kaitlyndever and 918,926 others

ynofficial: y/n by me (sid) ❤ i really fucking love you, too

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user52: simple but romantic

user53: i'm crying

user54: THE ONES WHEN HE'S CUDDLING HER AHKSJGF

user55: the wedding photo lmao

user56: baby and bump

user57: i'm definitely dying alone

liked by user58 and 19 others

ynofficial: 😋

this post has been deleted

[soul-controller]

I'm thinking of dressing up as a hockey player this year...

Ooh, that’s an interesting choice for a Halloween costume! Given the fact that I’m not too well-versed in the hockey realm, I’m certainly willing to help you get the perfect uniform.

While you were busy sleeping after sending in that ask, I was hard at work doing some intense research about the hunkiest players in the NHL. Although there were certainly countless hunks that I could turn you into like Tyler Seguin, I found myself intensely drawn to the Washington Capitals player Tom Wilson. I mean, can you truly blame me when he is the literal embodiment of a tall, dark, and handsome man! With that gorgeous, bearded face of his along with that 6’4” stature, I feel like that’s the perfect body for anyone, but especially a hockey fan like you! 

Upon waking up the next morning and seeing a message from me saying that your costume wish had been granted, you excitedly ran towards your front door. Unfortunately, the package hadn’t arrived yet, so your original hype was destroyed for the next few hours as you were forced to get ready and head out to do your assorted tasks of work or potential school courses. By the time you finally returned home later in the evening though, you were relieved to walk up to your doorstep and find my package waiting for you.

Smiling as you picked up the package before unlocking your door and heading inside, you wasted no time tearing it open as you headed back into your place. For years, you had loved hockey and always dreamed of playing it, but your lack of coordination on ice skates completely obliterated that possibility. As such, the concept of dressing up as a hunky player was the best you could do to live out that fantasy… until now.

After cutting open the box and pulling out a replica jersey, you immediately took off your shirt and began to put on the jersey instead. Although you were certainly appreciative of getting the costume from me, there was a fleeting moment of shame that you felt as you took a look in the mirror and stared at how ill-fitting the jersey looked on you. You weren’t athletic in the slightest, which was a big reason why the jersey was a bit snug around your midsection while baggy everywhere else due to the lack of any real physical activity. 

However, as you continued to stare into the mirror at your reflection, a bizarre glitching suddenly emerged in the mirror as flashes of a crowded arena emerged in front of you. On top of this, there were brief bits of ear-numbing cheering that caused you to lean down in horror while plugging your ears. Unfortunately, as you leaned down and attempted to muffle the sound of a roaring audience, a body swap between yourself and Tom Wilson occurred while he was in the middle of a match. You didn’t know this, but it soon became clear as a devastating blow to your lower torso emerged as the wind was knocked out of you and caused you to fall to the ground. 

As your eyes rolled into the back of your head momentarily from the collision, the sudden parting of your eyelids brought forth the confusing sight of metal beams and trusses running along the high ceilings rather than the plain white ceilings of your residence. Although this was certainly bizarre by itself, the sudden emergence of hockey players quickly skating to a halt around you caused you to grow quite alarmed.

“Wilson, you good?” one person inquired, which immediately caused your eyes to widen at the statement. 

“Wha- what did you just say?” you asked back, wondering if this was some lucid dream you were having. You were so disarmed by what was going on that you didn’t even get to notice the brand new and huskier voice you now spoke with.

“Uh, I asked if you were ok Tom. Do we need to pull you off the rink or are you ready to get back to playing?” the original man responded, a clear hint of annoyance emerging in his voice as he continued to speak. Before you could even ask further questions, the man said, “C’mon get up,” and extended a hand out towards you. As you reached out to accept it, your eyes immediately took note of the thick gloves that were now on your hands. 

Groaning as you were pulled back up to your feet, you tried to take a step before you stumbled and nearly fell. Luckily, one of the other hockey players was able to catch you before you fell, which allowed you to look down and see the ice skates now wrapped around your feet rather than the worn-down sneakers that you had previously been wearing. Still unsure of whether this was a dream or not, your eyes couldn’t help but look up and scan through the area you now found yourself in. Rather than your small residence that needed some much needed TLC, you now found yourself in a fully-packed hockey arena complete with a cheering crowd that was shouting something in unison. Leaning in to hear it, your face twisted into shock as you heard them shouting “WILSON! WILSON!” on repeat.

With enough context clues, you were pretty confident about what was going on, but you still found yourself looking up at the jumbotron to verify. Upon doing so and lifting your head up, you looked at the screen and found that the handsome visage of Tom Wilson was on the screen looking up. Tilting your head and watching through your peripheral vision as Tom on the screen did the same thing, you realized that your assumption was true. You had somehow ended up in Tom’s body!

While you were unsure whether this was just some sort of possession or shapeshift, the reality of the situation was that the replica uniform had caused you to swap bodies with the real Tom Wilson. So while you ended up with the dreamy hockey body and life you had always dreamed of, Tom found himself left in your slightly out of shape body staring directly into the mirror at his new yet incredibly average face. 

While he was off having a complete breakdown wondering what happened to him though, you found yourself quickly getting checked by an on-site doctor for any injuries. After they verified that you weren’t seriously injured in any way despite the dull numbing pain from falling on your ass, you were quickly sent back out to begin your new life as a professional hockey player.

Although you weren’t athletically inclined back in your old body, becoming Tom seemed to completely change that as you were suddenly excelling at the sport. Throughout the remainder of the game, you were able to easily tap into elements of Tom’s skills and personality to help lead the Capitals to a resounding victory. It was certainly nice to feel quite talented with navigating the rink on ice skates while juking out the opposing team, so much so that you soon found that it was quite hot to tap into Tom’s rather aggressive mentality on the rink as you worked brutally to make sure that your team was the successful one.

Upon finishing up and heading back to the locker room, you were quite excited about how well your first game as Tom Wilson went. You had personally expected it to be a complete disaster given your anxieties about becoming a high-profile athlete, but you soon found yourself growing increasingly confident and even cocky about just how well you had filled Tom’s shoes during the game.

As such, you couldn’t resist celebrating your win by opting to dress up in the designer suit in Tom’s locker rather than the simple t-shirt and short outfit that he had originally planned on wearing post-game. Taking a look in the mirror of the locker room before heading out, you couldn’t help but swoon at just how attractive and manly you looked and felt now. So while you swaggered your way down the hallway of the arena and took a look at the brand new Rolex around your wrist, it was impossible not for you to have a cocky smirk on your face. 

Upon exiting the venue and beginning to make your way towards the top of the line sports car that Tom owned, you quickly recalled the fact that Tom was a married man. Although you had formerly been a gay man, swapping bodies with Tom seemed to alter that as your cock immediately began to harden while envisioning her completely nude. Licking your lips as your mind fantasized about your new wife’s breasts, you wasted no time speeding off away from the venue and towards your new home. It was rather hot to tap into that dominant and aggressive streak of Tom’s while playing on the rink, but you couldn’t help but think about how hotter it would be to utilize that with her once you got home… 

Like what you read? Please consider signing up for my Patreon to read more stories and support my work.    

[starry-hughes]

mooch managing to swap jerseys with quinn during one of the intermissions, and she scores, and commentators are like “quinn hughes is on another level tonight” and she yanks off her helmet and is like “sike” while quin try’s to skate after her

mooch in the post interview like “i hope i don’t get fined for it. nhl if you fine me, charge jack hughes.”

[hangmansgbaby]

Pucking Finally E P I L O G U E

Masterlist

Nat arrived just before the game had started. She flashed her ticket to security and made her way up to the box reserved for the Kings' WAGs. Today was the last game before NHL playoffs and the Kings were in the running. If they win today, the Kings advance to the playoffs. So here she sat in a number 4 jersey, Javy's last name on her back, 4 months pregnant with his kid, and Javy was none the wiser that she was here.

Javy was standing at the wall listening to his coach and captain go over the plan of attack. As far as Javy was concerned in that moment, Nat was 2 hours away, in the comfort of her apartment in San Diego, prepping to move to LA Nat sat up in the box swapping pregnancy tips with Ellie Seresin, wife of Javy's friend Jake, who just found out she was expecting their first.

Soon the game began and Nat was at the edge of her seat, cheering on her boyfriend. Yep, the two had not tied the knot yet, the baby being a huge surprise and halting any thoughts of a wedding. 

Javy did his best on the defense line but by the midway point of the 2nd quarter, the Rangers were up 2-0. The team was tired and about to give up all hope of ending the playoffs tonight on their home ice. Javy skates near Jake who was given the new plan to pass on.

"What's the plan, Seresin?" Jake explains as he glances up at the box towards his wife.

"And maybe show off a bit ya know?" Jake adds.

