#shut up tage

[ghostsessioned]

y’know what jean jacket’s roar sounds like ? the sound heard around the world. the trumpets. the angels.

[bravertzposts]

"Pech im Spiel, Glück in der Liebe" "Ja aber du hast Pech in beidem"...das sind so Sachen, die kann auch nur dein bester Freund sagen, der gerade seine Hochzeit plant, während man selbst Single ist 😂

DAS HAT ER NICHT GESAGT

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the sun

Previous chapter .

a/n This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. This chapter has both Azriel’s and Y/N povs. ✨

I have a feeling that this might just be the end.

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Zofie’s pov:

She was sitting by the fire. A dog with chestnut fur had been looking at her ever since she spent a solid while scratching his ear. Legs dangling as she looked over the unfamiliar living room. Or what she assumed was one. “Here, drink this," her uncle said stepping into the doorway, a glass in hand. He had taken her to his, or more likely, Eris's, mansion. Why? She didn’t know. She wanted to go home. To mom and dad at least, but Lucien had made her stay.

“How are you feeling?”, he asked softly, kneeling in front of her as if she were some child. But then again... How was she feeling? Zofie tried not to focus on the emotions raging within her. One battling the other. Making her feel dizzy and nauseous. Because whatever was brewing deep within her chest felt more like a roller coaster than anything else.

“Flustered and uneasy”, it came out more as a question than a statement, but since she didn’t know any better, in a way she waited for a nod or an agreement that was exactly how she was meant to feel. “He’s probably clawing at the ground." Zofie’s head turned to Eris, who was swirling a drink in his hands. “Shut up, Eris," Lucien growled.

“Nyx?”, Zofie quickly cut in, “You’re talking about Nyx?” She wasn’t sure why, but even the sound of his name leaving her lips made her tingly. Lucien sighed hesitantly. From the way the grayish-blue tint painted his palms, he was nervous.

“Uncle Luci, is this an illness? He had a fever," Zofie cut in, a wave of anxiety slamming into her chest. “No, no, it’s...", Lucien ran a hand through his hair before twisting the ends. The sound of the glass being placed on the table was followed by Eris’s voice, “You found your mate, girl", "Eris," Lucien hissed.

Zofie shook her head, “We’re just friends." She had read about mates. How hard was it to find one. How long did it take. She had seen her married parents. The way Azriel understood Y/N without words. Images of the night Zofie had run away flooded her mind. How Nyx had found her. He always seemed to find her when she needed him most.

“Look at your cheeks, girl," Eris chuckled. “You blush at the thought of him. Not to mention that his scent is all over you; he sure as hell wanted you to be his." The lordling pointed his glass at Zofie before taking a sip. If she was blushing beforehand, now she had to be a deep shade of crimson. She didn’t know what she felt on her skin. The comforting scent. Whatever it was it was warming her from the outside. And she had no idea that it had anything to do with Nyx.

"Eris," Lucien hissed for what felt like a thousand times before turning to her. “Look, Zofie, nothing is set in stone, but..." he said softly, clearly trying to ease her daze. “You said he chased you when you ran,” Lucien asked after a heartbeat. Zofie simply nodded. “Mother, I can’t believe I’ll have to ask." He grunted more to himself as he ran a hand over his face.

“Was there a part of you that didn’t want to run or found that run thrilling?”, Eris’s words once again slammed into her. As if trying to break the glass, all the emotions were still simmering beneath. To let loose the feeling that was clawing at her from within. Lucien had turned to his brother so quickly that even Zofie felt the swoosh of air hitting her face. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel the way he was burning red, and the look was anything but pleasant. “What? I’m simply voicing what’s on your mind”, the oldest Vanserra shrugged. Whatever Lucien grumbled to him in return, she didn’t understand.

“Zofie, this can be overwhelming. Finding a mate…," Lucien had started, but she quickly cut in. “We can’t; this is not," she said, shaking her head. Yes, he has been there ever since. Yes, everyone had teased him about the way he had always been swooned by her. Yes, every memory she had was somehow interlinked with him. But…

“You need to breathe, hun; I already reached out to your mom." Zofie felt Lucien’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll do a much better job than us explaining this to you." He smiled softly at her, but she still shook her head. “He’s a prince, and I... I don’t have anything, and we never will. Never," she said, wrapping her arms around herself, frowning. "Zofie," Lucien called out sympathetically. “It’s a gift, girl; many die never experiencing a touch of their true lover," Eris cut into her panic, making it all halt for a moment as she stared at him and he right back at her. “Feel it out and then take control of it," he said firmly.

Nyx’s pov:

“Zofie”, he had been searching in the woods for what felt like forever. Dropping in the cold flow of the lake. Zofie was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Nyx couldn’t see her. He couldn’t find her in his consciousness. Couldn’t winnow to her. But every single cell in his body burned with her. Ached for her. Making him frantic and clumsy as he flew over and over the place she had just simply disappeared from.

"Zofie!" he shouted once more. "Nyx”,’the sound of his name made him turn around quickly, but the relief soon turned into anger. "No, you can’t be here," he hissed at the sight of his father. All dressed in black, looking down on him. No, he wasn’t going to share this with him.

“It’s okay, bud; we want to help," Cassian stepped from behind Rhys, followed by Azriel, and yet another wave of panic hit him like a stone. "No, you will take her away," Nyx hissed, pulling back. “Pull yourself together," Rhys snarled, his eyes burning holes in Nyx.

"Rhysand," Cassian warned as Nyx bared his teeth at his father. Panting frantically. “Hey, look at me," Azriel called out, but not in the way that Nyx was used to. A softer version of that. An understanding one. “I didn’t hurt her, I promise," Nyx muttered, shaking his head at the burn in his eyes. “I know, it’s okay," Azriel reassured him as he stepped closer.

“I need to find her. What if something happened?”, Another load of panic slammed into him, making Nyx cave into himself. "Nyx, she’s safe; we know where she is, bud," Cassian said softly, and while those words should have put Nyx at ease, he felt anger rising within him. Why did they do it? Why didn’t they tell him? Were they keeping her away?

