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2knightt · 9 months ago

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5 things dallas winston hated about you.

—even when you were on his last goddamn nerve, you were still everything to him. is he still everything to you? after all he’s put you through?

-> in no way is this me changing my style nor should this be taken seriously…i’m just bored. and sad. and bored. and i miss my boyfriend. posted on queue!! i’m probably either studying, working on asks + event, or sleeping. either one.

(I.your snarky remarks.)

“did nobody ever teach you how to properly play uno of all games?”

you asked, a chuckle in your voice as you held your one card in hand. dallas glared at you from across your table, holding 12 cards. this was the 5th game you two played. he was never one to accept defeat easily.

“this game is just fuckin’ stupid. n’ you’re a dirty lil’ cheater.” he grumbled, staring down at his all red cards, eyes shifting back to the green 3 that you had placed down. dallas wanted to say more not-so-nice words, but knowing you fully, you’d say something even worse back. he hated that about you. you always said that it was apart of your charm, he always disagreed.

“why would i ever need to cheat when you can’t seem to count?” you snapped back, brows furrowed. you referenced the fact that dallas tried to pick up only 4 when he had to pick up 6, thinking he was slick.

dallas just huffed, picking up another card from the pile before mumbling a small, ‘go.’ there was a tug at the corners of your mouth, causing you to grin a little too hard as you placed down the winning card. for the 5th time in a row. dallas threw his cards down, clicking his tongue in annoyance. he leaned back into the chair, his head turned away from you as his arms hung off the chair.

“stop bein’ a baby and help me clean this up.”

“no. it’s your house.”

“and you’re the one who’s bumming around in it. clean up with me before i let you walk those streets. again.”

(II.how important your looks were to you.)

you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, fingers running through your hair as you starred at yourself in the window of a convenience store.

“are you serious, y/n?” he asked, pockets in hand. he stopped walking when you did. he said it was so nobody hit on you. in reality, he liked it better when he had his eyes on you 24/7. he likes knowing you were safe. even for a second.

“yes, dallas. i am.” you replied with an eye roll. you grabbed your pink lip gloss, re-applying it for the 4th time today. sure, you were willing to admit it slowed you down—your focus on your looks. but were you gonna change? no! if someone doesn’t like it, who cares?

once you were done, you continued walking, leaving dallas to rush to catch up. he walked beside you after speed walking behind you for a few seconds. your lips shined under the hot tulsa sun, eyes glowing along with them. dally couldn’t help but wrap an arm around your waist.

he grew more and more aware of the men around. he held you closer, even when they paid no mind to neither you or him. he felt almost threatened for a moment.

“are you even listening?”

you chimed in, breaking his train of thought. dallas nodded, head empty. he didn’t hear a single thing you said. was he going to admit it? no. he didn’t want these other guys to know about how terrible of a boyfriend he was.

you just hummed, walking to your house in silence. any insults, compliments, comments, or cries would fall to deaf ears as of now.

(III.how you were blindly loyal.)

“i cannot believe you right now.”

“i jus’ said she was pretty. god forbid.”

he muttered as he entered your car, sitting in the passenger seat. dallas knew it’d be a terrible idea to try and make you jealous. boundaries, you’d shout. boundaries!

“i’ve told you how many times on how uncomfortable that makes me.”

“m’sorry, doll. i…i know. it was the alcohol.”

dallas lied right through his teeth. in all honesty—he’d been hoping it’d make you want to show him off. he was stupid for ever thinking you’d so something like that.

your silence scared him. you usually would’ve spat something back at him without a single thought. a sigh left your lips as you started the car, finally speaking up.

“i know.”

you muttered quietly. goddamn, maybe loyalty was gonna be the death of you. he didn’t mind much, though. at least you knew where home was. with him…right? right, y/n? he wanted to ask over and over again. dallas wanted the reassurance. he needed the support.

for what? he didn’t know. he just wanted to make sure you still felt the same way he does.

(IV.the way you fought.)

“she got you good, y/n.”