"Why would I?" Javy laughs as Jake points up to the box. Javy follows his finger and spots Nat watching from above. Smiling, Javy waves up to the box and Nat's face lights up smiling back. "If we lose man, at least do it in style since she's here."

"We'll see."

And apparently that's exactly what Javy needed because in the last minute of the second period, he brought the game up 2-1 and midway through the third period, Javy tied the game 2-2 while his team kept the Rangers out of the net sending the game to overtime.

Nat watched on from above, cheering as Javy got his second goal of the game.

"He's gonna pull a hat trick." Ellie says. 

"I doubt it. Javy's been trying for years in minor leagues. He gave up on that notion a long time ago." Nat laughs as OT starts. No one scores during it, calling for a second OT.

"Let's go watch from the gate so we can meet the boys afterwards." Ellie drags Nat out of the box towards the elevators. 

"Is that even allowed?" Nat asks, following behind her.

"We're pregnant, you really think anyone is gonna tell us no?" Ellie points out as she presses the correct floor.

Sure enough, no one stops them and the girls watch from the glass as Javy makes the final score of the game, completing his hat trick. The fans burst out in cheers as the Kings celebrate their victory. Javy points directly at Nat mouthing, That was for you. Nat smiles as his team drags him away to celebrate. He only cheers for a moment before skating to the bench where his coach hands him something Nat couldn't quite see. Javy softly skates across the ice towards the open gate and right up to Nat.

"Hey."

"Hey." Nat laughs. "You got your hat trick finally."

"I got it for you." Javy laughs. "Ya know, I'm going to the Stanley Cup playoffs."

"You did." Nat replies. She reaches out her hand and Javy slips his in hers. 

"I still have to claim my prize." Javy mentions. Nat laughs again.

"Maybe you should go get it." Nat motions towards where his team celebrates on the ice.

"Actually, I was hoping that you," Jay pauses as he gets down on one knee and opens a small black box, "would be my prize."

"What?" 

"Natasha Trace, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Nat almost screams as she wraps Javy in a hug, planting a kiss on his lips. "I have a surprise for you too." 

"Could this night get any better?" Javy asks as Nat pulls an ultrasound out of her pocket. "Natty, I've already seen this." Javy laughs, quickly slipping the ring on Nat's finger.

"Look again, closely." 

Javy looks again and notices two letters on the picture, A and B.

"Twins?!"

Taglist: @mamachasesmayhem @sarahsmi13s @kmc1989 @daggerspare-standingby @callmemana

[tea-moon-ster]

Hey Brother

Finn and Alex answer to some sibling questions in an interview for the Lions' channel.

CW: mentions of injuries and food

All characters belong to @lumosinlove. inspired by the lovely @fruitcoops's social media fics (and happy birthday again, lovely!) read it on ao3 here.

“I’m so excited, I never get called for this kind of things,” Alex smiled.

He was sitting down at a table with Finn at his side, a plain background behind them and two glasses of water on the table he was leaning on with his arms. They were wearing their team’s jerseys, with two mics were pinned on the collars. “Finn, why do you never call me for these things?”

“Why don’t you do them with your team?”

“It’s not up to me!”

A voice came from off camera. “We’re recording, guys.”

Finn turned to flash a smile at the camera. “Wassup, Lions! Welcome to another Lions Channel video. I’m your one and only Finn O’Hara, and I’m here with my brother Alex, center for the New York Rangers.”

Alex waved his hand, winking at the camera. “Hi, Lions. Today we’ll be answering some siblings’ questions, read by the amazing Marlene.”

The voice behind the camera made a cooing noise. “Alex, I want you here for every video.”

Alex nodded, smiling even more. “I want to be in one with all the couples!”

“Throuples, Al, we’re both in throuples.”

“That,” he nodded. “Throuple tag. Poly night. Double throuples double trouble!”

“I’ll make that happen!” Marlene yelled back. She made a quick run into frame to double five Alex as Finn rolled his eyes, but he was smirking. “Since I’m already here, I’ll explain the game. I’m going to read some of the questions our viewers wrote under the comments of our last video -link below- and the O’Haras are going to answer for us. You ready, guys?”

Alex gave a thumb up, and Finn making finger-guns at the camera as Marlene walked away. “Unleash ‘em.”

“Great! Just one thing to do before we start. It’s jerseys swapping time!”

They both groaned, but they got up grinning to take off the respective jerseys, their protests only light teases.

“Do we have to? He stinks.”

“But this way I’ll catch the nerdy loser’s disease.”

“C’mon, we’re playing with the audience a bit,” Marlene smiled.

The two brothers handed each other the piece of clothing and put them on before taking their seats again. Alex was delighted with the blush on Kasey’s cheeks, from where he was standing behind the camera together with some members of the team, as he put on the red and golden jersey. He made a mental note for later and smiled at the camera.

“Do your parents have a favorite?”

“Oh, he’s definitely Mom’s,” Finn immediately said, crossing his arms with a light frown. Alex shrugged.

“You only say that because you’re Dad’s. The biggest couple of dorks that ever dorked on Earth.”

“Excuse you?”

Alex nodded gravely, patting his brother’s shoulder. “Yeah, you and dad are the dorks, mom and I are the cool ones. Just the facts, buddy.”

“That’s…that’s not true,” Finn said with not much conviction in his voice.

“We can call mom right now and ask her.” Finn’s ears went red from blushing.

“I don’t wanna bother her with such irrelevant assumptions, that’s all,” he mumbled, looking away, and Alex barked out a loud laugh.

“What do you love and what do you hate about being in the NHL together?”

Alex stretched his legs under the table, bringing an arm around Finn’s chair. “Well, we don’t see each other as much as I’d like to because of our schedules. But there’s an added challenge every time we play against each other.”

Finn licked his lips. “What I don’t like is that, until we’re not on the same team, one of us has to fail for the other to win, and that’s kind of bitter, like in some Greek myth.” Alex threw a pointed look at the camera, mouthing dork. “But I like when we’re on the ice together.”

“Yeah, it’s always funny to beat your bony ass,” Alex smirked, and the video was cut the moment Finn opened his mouth to argue.

“What do you think of your brother’s partners?”

“Bliz and Nat are cool,” Finn shrugged with a small smile. “Natalie will lend me her books and do face masks with me if I ask nicely. But Kasey knows that he can get away with pranks because Alex is on his side, and that’s not okay.”

Alex looked smug. “I so am. So, Leo and Logan…well, I’d say I know Logan better, but I really like them both. Leo is great. He brings all the maturity you two lack and if it wasn’t for him, you’d starve.”

“You know, he was so worried when I introduced you officially.”

“Finn!” Leo gasped off camera. “He wasn’t supposed to know that!”

“Do you think you’re a better player than your brother?”

“Yes,” they answered at the same time evenly, without batting an eye.

“What’s your brother’s pre-game meal?”

Finn started drumming on the table as they both leaned forward, identical grins on their faces. “Grilled cheese with strawberry jam!” they exclaimed together.

“It was my favorite when I was a kid, then I started making it for Finn before his games, and now god forbid we touch the ice without having it first,” Alex said.

Finn smiled. “We prepared it together before our last game in New York, a month ago. What a jump in the past.”

“When did you brother scare you the most?”

“Oof, definitely his two concussion adventures in college,” Alex sighed deeply, readjusting on his chair. “For the first one I checked my phone after practice and found, like, seven missed calls from our parents, and took a plane immediately. It was scary to see him laying still and silent like that.”

Finn was silent for a moment, biting his lip. “This is gonna sound so stupid after what you just said, but there was this time, when I was eleven-”

“Oh my God, Finn, get over it,” Alex rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, it’s my scary experience. So, I was eleven, my friends and I had gotten our hands on this horror movie with age restrictions and all. I can’t remember the title…it was about a ghost living in the walls of a house, and you’ll see why this bit is important. Anyway, we were so hyped up- that is, until I was in my room, at night, alone and in complete darkness. It’s already scary as it is, really. Then, I hear this loud stomp against the wall, and footsteps outside my room, back and forth. And this went on for, like, half an hour. I was about to pee myself. Then this dark figure comes into my room and mumbles something and just stands there, in front of me. I was so freaked out, here, feel my goosebumps.” Alex slapped his arm away. “I was crying by that point. When I mastered the tiniest hint of courage to turn on the lights, I saw this…this lanky teenager with his eyes closed, talking to himself and with a bleeding nose.”

Multiple people behind the camera started laughing.

“I was having trouble with sleepwalking in that period,” Alex explained with a sigh, “And that night I walked into a wall face-first, then into Finn’s bedroom and talked to myself for a bit. Then he started screaming so I woke up terrified and- yeah, not a good night.”

“Then dad came in and blamed me for having scared Alex, because you have to be gentle with sleepwalkers, and went all fussy over him,” Finn scoffed, shaking his head. “And I got grounded for the movie, too. I still think he was awake the whole time and that it was a prank.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Yeah Finn, I broke my nose against a wall just to scare you when it takes so much less.”