“Take me to her right now," he demanded, pointing his finger at them in a warning. “You need to calm down first," Azriel told him. “I'm calm," he reassured his uncle, even if he was practicing shaking. “Do you know what’s going on?”, Rhys asked. A mixture of sadness lingered in his eyes. “Nothing is going on," Nyx snarled back before adding, “I think I'm going to go mad." His hands reached up to tug at his onyx's hair.

“That’s the mating bond," Rhys said so casually as if this wasn’t a life-altering thing. Nyx’s eyes grew wide as he shook his head. “Don’t act like you didn’t know, you were enamored with her when you were kids," Rhys said firmly. “I found your sketchbooks; she’s all you’ve been drawing.”.

It felt as if Nyx’s chest was hallowed out and then forced full of rage. “You knew?”, he hissed through clenched teeth. “Of course I knew," Rhys groaned angrily, pulling at the collar of his button-up. “And yet you still threw me in the embrace of all the other girls?” Nyx was shouting now, ready to claw at his father’s face. But Cassian rested a palm on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“I was trying to distract you," Rhys replied, “You’re too young to mate; look at yourself." He guessed at him as if he were nothing. Nothing more but a mess. “I will kill you," Nyx shouted, ripping away from Cassian, “I will leave you in ribbons." Azriel hand caught him around his middle, his shadows wrapping him up in a cold blanket.

“Think about Zofie, Nyx," he whispered to the boy. “Pull yourself together for her." And even if he still looked at Rhys with nothing but disgust, the panting eased. “Leave Rhys," Cassian said with a shake of his head. The high lord was about to argue, but it was Azriel who had cut in, “Just go; we got this." Something like disagreement and guilt rushed through Rhys’s face, but he didn’t say a single thing. Casting one more look at his son before winnowing away.

“I need to see her," Nyx said as soon as his father had disappeared. “You will once you find control within yourself," Azriel muttered as he let him go. “I can’t breathe without her," Nyx admitted, his hands gripping at his throat as if he wanted to claw another air passage. The two males looked at each other for a second. “Even when she’s not with you, a part of her is always there," Cassian said attentively, motioning for Nyx to come sit by the river's edge with him. “That part is your leverage," Azriel added, also joining them in the grass. “Your northern star, if you will, it’s something that will always guide you." Nyx simply nodded his head as he listened. “And that’s the thing that will let you feel her when you’re apart," Cassian said, throwing a rock into the rippling water.

“But that’s been there for years..." Nyx admitted, placing a hand on his chest where that little flame had been sparkling ever since he first laid eyes on Zofie. At that time, he was too young to even distinguish between the emotions, but now he knew that it had been there all along. “You’re one lucky bastard to have found a mate before even reaching a hundred," Cassian chuckled, shoving Nyx’s shoulder slightly.

“I don’t know how to take care of her like that," he shrugged, the self-doubt nearly choking him. “Yes, you do," Azriel said firmly, “In your own ways, you’ve been taking care of our girl for years," Nyx felt at ease in Azriel’s words. A father had been protecting his daughter, and he could understand that. But knowing that a part of Azriel trusted Nyx enough to let him be close to Zofie was the biggest achievement in his books.

“This just adds extra spice," Cassian said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Cassian," Azriel growled in a warning. “What? They will fuck," his uncle shrugged. Both Azriel and Nyx turned to him with a growl. “My god, I will kill you," Azriel said, shaking his head. “Don’t talk about her like that, you pig," Nyx added with a snarl. But Cassian was grinning from ear to ear, “See, perfectly capable of taking care of her.”

Your pov:

You had been rubbing your palms together as you walked across the living room back and forth. If not for Novie, who from time to time demanded some attention, you would have probably walked a hole on the floor. You felt Azriel before he had even walked through the front door. Quickly rushing to get to the entrance. “And?”, you clasped your hands on your chest as you awaited your mate's words. “He’s okay; I’m confident that he can hold his own," Azriel said, shrugging off his jacket. “This is so exciting," you chirped, smiling from ear to ear as Azriel stepped closer, cupping your cheek.

“I mean, considering that she ended up in autumn, it’s not too thrilling," Azriel pointed out, leaning in to brush his lips over yours. "Oh, stop! Lucien is an angel." You hit Azriel’s chest softly. Lucien had been a big part of your family too. Azriel was the one who had wanted to burn any bridges that led to Elain, but you had been quick to remind him that Lucien had nothing to do with it.

“Eris is not." Azriel grumbled, but you brushed his words off, cupping his face in your palms, “Our girl found her mate." And even if you knew how hard it was for Azriel to let go of Zofie, he couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto his face.

“Madja said that it’s been over six hundred years since she’s seen a bond snapping so early on," Azriel said quietly, but his face soon matched the giddy excitement on your face. “Gosh, their wedding will be stunning. We can...", “Yeah, no wedding planning yet, don’t want to think about that," Azriel pulled you closer, clasping a hand over your mouth as you giggled.

"Mom," a quiet voice got you two pulling apart as you gazed at Zofie. Lucien right beside her. "Oh, my darling, my big girl," you sighed, closing the distance between you both and wrapping her up in your arms. “I didn’t...", she quickly shook her head apologetically. “Don’t you dare apologize for the gift Mother granted you?" You pulled back slightly and cupped her rosy cheeks. “Not all of us are lucky to find our other half so quickly." You could see the conflict raging within her, yet she still nodded before glancing to the side, “Papa…”

It was more of a whisper than a call. Yet Azriel’s eyes softened intensely as he opened his arms to her. You nudged her slightly. Her first steps were unsure, but then she practically ran to him. Azriel instantly wrapped her up. His wings followed the motion. Their happy little bubble. Like it had been from day one.