“oh, shut up, dal.”

you muttered, washing your bloodied and bruised hands under the faucet. you stood there, spacing out, letting the water run off your hands. dallas tapped you on your shoulder, snapping you out of it.

he handed you a clean shirt, a couple of bandaids in the other. you ushered him out of your bathroom, closing the door to put the clean shirt on. ‘she got you good.’ what does that even mean? was there seriously no, ‘are you okay?’ you wondered to yourself as you opened the door.

dallas sat you down on the toilet, brushing the fresh blood that slowly streamed down your cheeks with his thumb as he placed bandaids all over your face. he kissed every single one after doing so.

he wanted to make sure you still knew he likes you. that dallas winston liked you a whole lot.

“you’ll be alright, doll.” he comforted, patting your head. he thought back to your several other fights. you fought strategically and with honour. something he’d never do. but, recently, you’d been fighting just for the fun of it.

when you fought before—he felt a little angry. he didn’t like seeing you fight, but he didn’t like knowing you were good at it. knowing you were at the same level as he was at something he took pride in hurt him. dallas was frustrated at you and himself.

maybe his bad habits were rubbing off on you. a way to remember him, as dallas thought about it. he said he’d talk to you later about it. he never did.

(V.how quickly you were able to move on. faster than he ever could.)

you realized you needed better. dallas didn’t treat you like he used to. why? you didn’t know. you tried to be the best girlfriend he’d ever have, so why did he have to ruin it? was it your fault?

you kept on asking yourself questions like this when the reality of it all sunk in. that same day, you left dallas winston.

he felt his world crumble before him. this whole, self-sabotaging thing that pony warned him about was catching up to him. dallas felt hatred for you. well, at least he wanted to. he wanted to feel angry. hatred for you.

he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. even when he watched you move onto another guy. from afar, he’d see you giggle and flirt with him. like how you used to do with him.

even when you’re with someone else, you’re still everything ti dallas. would you ever forgive him if he said sorry? would sorry even fix the way he treated you?

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston x reader #this whole thing is just dallas being toxic #and just like disliking how reader is catching on #bibically accurate dallas winston technically #emotionally mature reader methinks #would modern day dallas listen to alpha male podcasts #this fic is technically me shitposting #i hate this so much #but idgaf #me coded dallas winston #queue posting my love #sleeping rn #was so not proofread #ifnore any mostakes

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zegrasdrysdale · 11 months ago

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[ impossible ] t. seguin

day eleven of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Tyler Seguin x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) is surprised when ex boyfriend Tyler knocks on the door of her parents’ house on Christmas Day

warning(s) : angsty, but nothing besides that

author’s note : last two fics of the christmas marathon. let’s do this

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She has never been happier to be home in Toronto. (Y/N) loves living in Dallas, but the last few weeks haven’t been the best. Being surrounded by family should help her out of the post-breakup funk she’s been in recently.

Even now as she's sitting in the living room with her family in her Christmas pajamas and opening their gifts, she misses Tyler. She misses her old life with Tyler, but she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't keep doing the distance.

He was away more often than he was home. When he was home, he went out with his teammates after games or on off days. She'd often go weeks without seeing him because he'd stay over at a teammate's house.

She wasn't equal with hockey anymore. Not like she used to be. She got tired of it.

She never gave him an ultimatum because she could never make him choose between her and hockey. (Y/N) made her feelings known and Tyler didn't seem to care, so she has been living with her best friend in Dallas and came home for Christmas a week ago. She stopped answering Tyler's texts and calls so she hasn't even talked to him in nearly two months.

Her family doesn't notice that something's wrong. (Y/N) does her best to keep a smile on her face and interacts with her nieces and nephews as they open their gifts. No one has asked where Tyler is and she is very much grateful for that.

As (Y/N) opens a gift from her mom, there's a knock on the door. Her mom goes to answer it as she opens the box that contains a Dallas Stars customized jersey that has her last name above the 91. "Tyler!" her mother shouts from the front door. "It's so nice of you to join us. We didn't think you'd be joining us."

Her head snaps toward the door so quickly that she thought for a split second that she gave herself whiplash. She's very surprised to see her ex standing at the front door of her parents' house in Toronto.

"I needed to go see my parents before coming over," Tyler says as he looks right at (Y/N). "Sorry I'm late. I forgot how insane Toronto traffic can be."