“He told everyone in school he broke his nose on a fight on the ice.”

“Shut up.”

“Who was a better scholar?”

Alex arched his brows, pointing a finger at Finn, who opened his arms in a half-bow. “Between who, Mr. Harvard degree and winner of the DSA lottery? Tough choice.”

“Actually, it’s between whom,” Finn pointed out, voice small.

 Alex turned slowly and blinked. “Finn, do you actually want me to put the socks I wore at practice one week ago and that are still in my bag under your pillow? Because it sounds like it.”

At that, Finn’s smile disappeared, his expression as if caught on flashbacks. Alex returned to face the camera and shrugged. “It wasn’t the DSA deal per se, but the way teachers treated it. Studying was hard because there wasn’t much awareness on the subject. But I had lots of friends in school. It was a blast.”

Finn pulled a face. “We had lots of friends and were always more on the popular side. But honestly, between my ADHD and his DSA, our parents argued with our teachers a lot. I hope the situation is better now, but the majority believed that they were just excuses for not studying. College was better, but yuck.”

Alex nodded solemnly. “Yeah, yuck.”

“Your brother’s favorite superhero.”

They looked at each other in the eyes for a second before erupting in laughter, Finn snortling a little, and making Alex laugh harder as he leaned on the table. “Look up, Finn.”

“But no, Alex, look down.”

Another fist of laughter had them bent on the table, shoulder shaking. After a while they straightened, cheeks flushed, and Alex took a sip of water. Finn grinned devilishly as he watched his brother drink and started humming the Spiderman’s theme song. It made Alex choke on his water, and some got out of his nose. He was still giggling as he coughed and patted his own chest a few times, and Finn was about to fall from his chair for how hard was laughing.

“Guys?” Marlene called, mildly amused.

Alex nodded, slapping Finn’s arm, and making him straighten up. “No, yeah-we’re good, we’re good.”

Finn cleared his throat. “We’d need a whole other video to talk about this. Short version: as two nerdy kids growing up in New York, we were obsessed with pretty much every superhero. So many shenanigans. But our favorite was Spiderman-”

“-and Ninja turtles.”

“And Ninja turtles. Alex always made up stories on how he met them on the way home. Suspiciously every time I wasn’t there.”

The older brother grinned without a trace of regret. “I had him in the palm of my hand, really. So gullible.”

“Oh, Finn, buddy, I told the Ninja turtles how fast you are at cleaning my room and they didn’t believe me.” Finn glared at Alex, who nodded proudly. “No, yeah Fishy, I just had a pizza with Peter Parker. He likes me better.”

“I had him believe that the Turtles’ base was in the sewers under our house and that you could see Spiderman flying from the living room’s window. But only when he wasn’t looking.”

“That’s mean!” Marlene called, laughing.

Finn nodded, thankful for the support, but Alex dismissed her with a hand. “Nah, it builds character.”

“Do you think your brother would make a good parent?”

“I know he will,” Finn nodded, quick and confident. They were now calmer, but the blush on their cheeks was slow to disappear. “He’s caring and protective, but not in a strict way. I like to think I was a good training, because he always hung out with me when we were kids, and he took me everywhere. Sometimes you don’t want your little tagalong brother always following you, and I certainly was a presence as a kid. But he never minded it.”

Alex, who’d been looking at him intensely, quickly wiped his glossy eyes before clearing his throat. He leaned forward and looked at both sides, like a coach releasing vital information during an important press interview. “Finn will be the king of suburban dads,” he declared.

“Hell yeah, I will,” Finn beamed.

“A point of force and one of weakness of your brother on the ice.”

They both took a moment to reflect, looking up in the same identical manner. Alex lifted a finger.

“You’re crazy fast, and that’s my answer for both points. It’s a good thing because you can lead the puck from nest to nest in no time, but it also means that when you take a hit at a high speed it’s always a huge risk. Would you look at that, just like with your concussions.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we got it, clumsy, silly Finn.” He licked his lips and thought some more before answering. “I’m gonna go with your hard shot for the positive thing and, huh…you should work on backwards passes? Maybe? Can that be my answer?”

He looked over the camera for confirmation and smiled. “Great.”

“Is there something you’d like to tell your brother?”

“I wish we talked more,” Alex said, more somber than from the rest of the interview, turning to face Finn. “We always do, but never of, like, feelings and such. And I wish I’d been there for you more in the past.”

Finn’s lips arched downwards in an involuntary touched pout, and he scooped his chair closer to Alex’s. “Well, ’snot your fault,” he replied gently. “You were always there. I didn’t talk, but I knew I would have been safe if I did. But yeah, same for me, I think. We kind of went through tough periods at the same time, but I was in college and not emotionally intelligent at all. So yeah, you were always there for me, but I can’t say the same.” 

Alex’s smile was soft as he pulled Finn’s chair attached to his. He threw an arm around his brother’s shoulders, and Finn leaned in unconsciously. “I don’t feel that way,” he said quietly, “But we can talk about it if you’d like.”

Finn nodded, blinking rapidly. “Yeah.”

“Something you wanna tell the NHL or the fans?”

“Never be afraid of who you are and who you love,” Finn smiled, adjusting the small bisexual pin next to the microphone on his jersey. Alex did the same with his pansexual one and nodded, taking a moment to find the right words.

“In the NHL we’re witnessing many changes in so little time, and it’s great. But before last year, we’d been on stall for ages, because when you feel like you’re the only one, every step is scary as hell. That’s why it’s important to reach out and realize you’re never alone.” There were a few seconds of reminiscing silence, both nodding and wetting their lips. Then Finn cupped his hands around the mouth, forming a cone.

“And let us play on the same team!”

Alex nodded emphatically. “Think of us as an investment.”

“We’d be invincible.”

“The siblings’ bond is so here.”

“Okay, I think they got the message,” Marlene laughed. “Well, this was the last question for you guys! Wanna sign us off?”

“This was Finn O’Hara.”

“And Alex O’Hara, for the Lions Channel. Hope I’ll see you soon!”

[laresearchette]

Friday, December 22, 2023 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: SAGO MINI FRIENDS: NEW YEAR'S STEVE (Apple TV +) WOULD I LIE TO YOU? (BritBox) THE SECRET GIFT OF CHRISTMAS (W Network) 8:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT? 25TH ANNUAL A HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS (CBS Feed)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA AFTER WE FELL

CRAVE TV ACTING GOOD (Season 2) THE BLACKENING A CHRISTMAS FOR THE AGES A CHRISTMAS STAR CROUCHING TIGER, HIDDEN DRAGON FEAR THY NEIGHBOUR (Season 9A) IT’S ALL GONE PETE TONG JACKIE BROWN JERSEY SHORE: FAMILY VACATION (Season 6) THE JINGLE BELL JUBILEE LISTING LARGE (Season 1) LONG LIFE, HAPPINESS AND PROSPERITY MTV CRIBS (Season 19) NESTING (Season 1) ONE YEAR OFF RIDICULOUSNESS (Season 35) SCORE: A HOCKEY MUSICAL SOMEWHERE IN QUEENS SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE TEEN MOM OG (Season 9) TEEN MOM 2 (Season 11A) TEEN MOM: THE NEXT CHAPTER (Season 1B) WATERMARK THE WEAPON

DISNEY + STAR WHAT IF…? (Season 2 Premiere)

NETFLIX CANADA GYEONGSEONG CREATURE (Season 1 Part 1) (KR) REBEL MOON — PART ONE: A CHILD OF FIRE SING 2

2024 IIHF WORLD JUNIOR PRE-COMPETITION (TSN/TSN4) 9:00am: Canada vs. Switzerland

MEET ME UNDER THE MISTLETOE (CTV Life) 6:00pm: Rival real estate agents both make the same wish during the first snow of the winter: to win the most coveted listing in town. As the business competitors begrudgingly work together, they learn the house comes with a special commission: love.

NHL HOCKEY (SNOntario) 7:00pm: Leafs vs. Sabres (SN1/SNEast) 7:00pm: Hurricanes vs. Penguins (SNWest) 7:30pm: Oilers vs. Devils (SNPacific) 8:00pm: Canucks vs. Stars (TSN3) 8:00pm: Bruins vs. Jets (TSN2) 8:30pm: Habs vs. Chicago (SN/SN1) 10:00pm: Flames vs. Ducks

WHITE HOUSE CHRISTMAS 2023 (HGTV Canada) 7:00pm: It's the most wonderful time of the year to get inspired by the stunning holiday decorations at America's most iconic home: the White House.