“As long as you occasionally come back for a cuddle and my pies," he muttered against her hair, making her chuckle slightly. “It seems like yesterday you were no bigger than my palm, and now look at you." Azriel shook his head, looking at his daughter. You could tell that he was fighting the urge to cry. Zofie had been one of the things that brought Azriel back to life. A big part of his demons died when she appeared. And knowing that for so long she had needed him like air and now she was able to stand on her own two feet no doubt felt bittersweet.

“You’ll always be my little star," he muttered, pressing his forehead to hers. “Even with Novie?” Zofie asked. That almost desperate plea to still be important enough is burning within her. “Especially with her," Azriel promised. “I’ll always be your wings, remember?” She nodded eagerly, warping her arms around his neck as he hugged him as best as her tiny frame allowed her. “Come on now; your boy is probably mixing sky and earth together," Azriel nudged her. Zofie’s cheeks grew red immediately. “He’s not my boy," she argued back. “Boyfriend?”, you chirped in with a smirk. "Mom," Zofie growled, “not you too.”.

Nyx’s pov:

Nyx had been walking back and forth for what felt like an eternity. His father. Rhys. Rhys had been the one to suggest that he should be separated from Zofie for some time. For caution, he had said. His mother had tried to interfere, but the high lord had decided. Nyx was prepared to rage. To fight, but it was Azriel who had stepped in. Azriel, who had disagreed with the decision, in that moment Nyx felt like kneeling in front of his uncle so he could say thank you. Zofie was under Azriel’s protection; she was his daughter, so his word in the matter was final.

And now here he was in the house of wind. Jumping up at any and every sound. He was also more than aware that Zofie had a right not to come at all. He knew that she very well might not want to do anything with him. She might just be terrified of him. He would be terrified of himself too. Maybe he even was. Never before had he completely let his feelings for her take over. Never had felt as if parting was a death wish.

"Hey," his whole world shifted, tilted, and tuned over with one single word. He wasn’t even sure if he could turn around. To look at her without wanting to hold her. Without wanting to touch her. "Nyx," Zofie breathed as if reading his struggles. She stepped around him to stand right in front of him. It felt both like a salvation and a curse to be so close to her. “I’m afraid to touch you," he rasped out, drowning in her golden eyes for a heartbeat too long. Quickly turning his head to the side. "Nyx," she muttered under her breath, stepping closer to him. “I don’t want to hurt you," he pleaded, stepping back.

“You wouldn’t, couldn’t, you've"—her voice was so soft and comforting, but he couldn’t let it take over. “I chased you," he said firmly. He lready hate that part of him. That moment. And she knew it too. Knew that he would use that to beat himself up. “You didn’t know... We didn’t know what that was," she said, stopping the emphasis on the word we, and something deep and primal flustered within him. “You were so warm, I thought it was a fever of some sort." There was so much worry in her voice. So much concern he wished he could chase away. But he just didn’t trust himself to move.

“Relax your fists," Zofie breathed, and only now did he realize that he had been clenching his hands so tightly that they were white. “I can't," Nyx muttered through clenched teeth. “Yes, you can. It’s just me," she said, reaching out to him, but Nyx backed away once again. Back hiring the wall. He brushed his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I don’t deserve you," he crocked under his breath. “Don’t be silly," Zofie said firmly, pretty much closing the distance between them.

He knew this was mutual. He knew that, in the same way, he would never touch her without her permission. She would never touch him without his. He knew the question was coming before it had even grazed her lips. “Can I touch you?" she whispered. Nyx could feel her eyes on him. "Zof." He wasn’t sure at this point who exactly he was warning. “Just your cheek," she pleaded, and he had made a mistake when he let his eyes find hers. The last strings holding him back snapped as he nodded. She smiled up at him, carefully brushing her warm fingers against his cheek. Nyx had never understood what his mother and aunts had in mind when they said that their partners purred. But he was a heartbeat away from that, as he leaned closer to her.

“Not so bad, huh?", Zofie teased with a smile, and the moment she had moved her palm away, Nyx grasped it in his palm, resting it back on his cheek. “Your touch is a heaven," he muttered, letting himself soak her in, “You’re so fucking pretty." Her cheeks bloomed with crimson at his words. "Stop!", she chuckled under her breath. “As pretty as the sun," Nyx whispered with so much love that his chest hurt, “You’re my sun. Chasing all the bad away." Zofie inhaled shakily, her bottom lip trembling as she watched him.

“Kiss me," she said all of a sudden, stepping on her very tiptoes so she could reach him better. "Sunny," he said, shaking his head. Having her so close was already too much. "Please," she begged, her big golden eyes leaving him defenseless. “I don’t know if..." Nyx had started to argue. But she killed the distance between them. She was the one kissing him. And it’s like the heaven gate has opened. As if someone dunked his head in the purest form of love. It felt as if tiny needles were prickling his skin. But most importantly, he felt as if he was alive—so alive. Alive like never before. “Do you know how long I wanted to do this?", Nyx pulled away sheepishly, licking his lips as he looked down at her flustered form. “Less talking, more action," Zofie chirped with a grin of her own as she held onto his neck, chuckling as he pulled her in by her hips. “Forever?”, Nyx asked, right by her lips, practically feeling the beat of her heart. "Forever," Zofie muttered breathlessly. She had barely touched his lips when Nyx scooped her up in his arms, making her squeal. She didn’t need to ask where he was talking to her when the air around her grew colder. The lake house had become theirs from day one. There were too many conversations. Too many memories. Too many lingering touches filled that space for it to be anyone but theirs.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @sirenpearldust @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @naturakaashi @stressed-reader @woodland-mist @goldenmagnolias @nocasdatsgay @lees-chaotic-brain @elle4404 @azrielsmate3