Words cannot express how angry and annoyed she is that he is at the door. She thought that he would've gotten the message that she was done when she didn't talk to him for two months.

Apparently not because there he stands in a Stars hoodie and plaid pajama pants with a bag full of gifts at the front door.

She gets up off the floor and pushes Tyler out the door without a word to anyone. It closes behind her, leaving the two of them alone in the cold Toronto air. Snow is on the ground and she's outside in a tank top, fuzzy pajama pants, and slippers. (Y/N) can't even feel the cold because of the fact that she is fuming.

"You have no right showing up," she spits at him. "We haven't spoken in two months and you show up at my parents' house."

Tyler blinks and says, "Last time I checked, you're the one that stopped talking to me. I don't remember being told that I wasn't allowed to come to Christmas because you stopped answering my texts and calls."

"We're done, Tyler," she tells him. "In case that wasn't clear."

"You're done," he retorts. "I'm not. I don't understand why you just up and left."

"I told you why!" (Y/N) practically shouts. "You're gone for weeks at a time, Tyler. The only time I get to see you is when we're separated by a thick piece of glass while I'm sitting in the stands and you're on the ice. You used to spend off days with me, you used to come home to me and we'd watch a movie on the couch or in bed. Then you decided to go out after every game or go out on off days."

He runs a hand through his hair and says, "I am a leader, (Y/N). I was never around my team. I needed to show them that I am still a leader and I couldn't do that when I was cooped up at home with you. You knew what you were getting into when we started dating and all of a sudden, you can't handle it anymore?"

Anger courses through her veins. Her blood is boiling to the point where the snow might melt around her. "No," she retorts. "I can't do it anymore. You used to make time for me and now you're a ghost. I was living in a shell of our past life together while you seemed to be moving on. I was alone in that apartment. It was like I didn't have a boyfriend anymore. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal if I left."

A look of hurt flashes on Tyler's face. "Of course it would be a big deal if you left," he softly says. "I love you. I miss you."

She shakes her head and does everything she can to keep the tears from spilling over to her cheeks. "You didn't listen," she tells him. "I told you how I felt and you still went out that night after the game. I made the decision to leave because I knew that if you went out after I told you how I felt, you'd keep going out. I couldn't do it anymore."

Tyler frowns and says, "I went out to tell the guys that I wasn't going to be going out as much with them after games and on off days. That is the only reason I went out. I was gone for thirty minutes. When I came back to the apartment and you were gone, I realized that I didn't tell you that I'd be right back."

"I- you-" she cuts herself off when she realizes that if she had just stayed around for an hour, he would've been back. "Why didn't you just text that to me?"

"I thought that you'd be back," he admits. His eyes fall to the ground. "I didn't think you'd ignore me for two months. I didn't think it would take you a half hour to pack a bag and leave. I should've told you that I'd be right back."

A tear slips down Tyler's cheek. Her own tears begin to fall when she sees Tyler's tears. "Tyler, I'm so sor-"

"It's not your fault," he interrupts her. "Don't you dare apologize. We wouldn't even be in this situation if I had just realized how lonely you were or if I had just told you that I would be right back. I'm sorry. I know I probably shouldn't have come up here to try and fix things but I couldn't let you spend Christmas thinking you did something wrong when you didn't."

She takes a few steps forward and wraps her arms around his torso. Tyler's free arm wraps around her shoulders as she buries her face in his chest.

They've both done a lot wrong the past few months, but all they can do now is acknowledge what they've done wrong and move past it.

Hopefully Tyler's season can recover too because despite not being together, (Y/N) did keep an eye on his stats. He really began to fall apart a week after she left the apartment and has never been able to get it together.

That's all on her.

"Sorry your season has gone to shit," she sniffles as she looks up at him. "You can blame that on me."

Tyler shakes his head and cups her jaw with his free hand. "I'll never blame how good or bad a season is going on you," he tells her. "That will never be on you.'

A gust of wind blows and she shivers. Tyler wraps his arm back around her shoulders and holds her close to him. "I'll blame myself enough for both of us," she says. "Can we go inside?"