NBA BASKETBALL (TSN4) 7:30pm: Nuggets vs. Nets (SN360) 8:00pm: Clippers vs. Thunder (SN Now) 9:00pm: Lakers vs. Timberwolves

THE HOLIDAY (CBC) 8:00pm: Two women, one (Cameron Diaz) from America and one (Kate Winslet) from England, swap homes at Christmastime after bad breakups with their boyfriends.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL (1951) (CTV2) 8:00pm: Dickens' London miser Ebenezer Scrooge (Alastair Sim) meets the spirits of Christmases past, present and yet to come.

AN ICE PALACE ROMANCE (CTV Life) 8:00pm: A journalist faces old fears when she returns to her hometown ice rink to cover a story. With the help of the owner and his young daughter, she begins to reevaluate her life's purpose.

THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF JERSEY (Slice) 8:00pm: Baby Steps and Battle Lines

BRINGING CHRISTMAS HOME (Super Channel Heart & Home) 8:00pm: A professor of military history teams with an antique store owner to help track down the original owner of a historic World War II uniform and the love letters in its pockets.

MURDER AT CARTER COUNTY MINES (Investigation Discovery) 9:00pm: A beloved couple go missing from their rural Kentucky home, leaving behind a mysterious crime scene; clues emerge across state lines, sending investigators on a wild chase until an unlikely source reveals the shocking truth.

SOMEWHERE IN QUEENS (Crave) 9:00pm: Leo and Angela Russo live a blue-collar life, surrounded by the big personalities of their overbearing Italian-American family. When their son's chance at a life-changing basketball scholarship is jeopardized, Leo risks everything to help him.

[christanevspug]

whenever free agency hits, i’m expecting alex pietrangelo to sign in winnipeg, and if he doesn’t, i will personally go and cry to kevin cheveldayoff.

[peniswentz]

Philadelphia Flyers and Phillies jersey swaps

MLB/NHL jersey swaps 3/17

[leighlim]

Oh Simon! I'm so glad I got the nudge to have a peek at your Instagram feed today! And I was not dissapointed.

PS: Who is #20? That’s what I asked myself the longer I looked at this photo. So...after a quick search I found who currently is wearing it: Chris Kreider

PPS: And is Seth wearing baggy pants!? :)))))))

PPPS: You can find Simon’s post here.

[thornescratch]

this boy wants the stick and loves to puck - i need more details stat

So there's these novelty shirts with the "this girl wants the stick and loves to puck" text and usually a team logo on it, and they're not to my taste but no judgement if they're yours. Ovi's stick collection is well known by now (here, here, and here if you like) and I always thought it would be kind of hilarious to see stick swapping as, like, a feature of trying to find your soulmate/soulbond, because any time you can mess around with the weird OCD sports rituals as a function of something else, you gotta.

It actually started as a casual porn thing, which was just bb!Ovi being told by one of his teammates as a joke that stick swapping requires sex. And bb!Ovi being, "OKAY.” :D :D :D And then cheerfully banging his way through the NHL in a variety of ways for sticks. He figures it out, of course, by the end of his rookie year. But Ovi frankly likes sex, is good at sex, doesn't mind having sex with most people, and is more than happy to take advantage of using a stick swap request as a pick up line as well, so why not.

Then, ugh, it grew plot and worldbuilding. So, it's sorta all about stickswapping as a way to find your soulmate, and Alex Ovechkin cheerfully collecting sticks and giving the hockey world conniptions over whether or not he's got a soulmate, and putting pictures of his stick collection on instagram, and Don Cherry having mouth-frothing sessions about how GOOD CANADIAN BOYS DON'T JUST SHOW OFF THEIR STICK COLLECTIONS LIKE THAT WHAT IS HE SOME KIND OF STICK SLUT. HE NEEDS TO SETTLE DOWN.

Occasionally Ovi gets snide rumors about him sleeping around with swapping. "Dude is so desperate for a Cup, he's doing anything to find a soulbond." (There are Ovi and Crosby truthers, who insist they're soulmates but that they're hiding it for some reason, since they totally swapped sticks and even jerseys. Crosby ignores it, and Ovi actively trolls it.) There are different cultural things around soulbonds and stick-swapping, European vs. North American traditions, what it means if you swap sticks across positions, if you ask on or off the ice, if it happens at an All Star Game...

As with everything I write, it’s a big ol’ pile of self indulgence.

"Maybe it's a goalie," Willy suggests a few days after the SportsCenter segment airs and the mood in the room has stopped cautiously tiptoeing around the elephant in the corner.

"It's not a goalie," Alex says.

"Maybe it's Lundqvist," Burky adds on, his eyes big and round.

"It's not Lundqvist," Alex says a little more irritably. "Anyway, I have his stick already, you know that. It's not him. We say so, if yes. We not."

He doesn’t bother to point out that with the number of times they’ve matched with New York in the playoffs, of course he would have fucking said something by now if it was true. He would also have taken out ads in all the New York papers and possibly hired a plane to fly a banner over their hockey arena just to be really obnoxious about it.

“Shouldn’t you be on the ice already,” Nicky says to the kids, and they scramble out with the appropriate amount of urgency.

Alex snorts when they’re the only ones left in the locker room. He tosses a tape ball in Nicky’s direction. “You don’t need to.”

“I like to,” Nicky says. “Shouldn’t you be on the ice?”

“You know me, I gonna touch all sticks while everyone not here,” Alex says. “Like pervert. You know.”

“Maybe lick them too,” Nicky says with a completely straight face, and then he smiles and it breaks up the last of the sharp edges that have been rubbing inside his chest ever since the stupid fucking segment aired, and Alex smiles back.

[nebulein]

The cat already changed his insta header to the senators 😭😭

"Shit." It just occurred to him.

"What," Dylan asks, stretched out on the couch next to him, not looking up from his doomscrolling on Twitter. At least some things never change.

Alex bites his lip. "I'm gonna have to do an Insta post, won't I?"

"Oh, yeah." Dylan looks irritatingly unbothered by the revelation. Alex kicks his ankle. At least that gets Dylan to look at him, even if he's making an outraged 'what was that for' face.

"I don't even know what to say!"

Sure, there'd been rumors for months, but it's the NHL. When weren't there rumors. Alex had somehow, stupidly, foolishly, always thought he'd be a part of whatever rebuild would be happening. Well. Looks like Kyle had had other plans. Maybe Alex should've put more stock in the increasingly pinched looks Jonny had been wearing after every meeting with the FO, but it's a moot point now.

"Oh, pssh, that's easy. I basically had a draft sitting ready in my notes since forever," Dylan waves him off, face already buried in his Twitter timeline again. "I wanna thank the team and the fans for an amazing time in Chicago," he drones on, voice entirely flat like he's reading this out, except Alex can see that all Dylan's got open right now is a video of Noodle. Apparently it's a super bones day. "And then you go on, like, super excited to come play in," Dylan frowns, faltering.

"Ottawa," Alex supplies.

"Ottawa," Dylan repeats, like it's the first time he's heard it, like Alex hasn't been freaking out about this trade for the last hour and a half.

"How's your own talks going?" Alex asks more to keep Dylan talking than anything. He still doesn't know how to feel about this damn trade. "And send me that draft, will ya?"

"Yeah, sure." Dylan nods absently, chewing on the drawstring of his hoodie, tapping away on his phone before throwing it to the side with a huff, finally looking at Alex. "You know how talks are going, man, there are no talks."

It used to make Alex' heart sink. Now, though, it's maybe not so bad. Alex won't be in Chicago anymore anyways, there's really no reason for Dylan to stay here any longer, either. Not when the Hawks never could see what they had in Dylan.

Alex's phone buzzes with a text. He pulls up the notes app, copies over what Dylan has sent him and starts editing to make it sound like himself. It's a good starting point. Alex very carefully doesn't think about what it means that Dylan has had this draft on his phone since who knows how long, ready to whip it out whenever. All it's missing is the new team name. He deletes the XXXs, fills it in with 'Senators' instead.

Dylan's an RFA, but with the Hawks not even offer sheeting him he's basically free to sign wherever.

"What does Morris say?"

Dylan sighs. "That we'll talk next week. But he asked if I had any, like, destinations in mind."

Dylan makes a face. Alex hums in agreement. He doesn't want to move, either. The mere idea of having to pack up this whole house, with Archie and Burt and Ralph, and move it all to a whole different country... it's a lot.

Still. Ottawa isn't the worst place in the world. And then Alex has an idea. It doesn't take him long to find it, there's always someone quick to do those jersey swaps and Alex only feels a little bad swiping the picture without asking. This is more important though.

By the time he's done he's got a post on Instagram thanking the Hawks for five wonderful years, likes count already going up as Alex watches, and a shiny new Insta bio and profile pic. At least this way Dylan will hopefully remember who Alex plays for now.

"How do you feel about moving to Canada?"