[dmercer91]

nhlers as ultra specific things

this is basically a list of nd lore as nhler hcs

cause it makes them feel more human and i feel like that’s a good thing

pls add on or feel free to challenge my choice of player <3

michael bunting bites his nails

matthew tkachuk messes with his eyebrows and eyelashes

luke hughes picks at scabs and acne

dawson mercer pokes his tongue out when he’s focused

nico hischier picks at his nails

trevor zegras plays with a rubber band when he’s unsure

mitch marner tells stories and forgets the point

mark estapa chews on his hoodie strings

rutger mcgroarty zones out so hard he doesn’t catch what people say to him

freddie andersen cracks his knuckles when he’s uncomfortable

william nylander picks at / messes with the cuffs on his long sleeve shirts

john gibson doesn’t like eye contact but makes a point of doing it in case he seems rude 

seamus casey says ‘huh?’ only to properly answer a question without it being repeated

jamie drysdale doesn’t like it when his food touches

elias pettersson shuts down when he’s overwhelmed

jack hughes scrolls on his phone with his mouth over the caps of his water bottles

andrei svechnikov jumbles english and russian when he’s flustered

pyotr kochetkov gets migraines

auston matthews hates his laugh

john marino thinks he’s the king of sarcasm but misses most sarcastic comments

cole caufield has a hard time reading when it’s his turn to speak and often cuts people off or misses his window

tage thompson responds to compliments with an extremely awkward grin and an enthusiastic thumbs up

owen power pushes up his glasses only to find out they’re not even on his face

ryan graves has a good singing voice but his voice will absolutely never see the light of day

sidney crosby smiles and nods when he could not have less of a clue what’s going on

rasmus sandin consistently trips over his own feet

dougie hamilton often says ‘thanks, you too’ when a non hockey player tells him he played well

ethan edwards wanders off mid conversation if he hasn’t spoken in a while without even realizing

arber xhekaj complains consistently about one thing and when he’s given a completely reasonable solution he refuses the advice

kent johnson draws on his arms

gavin brindley has a really niche/uncommon skill and is completely baffled when others are impressed

alex turcotte struggles doing groceries cause he’ll only buy what he’s currently craving

timothy liljegren has a good memory but only because he can associate things he needs to remember to the absolute most random third party aspect ever

connor mcdavid will enter a room with a task to complete and stand in the doorway buffering cause he can’t remember what it was

leon draisaitls hands are always cold

logan cooleys room is really messy but he can remember that he has a pack of gum in his black sweatpants that are on the far left corner of his floor under the red shirt. if the gum is moved to an appropriate place for gum it will never be touched again

connor bedard laughs at really bad jokes out of pity (or cause he doesn’t get it and he feels like he should)

quinn hughes has no social battery unless he’s with his person - in which case he is on crack

[forestshadow-wolf]

Rules: in a new post, post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how nondescriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet and tell us about it!

Taged by the amazing @losersimonriley

Only doing the ones I've worked on recently (it's a lot of angst)

1. Hurt people hurt people

2. Soap vocal dysphoria

3. Shotgunning and handjobs

4. Watched pots

5. Classic shut-up soap

Tags: @the-starry-raven @azilver @resident-idiot-simp @reds-skull @myriadblvck uhhh anyone else who wants to join (I tried not to double tag people 😅)

[ringanon]

Date Night | Tyson Jost

Pairing: TJ17 x fem!PotteryTeacher!reader

Warning(s): none (this is so damn cute)

Word Count: 2974

Summary: Part 2 to this blurb, cute dates, adorable humans

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Well, at least he wasn't late.

You also didn't expect him to be almost 20 minutes early

Luckily, you had your makeup done and were half dressed when he knocked on the door, "Give me a minute!" 

You partially ran to the front door. Tyson was smiling on the other side, holding a bouquet of roses, "Hi," he took a moment, "oh my god, I'm so sorry-"

"No, Tyson, it's okay, you had no idea." You stepped to the side to let him into your apartment, "I'm almost done, I promise, most guys who pick me up for dates are always late."

he shook his head, nodding his head towards the hallway, a gentle okay to go finish getting ready. You came back out 10 minutes later in a black dress, it was your favorite. You walked back out to the living room and saw Tyson still standing in the foyer, "Tyson, you could have sat down."

"I know, but I didn't wanna-" he turned around to face you, "wow, you look- you look amazing."

"Thank you, I really appreciate it." you walked up and met him in the foyer, moving your earring and putting it in a good place. 

He handed you the roses in his hand, "I bought these for you, I didn't know your favorite ones, so I figured these were the best bet."

"Tyson Jost, you're the sweetest," You thanked him again, "I'm going to go put these in water, I will be in 2 seconds."

A few minutes later, he was following you out the door, shutting the door behind him. He walked ahead of you down the stairs, opened the front door of your building and let you hold his arm to walk you to your car. You chatted the whole way down, he talked about his family back home, you talked about yours. There was a pleasant conversation about living in Buffalo on the stroll through the parking lot. Tyson took an extra long stride in front of you while you dropped your hand from his arm. Tyson grabbed the door handle of his car and opened up the passenger side door for you. you smiled up at him and kissed his cheek, "thank you, darling."

you saw his cheeks flush a deep shade of red and mumble out a response. You couldn't make out exactly what it was, but you figured it was some variation of 'no problem' or 'you're welcome.' 

You giggled as you watched him take a brisk jog around the front of the car and slip into the driver's side.  The drive to the restaurant was mostly you asking him where you were going and him refusing to tell you, "It's a surprise."

"Oh come on, Tyson!" you laughed, "not even a hint?"

"Tage recommended it, and said it was his and his wife's favorite place."

"Oh good! Which means this is either going to be the most expensive Italian restaurant in Buffalo or we're going to McDonald's."

"Hey, don't knock McDonald's' ' He lifted up his hand and pointed a finger at you, dropping it back on the center console immediately after.

"Oh no way! Professional Athlete Tyson Jost is a McDonald's fan?" You turned your body towards him and clapped your hand on the center console over his. Your mouth was agape, eyes wide.

"Yes! I enjoy a good drunk Big Mac, don't tell me you don't?" 

"I'm indifferent about it." You crossed your arms over your chest, sitting back in your seat, waiting impatiently for his response. 