[butgilinsky]

maybe someday you and me can run away // jf

warning; none, i don’t think

summary; one bad pick up line at a bar leads to an odd dynamic between you and joel that somehow works out

word count; 2.5k+

add yourself to my nhl taglist!

You can feel the weight on your shoulders fade with every drink you throw back. It’s a Saturday night and while you’re not always one to agree to a round of shots three times in the same night, you’ve had a rough week and let your friends sway you into drinking the stress away. That along with the fact that you’re here for Jess, trying to help her get over her recent break up. If she wanted to take shots, you’re not in a place to deny her that. 

The bar is packed, the line outside rolling down the sidewalk, and you’re just happy to be out of the cold. The long sleeve shirt and jeans you have on doesn’t shield you from much more than a light breeze, and with it being October in Philly, being inside seems to be the safest place for you. 

You don’t notice the band of rowdy boys spilling into the bar, given that you’re pressed against the bar and waiting patiently for your drink. Your attention’s on one of the screens above the liquor bottles when a boy sidles up beside you and sends you a wide smile. 

“Hey Juliet.” you look at him, an unimpressed smile finding its way to your lips as you laugh at his attempt at picking you up. You’d been offered a drink twice tonight alone, and while you planned on denying it, you were just waiting for him to offer another. 

“That’s not my name.” your nose scrunches and you shrug, the unimpressed smile turning into a gentle one. “Must have the wrong girl.”

“I think Romeo knows his Juliet.” you mock a gag, one with your finger pointing to the back of your throat that has the stranger bubbling up a laugh that’s strangely melodic in your ears. You smile at the sound and sigh softly. 

“I’m flattered, truly, but my name’s not Juliet and I’m sure yours isn’t Romeo.” he cocks his head to the side and adjusts the hat on top of his head. His eyebrows raise and he sucks on his teeth gently. 

“Well if you know everything then what is my name, sweetheart?” you sigh and look him up and down a few times, going through various lists of names you have stored in your memory. 

“I’m getting a Bryce vibe.” he scoffed then, one from the back of his throat that tells you that you’re way off, but there’s a hint of a smile settling on his lips and you enjoy the view. 

“So you think I'm a frat boy who can’t tell the difference between a PBR and a Sam Adams?”

“No, I think you can tell the difference between a PBR and a Sam Adams but for whatever reason, you prefer the PBR.” his smile only widens and another laugh slips past his lips, another melody playing between your ears that you truly don’t think you can get enough of. 

“I think you’d be surprised to hear that your reading is a tad off since I don't spend my time doing keg stands in a frat house. I actually play hockey.” you rolled your eyes on instinct, the image of the boy in front of you that currently lived in your head now washed away and replaced with a tainted version. 

“What’s the difference?” his tongue clicks, unsure of how that didn’t get you. That usually caught ears and eyes in seconds. 

“In the NHL.” he tries to clarify, hoping that your indifference is because you don’t know he’s a Flyer. Maybe you think he plays for a minor league team, or maybe even college. 

“Good for you bud.” you smile when the bartender sets a glass in front of you and you turn, a smile dancing on your lips as you grip your drink and give the boy a pat on the back before you turn and leave the bar. 

“What’s your name!” you just smile and wave at him over your shoulder. 

“Bye Bryce!” 

He watches you for the rest of the night, losing for one second when he runs to grab another drink but by the time he gets back to his spot with his friends, you’re gone. Morgan told him you left, knowing all too well that the slump in his shoulders is due to the absence of the girl he’s been gawking at all night long. 

The next time he sees you, he has to do a double take. He’s thumbing through racks of clothes at a department store, Nolan and Travis at his side as the three of them talk about something that Joel quickly loses track of when he hears your voice.

“Hi Bryce.” you smile gently, looking over the rack of clothes you stood behind. You were only a few feet from them, and Joel almost wonders how he didn’t see you until now. 

“Hi Juliet.” The smile that hangs off of his lips is gentle and you have to ignore the way your heart thumps in your chest. It’s easy to do when there’s two other people there for you to acknowledge. You scoff at the name, though you should’ve expected it at this point. 

“Are these your frat brothers?” Travis and Nolan share a look that’s beyond confused. They’re both even further confused at the fact that Joel is acting like this is normal, like you’re not calling him by the wrong name and asking him about a frat he isn’t even in. 

“Wanna take a crack at ‘em?” you hum, pausing your browsing for clothes to lean your arm on the rack and thumb through names one more time. 

“James,” you point at Travis, “and Grayson.” Nolan smiles at the name that came completely out of left field, and Travis lets out a laugh that’s almost uncontrollable. They’re not sure where that came from, but it’s surely entertaining for them. 

“You’re so far off you’re not even in the fairway anymore.” the smile stuck on your lips has Joel’s full attention. 

“A baseball reference from a hockey player? Interesting.” you hum softly and Travis’s jaw goes slack. He assumed you had no idea what they did or who they were, given your clueless guesses of what their names would be. Alongside that, you’ve been calling them frat boys the entire time you’ve been in front of them. It was all confusing and he wasn’t sure how Joel was keeping up with it all. 

“Well Juliet, you up for a name swap now?” Nolan’s hit with the realization of who you are then, shocked to find out that you went out of your way to speak to Joel first. He was sure that Joel just had someone to look at for the remainder of the night, not one that would acknowledge him outside of a bar on Saturday night. He had no idea that you were the girl Morgan was telling him about the next morning. 

“Would you stop calling me Juliet if you knew my name?” the way his nose scrunches has your smile growing, and Travis and Nolan pick up on it quickly. They don’t know you but they know Joel, and he never acts like this with anybody in front of them. It’s always a goofy and confident demeanor that gets him to home plate, not this playful banter in the middle of a department store. 

“Probably not.” you hum, plucking the shirt that caught your eye off of the rack and walking to the end of the section. 

“Then it looks like you’re still Bryce.” you shrug gently and walk away, leaving Joel with a dazed smile and a far off look in his eyes. 

That and two very confused friends that would be demanding an explanation out of him. 

It feels like forever passes before he sees you again. He’s caught off guard, almost slammed into the boards when he comes to a screeching halt at the glass in front of you. You’re wearing a Flyers shirt, which is a good start, but he notices it’s not a jersey and it doesn’t have his name or number on it. 

Your eyes light up when there’s a knock on the glass that has you looking up from your phone and over to the boy that’s a complete mystery to you. You smile brightly and wave, surprising the people that are sitting around you and your friends. Gage, your best friend since sophomore year of college, looks between you and Joel and can’t believe that you’re waving at him like it’s nothing. 

“You know Joel Farabee?” he asks and you shrug gently, about to explain when Joel signals things to you that you have to spell out for yourself. 

Wait for me.

You nod and shoot him a thumbs up, a sign that you heard him and would indeed wait for him after the game. You know you’ll have to fight off your friends afterwards, explaining to them how you knew Joel and why he was “infatuated with you” as Gage claimed him to be. Gage is now aware of why you suddenly had an interest in going to a Flyers game with the group, as opposed to all the times he’s asked you to come with him and you’ve denied him. 

Joel scores and gets two assists in that game, and you’re on your feet for all of them. He looks up at you after he scores and smiles brightly, nothing but the hope in his mind that you’ll wait for him after the game. 

You do, as promised, and he runs down the steps with wet hair and a wide smile before he jumps on the step beside you, plopping down in the seat right next to you. 

“Hey Juliet.” you roll your eyes but smile, a smile that Joel’s eyes latch onto and his heart yearns for. 

You’re beautiful, that much Joel is sure about. He doesn’t know your name but he knows that this is the third time he’s run into you, though it’s hardly out of nowhere, and he’s sure that he wants to know more about you. He wants to know how you’re wired, what makes you smile and what makes you tick. He wants to know your darkest thoughts and your happiest days. He wants to learn everything there is to know about you, but he knows that he has a lot to go through in order to get there. 

“Good game, Bryce.” he laughs gently and lets a soft silence fall over the two of you before turning towards you with a wide grin that has you worried about what’s to come. 

“Do you want to go grab a cup of coffee?” you mock a gasp, hand pressed to your chest and feigned offense. 

“Are you trying to seduce me, Bryce? Because I hate to break it to you, superstar, but I’m not going home with you tonight.”

“I didn’t expect you to. I do, however, expect you to call me my name now that you obviously know it.” you hummed for a second, pretending to think about it before shaking your head gently. 

“I think Bryce suits you, and I know you’re still going to call me Juliet.”

“Only because I still don’t know your name.” 

“That’s what makes this so much fun.” you whispered gently, squeezing his thigh before popping up onto your feet and holding your hand out. “Let’s go get coffee.”

He takes you to a 24 hour diner you’ve never seen before, one that he swears is better than any other diner you’ve been to. He only laughs a little when you order a strawberry milkshake instead of a coffee, and you gasp when he orders a chocolate one. 

You’re there for a few hours, losing track of time as the two of you dive into random facts and stories that have the other enthralled. You learn about Joel’s upbringing, how he grew up playing hockey and despite always being one of the smaller guys, he made sure he was one of the strongest. You tell him about growing up a football fan, not much interest in hockey due to all of the violence. 

The two of you are lost in conversation, not paying attention to either of your phones or any of the clocks on the walls. You find yourself letting down your walls slightly, more than you normally would with someone you hardly know, but that’s the thing. You’ve only met Joel a few times, never calling him by his name and never offering up your own, but you feel like you’ve known him for years. 

You feel like he’s important in your life, despite just entering it a few weeks ago. You’re not sure where he fits into it, if he’ll fit into it, but you’re sure you have to try. You’re sure that the feeling in the pit of your stomach isn’t a coincidence, and that the way your heart flutters every time he laughs or smiles is completely brand new and you never want it to stop. 

Your bubble is popped when you catch the eyes of someone you went to high school with, someone you barely like and has never given you more than a headache and a coffee stain on your perfectly thought out essay on how the education system fucking sucks. 

“Y/n! Hi!” you bite down on your lip and look at Joel for a second, who’s sending you a shit eating grin while he sips on his milkshake. 

“Hi.” you turn to Stacy, the girl now standing at the end of your table that’s trying to look interested in seeing you for the first time since graduation. In all reality, you know she’s here for Joel. The way she leans onto the table and pushes her breasts in his face is telling enough. 

But Joel doesn’t pay much mind to her. He offers her a gentle greeting and a handshake when she silently sticks her hand in her direction, but he turns to you after that’s over and gives you his undivided attention. 

Stacy gets the idea that she’s not entirely welcome and leaves soon after she leaves, but the damage is done. It’s evident that Joel both heard and remembered your name falling from his lips, because as soon as she stalks off and out of the diner, his grin has reached a level of annoyance that has you wanting to smack it right off his face. 

“Hi y/n.” you want to be mad, but the way your name falls off his lips has you swooning in ways you didn’t think were possible. You find yourself tripping over yourself while sitting down, and you’re not sure how to handle it. 

The sigh that tumbles past your lips is covered by a smile, and the way Joel raises his eyebrows at you shows that he’s waiting for you to return the sentiment. 

“Hi Joel.” he’s never smiled so wide, cheeks aching from the movement but he laughs anyways. He dives back into his story about setting off a smoke bomb in the locker room a few months ago, and you’re enthralled all over again. 

-

bee taglist; @extratragic​ @pierreslucdubois​

[krakenbait]

2021-22 phf jerseys: a breakdown

i’m in a procrastinating mood tonight, so let’s talk jerseys. now that all phf teams have their official jerseys set, including new ones from the connecticut whale and metropolitan riveters, it feels like a good time to do a breakdown of what works and what doesn’t design-wise for these jerseys. i just know this is going to get long, so all jersey opinions can be found under the cut.

boston pride

i talked about the gradient away jerseys briefly in my favorite nwhl jerseys breakdown last season, and my opinion hasn’t changed. i think it’s a really unique, but really effective jersey. i was skeptical of gradients after the horrendous designs that came out of the nhl in the 90′s, but the pride were able to pull off what their male counterparts could never, balancing the design in a way that made the gradient work. i’m not really a huge fan of the big flat “boston” wordmark across the chest, but i do think it’s better than putting the full logo on the gradient jersey. i just wish they could have found a better middle ground that filled out some of the blank space a little better. the number placement on the shoulders is good, i like the two stripes on the arms for a little bit of more traditional hockey design, and the lioness head shoulder patches are a big win.

the home jerseys are a much more traditional design, but that’s exactly what the pride needed to complement their unique aways. i really appreciate that the pride (as well as the beauts and the six) didn’t go white for their home jerseys, leading to some color-on-color matchups that i think will nearly always look visually interesting. on this nice gold jersey, the lioness head logo is the focal point, accented by a chest stripe that’s mirrored on the arms. i’ve got no complaints with the chest stripe and matching arm stripes- it’s a classic hockey look, most famously done by the montreal canadiens. the pride’s look has a similar striping pattern to the habs, actually, but adds an extra black stripe on both ends of the big gold stripe and the two thin white stripes to add even more context. overall this jersey is effective and to the point, but nothing special.

buffalo beauts

the beauts jerseys have gone through a lot of variations over the years, but always tend to stick to the same themes. their current jersey set is classically designed but effective.

i’m a fan of the away jerseys. i don’t normally like all-black jerseys- i gained a lot of my design opinions from hockey by design, and the writer behind the worst to first series (which i highly recommend if you like what i do) despises black jerseys, so i picked up some of that. however, i think the beauts blue accent striping, especially in the full kit, really makes it. that and all the logos, especially the crown and snowflake shoulder patches. 

the home jerseys are pretty simple but effective. i love that beauts baby blue, it’s such a nice color. same deal as with the aways, all the logos work really well. the striping is your run of the mill thin-thick-thin on both the arms and the waist stripe. i appreciate that waist stripe because it fills up some of the jersey’s empty space a little more. i also like the subtle texture on the thick black stripe- it’s a nice little detail.

connecticut whale

these are the same jerseys, just color-swapped, so i’m going to talk about them together. 

i’m not a fan of these jerseys. they kind of remind me of the isles fisherman jerseys, and not in a good way. i like the whale tail decals on the wrists, and i think those are fun. but that wave on the bottom annoys me, especially because the wavy striping pattern they had in previous years is so much better. i get the feeling that the whale’s design team saw how cool minnesota’s lake jerseys were last year and wanted to do something like that with their own branding. but the problem is the whale use three colors while the whitecaps use two, and the monochromaticism of the lake design was what made it work. the blue, white, and green combined with these really cartoony designs does not work.

of the two of them, i think the green jersey is a little better just in terms of cohesion. i’ve always liked the whale in green more than any other color, and if you can ignore the clipart wave along the bottom, they’re not bad jerseys. hopefully they look better on the ice than they do in the mock ups.

metropolitan riveters

now, the rivs are no longer my favorite team for a variety of reasons, but their newest jersey set didn’t necessarily help their case. i really like the steel rosie rebrand, and think the new logos, especially that secondary mark, are really cool. but i can’t say the same about the new jerseys, especially after their awesome set last year (especially the aways, which i gushed about in my favorite nwhl jerseys breakdown). 

i’ll start with the new home whites. they pretty obviously draw from the new york rangers away jerseys, with the diagonal lettering and the stripes on the shoulder yoke being near-identical to the rangers. however, the arm stripes are different from the rangers, with a cluster of thin stripes mirroring the shoulder yoke stripes leading to a color-isolated cuff, and the rivs also don’t have a waist stripe. and then, of course, there’s the issue of the steel rosie logo watermark. i cannot stand this design element. i talk about it a little bit more when i go into the toronto six’s third jersey, but i can’t stand the watermark thing. it’s weird and it’s clunky and it just doesn’t look good. this jersey would be so much more effective without it. 

the away jerseys are nothing particularly special or unique, drawing heavily from classic hockey aesthetics for an effective look. again, the riveters borrow some of the rangers style, with some striping to create a faux shoulder yoke, as well as borrowing the exact striping pattern off the rangers’ aways. personally, the rangers inspiration is an interesting move for a team that was associated with the new jersey devils and now plays at the devils’ practice rink. however, steel rosie does take center stage on this jersey, which i like, because it’s a great logo. i think the little red accents are also a nice touch on the cuffs and especially the hem, because i hate it when jerseys and pants are the same color with no visual gap. this jersey is definitely the stronger of the two. 

minnesota whitecaps

i talked in detail about why i love the whitecaps’ home jersey in the aforementioned favorite nwhl jerseys breakdown, so go read that if you want my full thoughts. 

the away jersey has been the same jersey in use since the whitecaps joined the nwhl (now phf). all things considered, it’s a pretty simple jersey. black base, with the whitecaps logo big and front and center, and a blue, patterned shoulder yoke. interestingly, the shape of the yoke has actually changed in between seasons. it was rounded in 2018-19, squared off in 2019-20, then rounded again for 2021 and 2021-22. another thing to note about the pattern shoulder yoke is that the pattern is also on the side panels of the players’ shorts, giving a nice bit of visual consistency. i also like the minnesota state outline and wavy M shoulder patches- nwhl/phf jerseys tend to do a nice job with the shoulder patches. overall, i like this jersey, but there’s not a whole lot to it.

toronto six

i’m gonna talk about the home and away jerseys together because they’re essentially palette-swapped versions of each other. these jerseys are really simple. isolated cuff with some thin-thick-thin stripes on the arms is really the only design elements here. not to say the simplicity makes them bad, they’re effective jerseys, but there isn’t anything particularly interesting on here other than the really nice t6 logo. also unlike the previous jerseys, i’m not a fan of the shoulder patches. the canada flag is fine, but the “6ix” wordmark just strikes me as weird. 

then we get to the third jersey. i do not like this jersey. but what makes it so sad is that i would have loved it if they did one thing differently, and that one thing is removing the damn watermark pattern! i don’t know what the nwhl/phf jersey designers’ thing is with the watermarks (see: riveters), but they don’t look as good as you think they do. instead, it adds this clunky, unnecessary element to an otherwise good jersey! i love the six gold diagonal stripes on this jersey, and the white/gold/red color balance is done really well. i just can’t get past the watermark thing.

and that’s that for my 2021-22 phf jersey breakdown! what do you think about these jerseys? do you agree with me or disagree? what do you think of the new rivs and whale jerseys? i’m always up for other people’s jersey opinions.