"Okay, next date is going to be McDonald's." he tightened his hand around the steering wheel.

"You're already planning our next date? You don't even know how this one is going!" You laughed, looking over at him, admiring the way the moonlight poured in to the car, how the headlights from passing cars lit up his face, extenuating his jawline and the million-dollar-smile plastered across his face, "I could eat like a pig, I could chew with my mouth open, I could be rude to the wait-staff. You don't know any of this! At this point, I have to assume you've already rented a UHaul to move me into your place-"

"Hey, that actually isn't a bad idea, grab my phone." He smiled even bigger now. His eyes were still glued on the road, but you saw his hand creeping over the center console out of the corner of your eye. 

In the midst of the laughing fit you both had, your hand found his again, this time,wrapping your hand around his fingers. His thumb, maybe unconsciously, rubbed soft circles across yours. Both of you noticed, neither of you were willing to move. 

When you pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, the place was packed. It was one of the nicest, and most expensive, places in Buffalo, "Tyson-"

"I don't wanna hear it." He said, opening his door and stepping out. You sat in awe until Tyson opened your door, offering you a hand, "it's okay, it's not gonna be that bad, I promise."

You let him help you out of the car, didn't say a word about the way you caught him staring at you when you stepped out, and certainly didn't say anything about the hand on your back guiding you to the door. He held open the door for you, you took a step in front of him, "no kiss this time?"

"maybe next time." you laughed, turning back around to look at him. The smile on his face told you he WAS actually just joking, even if the tinge in the bottom of your gut told you otherwise. 

The crowd in the foyer was a little alarming and incredibly overwhelming. Luckily, Tyson ended up having a reservation. There was something about him using his last name as the name for it, with a hand clasped tightly around you that felt oddly domestic.  The walk to the table felt like a lifetime. Tyson was right behind you, and laughed a little when you opened your hand behind you and waved it at him. He took his hand in yours, "I'm right here, you're okay." 

His voice was soft and reassuring. He pulled out a chair for you, let you sit down, and sat across the table from you. 

Dinner went so smoothly, you spent the entire night anxious. It felt almost too good to be true; something was bound to happen.  The conversation never faltered; there was something so easy about being around Tyson. You couldn't tell if it was that his first impression of you was being covered in clay or that there was some weird dynamic around you two that preceded tonight. Either way, it felt like you had an endless amount of things to talk about, like you knew his family personally, like he was best friends with your brother, and knew your hometown like the back of his hand. You laughed over a bottle of wine and the best pasta you've ever had in your life. When dessert was eaten, and the bill was paid, after a slight disagreement about who would pay, you both walked out of the restaurant. 

When Tyson opened the passenger side door for you, you smiled. Leaning over, you grabbed his face in your hands and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Good redemption arch."

You smiled up at him and laughed, "thank you! I figured you would chirp at me for it again if I didn't."

You saw his shoulders rise and fall, a breathy laugh released from his nose, as he shut the door. After he was situated in the driver's seat, he put his hand on the steering wheel and paused, "I know, realistically, the next step is to drop you off at your house, but I really don't want this to end."

"Just because you drop me back off at my place doesn't mean you have to leave immediately after." Tyson outweighed his options next to you. He could drop you off and leave immediately after and save himself from undeniably falling in love with you, or he could stay awhile, maybe watch a movie over a glass of wine or whiskey, continue on with the conversation, and maybe kiss you at the end of the night before he leaves. 

"You bring up good points, but I'm not sold." He turned to face you, resting his back against the door of the car.

You copied his actions, looking at him, "Well, if you stay, we could watch a movie, I just bought a really good bottle of wine that I think you'll like, you get to brag about how you're a professional hockey player and I get to brag about how I'm actually good at making pots." 

He chose to ignore the subtle dig, "I like the way you think." 

Tyson slipped the seatbelt over his shoulder and drove out of the parking lot. There was a comfortable silence on the way back to your apartment; his hand sat on the center console, tapping his fingers on the leather to the beat of the song playing softly on the radio. You were hyper-aware of the hand placement, and also of how nice his hands were. There were an endless amount of possibilities to chirp him for giving you hints that he wanted you to hold his hand. You wanted to put your hand on top of his and let him curl his fingers around yours, however, you were fearful for the way your boss and his teammates would take the news of your date. You weren't sure who all he had told, and you knew you didn't want to tell anyone from your social circles until well after the Sabres' pots were out of the kiln. 

By the time you had made it back to your apartment building, you had rested on the fact that you didn't want to take tonight too far. Not like you were going to anyway, but there was something in the back of your mind that wanted to make out with him on your couch.

The walk back up to your apartment was full of a pleasant conversation (and maybe a little arguing) over what movie to watch when you got up there. Horror movies were not a good first-date movie, rom-coms felt like too much, and comedies felt too cheesy. Ultimately you decided to just bite the bullet and give Tyson the choice, "I would be fine with just sitting on your couch and talking to you, we don't have to watch a movie."

You blushed as you unlocked your apartment, "that works perfectly fine, too." 

The clock on the wall read 8:17, it was earlier than you thought it was going to be, but you liked the prospect of having more time with Tyson. 

When the door opened and both of you had taken a step inside, you were overwhelmed with the idea of this becoming a routine. It felt wrong to be thinking of living with him this early on, but you couldn't shake the idea from your mind. 

You take a step into the door of your apartment, motioning to the little table by the door for Tyson to drop the keys to your apartment and the rest of his things. Your shoes come off almost immediately after. Your hand braces the wall for stability to slide your heels off, you ignore the hand on your back, "oh my god I feel human again."

Tyson laughs and lets you lead him into the kitchen, "so what is this wine that you talk highly of?"

He found a place at the kitchen island, sitting on one of the bar stools.

"I have a Merlot here that I bought a few weeks ago, hoping that I'd have a couple friends over for a girls night or something, but I never got the chance to open it. You grab the bottle and set it on the counter in front of him, "what do you think?"