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Gold Rush

Finally venturing into writing for Brock, and so excited to put this out there!! Very appreciative of the encouragement I’ve gotten throughout this from @brockadoodles who had (rightfully so, man deserves it) made loving Brock her BRAND. If there was any hockey who’s made to be a dad, it’s Brock Boeser, and I’ve genuinely loved getting to put this together. Love hearing feedback and what your favorite parts were, so reblog and pop into my inbox!

word count: 3.8k+

Brock had loved kids his whole life. Being around them, looking after them, the first day a kid asked him to autograph his jersey was burned into his brain alongside precious few other memories, most of the others involving you. And anyone who had ever seen him with Easton could tell that Brock Boeser loved babies. He had wanted kids since he was old enough to know what being a dad was, and knew so strongly that was a path he wanted — needed, honestly, there was too much love in his heart to not share it with everyone he could — that he wouldn’t ever have let things get serious with you if that wasn’t a life you wanted for yourself. Parenthood wasn’t for everyone, and he never held it against the women he had dated who didn’t want to be moms, but it was for Brock Boeser. 

He remembered the day he brought it up with you, his voice soft and hesitant as your head rested on his shoulder, a blanket thrown haphazardly over their laps as Return of the Jedi played on the TV. “Do you want kids someday?” Brock asked. He spoke gently, not wanting to scare you off with thoughts of the future coming too fast for you to handle, wondering if maybe seven months into a relationship was too early to bring up the type of commitment that lasted a lifetime. But he had to, had to protect himself from getting more invested and one more broken heart in a relationship that wasn’t just headed down the wrong set of train tracks, it was going the opposite way entirely. But, as you spoke, it turned out that he never had anything to worry about, and Brock wasn’t sure if he’d ever been more relieved in his life. 

“I do,” you said, looking up at his face, trying to read his expression. “Always have. Not sure how many, I’ve always thought two or three sounded good. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” 

Brock couldn’t help the way his heart absolutely swelled, the way you spoke of him in your future, with such ease and certainty as if you weren’t even entertaining a possibility that he wouldn’t be a part of it, that he wouldn’t be the one you would have children with. He twisted his neck, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. “We will.” 

So Brock loved kids, and you loved kids, and it had been established over a year before he put a ring on your finger that they were something in your future. You bought a four-bedroom in Shaughnessy, the idea being that one would be a guest room and two would be reserved for the kids, whenever they came along. “We can always add on,” Brock had said as you signed the papers, the real estate agent dropping the keys into your palm with a warm smile. And you knew that he would, you knew that Brock wanted as many kids as you were willing to give him. But you’d start with one. That was the plan. That was the plan, so a few months after you got back from your honeymoon in Scotland you went off of your birth control. Kids would happen when they happened, but you both knew you’d rather them sooner than later, and thus had begun your journey towards starting a family. That was the plan, so a year and a half ago you had swapped the pill for a stock of pregnancy tests, taking one a month and whenever you were feeling even slightly off for good measure, sure that your nausea and headache wasn’t the beginnings of a flu but rather your baby making themself known. 

When six months of trying came and went without a single positive test, you both started to get a little antsy, but you knew that these things took time, and you knew that it hadn’t been long enough for there to be any real cause for concern. But you still called your doctor, started exercising more and taking folic acid like she recommended, you and Brock both cutting down on your alcohol. “If you’ve got to do all this, it’s only fair I have to make some changes, too,” he had said. You loved your husband for many reasons, chief among them being the fact that no matter the circumstance, where you were or who you were with or how people were acting, he never made you feel like you were on your own. Everything was a team effort in the Boeser household. 

It was six months, and you were doing okay, and Brock was genuinely winning the award for the world’s best husband with how deftly he could calm you down every time you saw the words not pregnant show up on a pregnancy test, but then it hit a year of trying without success and you started to get worried. It was July, and you knew it was common in the NHL to try and time births for the offseason — if you got pregnant in the summer, your baby would have been born in the middle of a playoff push — but you honestly would have settled for any timing. So you visited a fertility specialist at the Mayo Clinic, a quiet recommendation Brock’s mom got from a friend’s daughter. You loved your own mom, but Laurie truly had been your saving grace in everything. A quiet, steady presence who offered more love and support than you could ever ask for, giving her advice only when asked and never once betraying your trust by telling anyone. But Dr. Gonzalez got the tests back, both yours and Brock’s, and said that nothing was wrong. “Unexplained infertility,” they called it. It was nothing anybody was doing wrong, nobody’s fault, not a matter of hormonal imbalances or obvious lifestyle factors or anything that would have let you blame it on yourself. Which, on one hand, was so good and so relieving, so desperately needed. You needed to know that it wasn’t your body, and it wasn’t Brock, that was keeping the two of you from finally being able to grow your family. But on the other hand, there were few things more hopeless or frustrating than hearing that they couldn’t find a cause. That meant that there wasn’t anything you could have done differently, true, but that also meant that there wasn’t anything you could do. It was a waiting game, and you were never good with being patient. 

Pregnancy scares were more common than people might know, if the experiences of you and your friends were anything to go by. There were high school boyfriends, college roommates, half of the people you knew had worried they were pregnant or had gotten someone pregnant far before they were ready. But now, when you were settled down and established and were building a life with the most amazing man you had ever had the fortune to love, and you wanted a baby, it wasn’t happening. The clinical definition of infertility was the “failure to achieve a clinical pregnancy after 12 months or more of regular unprotected sexual intercourse.” You had committed the definition to memory over the past 14 months, and whether you knew it or not, Brock had too. You had always been good at tests. Good grades, always the essay the teacher used as an example in class, graduated top of your class at UBC. But this was one test you couldn’t study for, and one you couldn’t believe you had failed time and time again. 

Which brought you to December, normally one of your favorite times of the year but one that you had recently begun noticing all the doom and gloom in that others had always mentioned when speaking about the winter months. You still loved the holidays, Christmas and New Year’s and everything in between, but you thought that in your second year as a married couple, you wouldn’t still be a family of two. It was a year and a half since you and Brock had started trying for a baby, and there was still no luck. It was a year and a half, and you had started talking about options. Vancouver had some amazing fertility specialists, and adoption was something you had discussed looking into, but you had both agreed on waiting a few more months before taking that route.  

---

Which brought you to almost three weeks later, two days before New Year’s Eve, your head in the toilet and your husband leaning up against the doorway. “God, I feel like shit,” you said, leaning up against the wall when your nausea had finally seemed to subside. “I bet, last time I threw up was our honeymoon,” he said, trying to make you laugh. Brock had insisted on trying haggis in Scotland, saying he needed the “full experience,” but regretted that decision as soon as he spent the better part of the second night of your honeymoon in the hotel bathroom throwing up from food poisoning. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, gratefully taking the cup of water Brock handed you as you leaned up against the bathroom counter. 

You caught his eyes searching yours as you set the glass down, his face wearing an expression you had come to know well in the four years you had been together. There was something on his mind, but he wasn’t sure if he should say it. “Yeah?” you prompted, raising your eyebrows. 

He gave a tiny shake of his head. “It’s nothing, seriously.” 

Now it was your turn to look at him. “Brock, it’s going to eat you up if you keep it all inside. Spit it out.” 

“How long has it been since you took a test?” Brock asked gently. 

You should have known. God, you should have known that’s where his mind would go, and the worst part of it all, the part that made you feel even worse for getting your husband’s hopes up that maybe this was finally it, maybe it had finally worked, was that you couldn’t even blame him. You had been snappier at Brock the past few days, something both you and he had attributed to your overall weariness about the whole process, you had to practically slap his hands away from your breasts the other night while you were having sex, and this wasn’t even the first time you had thrown up this week. But it was flu season, and you worked with kids, and seemed to catch it more years than not despite taking the flu shot religiously each October. You’d be looking for a missed period, but they had always been light and you had experienced some spotting when Brock was on a road trip the week before. 

You pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, shaking your head. “I don’t know...A month? A little over? I just hate that it’s getting so clinical, that’s not what it was supposed to be about, that’s never what it was supposed to be about.” 