"I think the idea of drinking wine with you on the couch that I'm building in my head is hot as fuck."

You laugh, "I hope I'm fully clothed in this image."

"You are, I'll have you know. That's a third date kinda thing."

"Okay, so the second date is us moving in together and the third date is us having sex on the couch? What's our fourth date?"

"The courthouse, obviously-" The laugh you let out is disgusting. If it were anyone else sitting at the kitchen island, you would have blushed and apologized for the swamp-witch cackle that just left your mouth. Lucky for you, it's just Tyson.

Just Tyson. The thought plagues your mind as you open the bottle of wine. Especially when he offers to do it for you. Just Tyson has treated you with nothing but respect the entire night. Just Tyson has been kind, sweet, almost dotting since the moment you made eye contact with him. Just Tyson is burning holes into the back of your skull, and you can't say you're made about it. You think about Just Tyson as you grab two glasses out of the cabinet above your head. Once the glasses are poured and you're heading to the couch in the living room, you think that maybe you were overthinking the whole situation. Maybe Tyson was right; you'd created the worst possible scenario in your head about your boss and his teammates, and never thought that maybe everything would be okay. 

As you prop your legs on Tyson's thigh, taking a sip of your wine and sitting against the arm of the chair, you can't help but take the opportunity to chirp at him, "Is this the idea you had in mind? Since I was totally fully clothed in the picture in your head?"

He laughed, leaning his head against the back of the couch and letting his hand fall to rest on your leg, "Yeah, something like this. 'cept I was calling you all kinds of pretty names and trying to resist the urge to kiss you." 

The conversation comes easy, even though both of you are stone cold sober. It would have been almost unfathomable that you can talk to someone for this long without a glass or two of wine in your system. Before you have time to comprehend the words coming out of your mouth, the conversation has switched from the teammates you know and the pots he has seen you work on to his family back home in Canada, and all of the embarrassing events that plagued your childhoods, "your family sounds wonderful, Tyson."

He has become so lost in the comfortability of being around you, he spits out, "They'd love you."

You can tell he didn't think before he spoke by the way his face turns a deep shade of red and the apologies spew from his lips, "Tyson, it's okay, I sure hope they will."

By 10:30, half the bottle of wine is gone, and the 'image' he had been playing out in his head is slowly starting to come to life, "did you want another glass, sweetheart?"

You ignored it on the surface, but your stomach was exploding, "maybe just a little."

He stands up from the couch, taking your glass off the coffee table, "for sure, give me one second, my love." 

The cute names and casual domesticity of the whole situation has you pressing your legs together. 

He gets a text message a little after 11:15.

"Oh fuck it's Tage."

"Is everything okay?" You sit up, hoping that no one is hurt, and that no one is mad.

"Yeah. Yeah, I just told him I'd be back around 11 and he wanted to make sure you weren't harvesting my kidneys or something."

"Did he say that exactly?"

"No, but it was implied."

"If you need to go home, you're allowed to.  I won't be offended or anything if you have other stuff to attend to. You guys are back in the studio Sunday, anyways. It's not like we have a chance to ghost eachother after this."

"Yeah, I should probably get going," both of you stood up off the couch, "I had a lot of fun tonight, Y/N, more than I ever thought I would."

You take a few steps to the front door, watching him put on his shoes and grab his suit jacket, "I would love to do this again at some point or another."

You look up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time all night. You have a chance to take in the details of his face and admire the color of his eyes, "I would like that, yeah."

"This might be an insane thing to ask, but can I kiss you right now?

You smile, "I would be a little sad if you didn't."

Tyson takes a step towards you, taking your hip in one hand and your face in the other. Your hands find the collar of his shirt, smoothing it out before looking up at him. He leans down and kisses you. You hate to admit it, but you can't ignore the fireworks in your chest and the little flutters against your stomach. It doesn't last for too long, but you're disoriented when you pull away. You're fuzzy in the head and a little dizzy, "I'll see you Sunday, Y/N."

"I'll see you Sunday" Tyson ignores the fact that you whispered your response. He bids you another adieu as he closes the door. You try not to squeal with excitement as you take off your makeup and go to bed. You hope and pray to God that you can keep your cool tomorrow around Tyson, knowing the way you felt. 

-💍

Does this make me a cool Tumblr writer now?

[andrebearakovsky]

Please explain Dowd's 4th line to me. I think he must like it, but it makes no sense to me at all that he's not playing higher-up

(An ask about my favorite topic, Dowd’s 4th line? Oh yes please)

Nic Dowd is a very talented hockey player, and he would probably excel on higher lines if he were placed there. HOWEVER, that won’t happen, because he is perfectly suited for the role he has, which is the shutdown center. While the top two lines are scoring-focused, Dowd’s line is a defensive line. Their first focus is not to score but to stop the other team from scoring. Dowd and his linemates get 90% of their starts in the defensive zone, which lead the team by a country mile:

That’s their job, and they’re quite good at it. They get put out on the defensive side because Carbery trusts them, they’re pretty lockdown and good in front of their own net. Dowd and Malenstyn are also the top two penalty killing forwards who WILL be the first out on the PK every single time (provided they’re not the one in the box, which is why you will often see me say “of all the people to be in the box Dowd/Malenstyn is not who I want” when I’m liveblogging the game). The numbers back this up as well, teams aren’t scoring that much when that line is out there; the three of them only trail Mantha and Protas on the team in plus-minus. And that’s your fourth line that’s 3 through 5 on the team in plus-minus, that’s pretty impressive.

So like, the answer to your question is he’s on the 4th line because he’s the defensive shutdown center, a role he’s insanely good at. In fact he’s so good at this, that it’s become A Thing over the last few years that his job specifically is to shut down the other team’s top line. I have a name for this game, every time I see this happen I say “looks like we have another edition of ‘Nic Dowd tries to shut down the other team’s top center’” (or something along those lines). This mostly happens during home games, when we control the line matchups. The coach will deliberately put the Dowd line out there against the other team’s top line in hopes that they can neutralize the opposing star players - usually this means the top center because that’s who Dowd will be taking faceoffs against, but sometimes one of the wingers is the star who needs shutting down. This is why they will often start the game (if the other team is starting the top line), and opposing broadcasts and people will often get super confused we’re purposefully playing the fourth line against the other first line, cause general wisdom says the first line will crush the fourth line. But the thing is, it works. I have watched many, many games where the Dowd line is the one out there against the opposing top line, and those top players do nothing. This isn’t always the case of course, but I’ve watched a lot of games at Capital One Arena where the visiting stars are eerily quiet and they can’t get anything going, which is in large part due to the Dowd line annoying the shit out of them and shutting them down. He’s done this and been super effective at it against, in particular, Connor McDavid, Nathan MacKinnon, Tage Thompson, Jason Robertson, among others. He recently did this against the Horvat-Barzal line against Isles.

But there’s no one he does this better against than Sidney Crosby. Of course Sid still scores against us a bunch sometimes, but it would be much more if not for Dowd. He has an uncanny ability to win faceoffs against Sid (I think it’s something to do with him being right handed, which none of the other caps centers are), which was probably a factor in matching them up in the first place. And not only is he effective but I can just see on his face that Dowd just annoys the absolute shit out of Sid lol. I’m pretty sure one time Sid punched him in the face lmao. I like to joke around that Dowd is Sid’s “enemy” and that Sid has like an enemies board on his wall that he stares at and gets angry at and there are many people on this board but Nic Dowd’s face is front and center lol

Dowd doesn’t always get the direct matchup against the top line, but it happens enough that it’s a thing. How many other fourth lines are getting matchups like that? In my opinion, the Dowd line is the best fourth line in hockey (I’ll take arguments for that Islanders fourth line but that’s it). And not only that, but this fourth line has existed in two different iterations and they’re both damn good. For YEARS, the fourth line was Carl Hagelin-Nic Dowd-Garnet Hathaway. You KNEW they were gonna be together every single game, and they stayed together as a line for a long, long time. The other lines would all shuffle around but that one was set in stone. After they were established I can’t remember them ever being separated save for if somebody was injured. And they were one of the most effective and fun fourth lines I’ve ever seen. They were mean, and tough to play against. They all blocked shots, and they all hit and hit hard, Hathaway especially. Not to mention that Nic and Garnet were besties and clearly loved playing with each other, and Carl was like exasperated by them but fond of them and worked with them very well. And now the Nic Dowd line 2.0 is much the same way. Beck Malenstyn-Nic Dowd-Nicolas Aube-Kubel have the same role and plays almost the same as the iteration before them. Malenstyn slotted perfectly into the role that Hathaway left, he’s a big guy who hits a bunch and blocks a lot of shots and I believe he’ll only do more and more of the physicality as time goes on, that’s what he was known for in Hershey. NAK, like Hagelin, is faster than the other two. And all three of them aren’t afraid to throw a punch. And they very very clearly work incredibly well together. You could see evidence of it last year: Malenstyn visibly clicked with Dowd and Hathaway when he was up with the big club, and I am a firm believer that he would’ve had that spot for the entire rest of the season had he not gotten hurt. And NAK also clicked with Dowd and Hathaway and he was with them for like the second half of the season if I remember correctly. Dowd very clearly really liked the both of them (I used to say that “those two are fraternal twin shitstarters and Nic Dowd just has to absolutely love them and want them on his wings always”), and tbh I was really surprised when they sent down NAK before opening night. Dowd and Malenstyn had been working well together since the beginning of the season, but they absolutely BLOSSOMED once NAK returned to the NHL level. The two of them literally didn’t have any points on the season until NAK came back. My friend and I would make our jokes, like “those are Dowd’s two sons and he wants to play with them” and how he was probably saying “you can pry them from my cold dead hands” and how he grabbed each of them (beck especially) and was like “okay these ones are mine these are my wingers and I am taking them with me everywhere.” And like I thought it was just jokes but then all 3 of them popped off in NAK’s return game and I’m like oh I see it wasn’t just me projecting it was 100% real. They hadn’t all 3 played together before the season and I was curious to see how they’d play together and they did not disappoint, their chemistry from that first game has been absolutely wild.

So, to bring it back to your original question, there are many reasons why Dowd doesn’t play higher up in the lineup. His strengths lie in this particular role of defense, and he and his linemates are very effective at it. Also, while he’s very good at what he does, he is not more offensively talented than the other centers on this team: Strome, Kuznetsov, and McMichael (and Nicky). Like, he’s not above them in the center hierarchy. And he’s not gonna move up to play wing, he’s a center the end. And I am perfectly happy with him where he is, he’s a stellar fourth line center that most any team would probably kill to have tbh, and he does a beautiful job at what he does.

This uhhh likely went much longer than you expected it would, sorry. I’m passionate about the fourth line. But I hoped this answered your question.

[tales-from-nocturnaliss]

9 lines 9 people

I was tagged by @duckingwriting over a week back (their post here). Yes, it took me a while to get to this, simply because it took me this long to get back to writing in itself.

Rules: share the 9 last lines of your WIP and tag 9 people.

The lines (taken from a dreamscape scene):

"Nalyn," the quiet boy repeated, "You still haven't learned. Violence doesn't solve everything." "Shut up! You don't have the right to tell me that!" The quiet boy's sigh filled the room, yet the boy himself was still nowhere to be seen. As though he existed in the darkness that crept along the wall, within the pulse of blood. When next the quiet boy spoke, he was no longer a boy, but a soft-spoken man whose tone carried a hidden hardness. "No one has the right to tell you that you're wrong, do they?" the man said. "And yet you are. You're wrong. You have been wrong your entire life. Your life itself is wrong—" "That is not true!" Aneskia cut in. "—and that it has not ended yet is only testament to your stubbornness. But mark my words."

The tags:

Since people don't seem to respond to my tags, I'm tagging no one :3 feel free to join and tage me if you join from here. If you do, I guarantee you a comment on your lines.