Brock ran his hands up your arms, back and forth, the same way he had been comforting you for years. “I know, baby. And I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel that way, more stressed or disappointed in yourself, because it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. We’re going to have a baby one way or another, because I love you and I’ve never met anyone who’s more excited, and ready, and made to be a mom quite like you. And whether you have the baby yourself, or we adopt, or whatever path we decide is the right one for us, they’ll be ours, and they’ll be so loved.” Brock ghosted a kiss over your forehead, his eyes closing. “You don’t have to take another test if you don’t want to, the last thing I want to do is make you more anxious over all of this. But I think it might be good. I think it might help.” 

You breathed out deeply through your nose, shooting your husband a weak smile. God, he was so good to you. “I’ll tell you if I do.” 

Brock nodded, stepping towards you and wrapping you in his arms, whispering your name as he leaned his forehead against yours. “No matter what happens — tomorrow, next week, next year, I don’t care — nothing you do will ever make me love you any less. We’re good. We’re gonna be okay.” You could have filled a hundred books with the reasons why you loved Brock Boeser, and this was one of them. The way he loved you, so selflessly and sacrificially, without an ounce of ego and never expecting anything in return aside from your heart. You didn’t know what you had ever done in this life or any past one to deserve him, but there wasn’t a day you didn’t thank God for the privilege of letting you love this man. 

---

It was finally New Year’s Eve, festivities having taken over the city — really, they hadn’t stopped since Christmas — and hardly a flat surface was left undecorated with posters or metallic tinsel, or both for good measure, including almost the entirety of yours and Brock’s house. He had volunteered your place weeks ago as the site for the team’s New Year’s Eve party. It didn’t generally draw a crowd as big as the holiday party earlier in the month, which usually had not only the players’ partners, but children and whatever family was visiting at the time, so Brock had asked if you’d be willing, and you agreed easily. You loved getting to spend time with the team, and you were even more inclined than usual to gravitate towards any kind of distraction that would take your mind off of the stress you were under. The stress that you put yourself under, to be fair. So you threw yourself into planning and preparation, pulling out the ice chest from the garage and filling it up, making sure people were bringing enough champagne, cleaning every inch of the house with Brock until it was spotless despite the fact that you both knew you’d have to do the same thing in the morning. 

Some two and a half hours into the party and most everyone who was drinking was sufficiently drunk, the TV in the living room flipping back and forth between the broadcast from Times Square and Youtube karaoke that nearly everyone had been roped into at some point or another. You sipped your soda, half-sitting on one of your barstools next to Holly. “You’re not drinking?” she asked curiously. 

“I had some earlier, trying to pace myself” you said, waving your hand. “Someone’s got to look after that one.” You nodded towards Brock, who was having what looked to be the time of his life in your living room while badly singing along to One Direction. Holly nodded. You knew she probably wanted to ask more, but she was too tactful to push. “It’s so nice to see them all like this, just letting loose, having fun. It’s hard to remember sometimes that these are just guys in their 20s and 30s when they’re constantly off travelling or away at games, doing things most people their age only dreamed of. They don’t get the chance to be normal hardly ever. And the season can get stressful...It’s just good to see,” you said. 

“It is,” she agreed. 

You checked your phone. Twelve minutes till midnight. “You want to help me get the champagne ready?” 

Holly smiled. “Let’s do it.” 

Nearly twenty flutes of champagne later — you had no idea where Brock had managed to find all of the glasses — you walked around the corner, your head poking into the living room. “Champagne’s in the kitchen, everybody. Five minutes till midnight!” 

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Brock said, leaning in for a kiss after walking over. 

You scrunched your nose. “Babe. It hasn’t even been ten minutes.” The second you had gotten back from refilling your drink earlier, Brock had dragged you into what turned out to be a very endearing but not-so-successful rendition of I’ve Had the Time of My Life in the living room, minus the lift. He wanted to go for it, and you trusted your husband with everything, but you really didn’t feel like spending your New Year’s Eve in the ER after having crashed into the Christmas tree. Dirty Dancing was one of the first movies you had ever watched together, so there was more than a little meaning behind the choice, but you doubted you were exactly making Jennifer Grey proud. 

“Ten minutes away from you is ten minutes too long,” he said, nuzzling his head into your neck. 

The fingers of your free hand carded through the hairs at the base of his neck; you loved it when he let his hair grow out like this. “Okay, babe, I believe you. How much have you had to drink tonight?” 

Brock pulled back, rolling his eyes at you in exaggeration. “Only two beers since the night started. I’m not drunk, I’m not even tipsy, I just love my wife.”

“Could be worse,” you quipped. You squeezed his hand as the two of you walked into the kitchen, after half of the guests had already grabbed their flutes and made their way back into the living room for the countdown. Grabbing your drink from the other side of the counter, you held it in your far hand as you and Brock turned back around, taking your place by the Christmas tree. You glanced towards the TV, where the Times Square ball was slowly inching towards the ground. “Anyone else think it’s a little weird that we’re all staring at a TV waiting for something to happen that already happened 3 hours ago?” 

“I don’t believe in tape delay,” Elias said. 

Quinn nodded seriously in agreement, but the corner of his mouth twitched up. “It doesn’t exist. That little notice in the corner, saying ‘this is a recording of an earlier broadcast? Fake.” 

You snorted into your glass as everyone’s attention turned back to the screen. Three minutes till midnight. “I was a little apprehensive at first when you said you’d put us down to host,” you said, leaning back into Brock’s chest, “but I’m glad you did. This is nice.” 

“I’m glad we’ve got everyone around,” he said, looking down at you. “What are you drinking?” he asked curiously. He hadn’t noticed before, too caught up in the euphoria and exhilaration of the night, but the more he looked at it, the more he realized that your glass looked different than everyone else’s. 

“Sparkling cider,” you said, your heart rate picking up. “I brought it in case any of the kids came.” 

“But there was plenty of champagne left?” Brock questioned. “We’re at our own house, it’s not like you need to be playing designated driver.” You let out an airy laugh, the kind that made Brock’s eyes immediately snap to yours because he knew you so well, he could read even the slightest actions, the smallest shift in tone, and he knew what that particular laugh meant. It was your nervous laugh. “What is it?” he asked, guiding you around the corner to the darkened hallway, the residual glimmer of the lights from the Christmas tree glowing softly on the walls. 

You looked up at him, the purest most radiant smile you had ever given him crossing over your face. “You’re not supposed to drink when you’re pregnant,” you whispered,  your top lip trembling and letting you know that you were only moments away from tears. 

Brock was speechless as he looked at you, the near-silence of the hallway a strange contrast to the growing noise in the living room as the clock ticked closer and closer to the new year. “And you’re...You’re not drinking because…” He faltered. 

You gently took both of your glasses, setting them on a side table before taking his left hand in your own, running your thumb over his wedding band. “I’m not drinking because I’m pregnant, Brock,” you repeated, your voice cracking. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. You felt a twinge in your heart, but you knew you really couldn’t be upset with him for not being sure. It had been a year and a half and there had been more than once where you both thought it was finally it, that it had finally taken. 

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I took a test the other day, after you had asked me if I was going to. God, I wasn’t expecting anything different, Brock. I wasn’t expecting anything,” you said. “But three minutes was up, and I turned the test over,” his hand tightened almost imperceptibly around yours, “and I saw a plus sign. I’ve never seen one before, Brock, it’s never been positive.” You didn’t realize you had started crying until Brock reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding yours, wiping away a tear that had fallen onto your cheek. “But I didn’t want to get my hopes up again. Not until I was sure. So I found a midwifery center online, called — thank God they had a cancellation — and went in yesterday. I wanted to get it confirmed, but I didn’t want to do anything without you. I didn’t even look at the ultrasound, all I had her tell me was that everything looked absolutely perfect for seven weeks along.” 

It was your husband’s turn for tears now, neither of you paying any mind to the deafening countdown that was happening just steps away. “You’re really pregnant?” 

You nodded again. “We have an appointment again in two days. They’re going to show us the heartbeat.” 

That was what broke him, bringing Brock down to his knees in front of you, his hand slipping from yours as he brought it up to rest on your lower stomach. Where his baby was. Where your baby was. “I’m finally going to be a dad,” he said, as if the knowledge that both of your lives would be changed forever come next July was just now hitting him, as if he’d never known purpose and fulfillment quite on the same level until you spoke those words to him. 

You knelt down next to him, dropping a kiss on his lips just as the clock struck midnight. It wasn’t like any kiss you had ever shared before, not overwhelmed with passion or desire or want, nor the small, steady sort of kisses you had grown to love in your years as a married couple, the kind that said you’re my best friend in not so many words. This was a kiss of adoration, of devotion, of pure reverence for your husband and the life you had finally created together. “We’re having a baby.”