[wpdariacutnes]

🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆

???: is das "Beautiful cigarette" like a lie's onesly someone dumb

???: a been here but I not move a been cool sis

???: like onesly you do

???: can hirding me a been here but not need it been a stroge of cool

. . .

???: life is das light on cigarettes how so long been?

???: but someone lafing happy after a done self after tage me more mean fun's

???: a zombie only past on 10 *fro a cigarette and puding down a zombie one signal 🖕wery cartoon and levan alone like dys*

???: " but honey rolity glass head not enifing a been fishi self on limps" * bit giggle act more a been family trio a enifing more sowing been here*

. . .

???: someone plame a cigarette on nader human on lie like someone tones

???: niby but better not worse get a fine

???: but take dys so jednleli of her hands a get me revent battle on wona for *more a happy do a bow on matcher*

???: sister ploblem a wona do get self a gender a lenest on her left * hit not hart a sister arm been a shut a emoshion on matcher a canda reddy is drunk? Canda look like*

???: ploblem a her not now take nap enifing been self a shut it door * bit look chader*

???: but it reddy a polegaze but it * look a bruken battle wine* you knows a going bow frow it yeah? Like long times take bow chader not more persen and canda not so paint fund need is unfund

???: niby ritche bratcher is better stay like dys a worse a eye blands story's not long a 10 years old canda more now 14 years old a bow enifing ego a cigarette cake a chraing gif you but fell a smoke out

???: is a reddy dead is enifing fine like mean knows lost wision mines is wery dead because not only cigarettes finish of persen's more get gang tv lines happy faces shut's

But thx enifing but evert a perfect cake but more wona sleep because take self edvet tones bit much das "nice you sweety but not enifing me evert get you had"

🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈

🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆

Bizzy: you knows canda you a gender

Vanilla: exuze?

Bizzy: you knows had hem and you ploblem a forget a hem get now Harry in megic head mean like been on stroge reddy past * bit rezan full*

Vanilla: yeah sure like yelly not optnes someone hem line

Yelly: *das ingnoring take self do staws not prowoking canda look happy a soda staws inside look's*

Bizzy: emm but dude Stell is fine like wona hand it up someone some body's knows a not coner out

Vanilla: yeah a "not fuck out but is spish in kind" enifing * yelly now look a puffy opesion and canda nils look more fet a smole it*

Bizzy: * look bit up and move a back after dys more yelly back a vanilla and she not rękę rekenaz heppend now*

Yelly: * more a look so dark like wall dark only 🦷 wery hart red colors oso voise look dyfrent * angel not hang out a coll

Vanilla: *disapointer* nope * look up and now relazing* SHIT. . .

Yelly: not so canon a frow a frog

Vanilla: no relly yet but omost

Yelly: * pet pet vanilla head and back normal a giggle but dys like never heppend* but clown act so cupid and knows geg on devil room's a stons

Vanilla: i knows dys because coll out ditals dys why be so kind

Yelly: a sorry a finks a means

Vanilla: nope a lot nope

🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈🪶🦈

Offical note: 20.12.2023.r

🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆🌾🐆

[chanelfunnell]

Mail

A) Austin Matthews has a stable gf now..Draisaitl has met his girl of 4+ something years as a budding actress and a friend of Lauren Kyle who dates McConnor she starred in some less known indie movies with online screening time or distribution, sort of Netflix..

B) anon, yep, Kyle Davidson has spinning wheel with his special terms such as a spade, settle down in the marriage etc for his ice hockey talk lol. He spins and picks up something out of the boring grey normality to go ahead lol Lazarus as a journo has been witty a decade ago, David-Son is funny.

C) Ianon, I know she is quite hands on, pretty fit, dipping in a lot of fields promoted also on her IN, running some t-shirt apparel biz and after her 4 kids but no idea that she is so religious. I know a top scorer Tage Thompson is but not a class of 5 kids. Funny how people either do not like bcs they do not broadcast it like Julie Petry or are quite tolerant having Anglican shrine at the estate of luke worm RC but the doors are shut in the face of the church goer on the staged photoshoot and just small lack of integrity when it suits. At least not too crazy believers like Petry family don't fight in the court during divorce and not toxic couple smashing other families or denying other members and stealing their rights and assets. And lodging lawsuits in YS courts with precedents how block usage of titles for US common mugger due a trademark lol. I like Petry family. Julie reads, drills and screws. Her husband screws her so hat trick and one more lol. Amen. Petry picks up the bill. We are not benefit fees country for tons of kids and money to never working folks, starr from the top of royal wags with trashy low class heavy make up and accent of Kardashian lacking any busy charity work since Queen died to your beauties of soccer guys in the dressing gowns outside of the litter lol and tons of not exactly genuine and legal immigrants .

d) anon, I'd like to know how a side brain reflects in sport motions and activities..I need to have a look on Seth Jones and his side's of hockey stick and skating. He's a big d-man but a good skater. No idea whether they write by right hand and kick the ball by left foot

[ghostsessioned]

thinking back on “biblically accurate angels” and how UAP’s are considered divine and the consequences that come from them being around are considered From the divine as well. how those hikers and forty people from the star lasso experience would have been written off as a rapture.

[jellobubblelol]

i leave for one week and i come back to mumbo about to blow up the moon (or at least attempt to), grian using a bug to mess with him and (accidentally? idk i havent watched his episode yet) summon a wither, ex apparently peacing out with all of his profits, and probably a whole lot more????

didn’t expect anything less of hermitcraft tbh but what the heck?

[scoupssolo]

look at HIM my GOD 

[unscharf-an-den-raendern]

Guten Morgen an alle, außer an die Leute, deren private Feiern dafür verantwortlich sind, dass meine Heimatstadt wahrscheinlich demnächst Corona-Risikogebiet wird.

[worrn5]

[blackcloudbyjuly]

me wanting to revive @waterparkscc but having literally no skills of running a challenge based blog :/