"As long as you're not done," Tyler replies. "I came up here to fight for us and I won't go inside unless you tell me that we can go back to how things were, minus my going out all the time."

(Y/N) looks up at him and nods. "I'm not done," she practically whispers. "Even when I said I was done, I don't think I actually was. You're impossible to move on from, Tyler Seguin."

He smiles and leans down to press a soft kiss to her lips. He hums and pulls back. "God, (Y/N)," he says. "Your lips are so cold. Let's go."

She lets out a light laugh and walks into the house with Tyler in tow.

Everyone looks at the two of them as Tyler pulls off his hoodie and pulls it over (Y/N)'s head since they were outside for fifteen minutes talking in freezing temperatures. "Everything okay?" her mom asks. "You guys were outside for a while. I thought I heard yelling."

"Everything's okay," she assures everyone in the living room. She goes back to sitting on the ground and Tyler sits next to her. He takes her hands in his so they warm up. She leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder. "We're okay."

That was more for Tyler than anything. He kisses the top of her head before he starts to hand out the gifts that he brought with him for (Y/N)'s parents and siblings. She watches them open their presents with a smile on her face.

Then Tyler holds a little present in front of (Y/N). She slowly takes it and looks up at him. "What is this?" she asks.

"Now that would ruin the surprise," Tyler teases. "Open it and find out. I know technically we weren't together when I bought this but I knew I wanted to buy it for you."

She unwraps it and opens the little black box. There's a silver ring that sits inside with a 91 in little diamonds on it. Her jaw drops and she looks up at her boyfriend. "You really went all out even though we weren't together," she gasps.

Tyler grabs it out of the box and takes her right hand. He slides the ring on the ring finger. "Wanted to make sure that everyone knows who your boyfriend was when we got back together," he replies. She admires the ring on her finger and Tyler kisses the ring.

(Y/N) smiles and leans against him to watch the last few presents get opened.

It finally feels like Christmas now that Tyler is here. It didn't feel like it until he got here because they have spent the last three Christmases together.

Despite being angry that he showed up, she's very happy he's here now.

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baronessvonglitter · 9 days ago

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Wip Weekend

I have a lot of plates spinning right now, and I hope to have a couple of these done within the week 🤞🏽

First up I have the beginning of "The Girlfriend Experience" where reader/Angel has garnered significant success in her career.

Star of the Year Your boss's hand rests on your lower back, the heat of his palm is felt through the deep back slit of your dress. "I never had a doubt. You've been my shining star since day one," he murmurs in your ear as you gaze upon your award, your manicured finger tracing the engraved letters of your title and your name. "'Rising Star' last year, 'Star of the Year' now. How does it feel?" You take a moment to think about it because it's not an off-the-cuff question. When he asks you something, he really wants to know your answer. In the past couple years you've garnered the coveted spot within the escort agency. You've worked your way up the same as everyone else, but there's something about you that keeps your old clients coming back and the new ones intrigued. You've serviced clients of every rank and status, from businessmen to princes in foreign lands. Even women, though being with them was so easy it rarely ever felt like work. You've made a name for yourself, and as one of the highest grossing performers, you've earned the option to walk away right now. The money in your bank account is showing more zeroes than you've ever thought possible, and you've created the kind of life for yourself where you'll never have to worry about a thing anymore. An apartment in Paris, a brownstone in NYC, a villa in Milan, a Spanish colonial in LA.. not to mention cars you rarely need to drive because you're always being picked up and dropped off in style. You've met with movie stars, designers, everyone of importance. And you could stop working if you really want to. But you don't want to. Giving your boss a smile, you don't take your eyes from his as his hand travels from your back to your waist, gently gliding his fingers towards your breast. "It feels like I've accomplished everything I've wanted to do.. but that doesn't mean I'm done yet, Mr. Martell." He smiles, his teeth perfect and white. "Please. Call me Oberyn."

(Of course Oberyn owns an escort agency, and of course there's going to be a threesome right after this scene with him and Ellaria)

Also, "Maneater", a mini series about Maxwell Lord who's doing what he can to keep his business afloat, even if it means marrying a woman much older than him. @everybodylovedcontractors I hope you like it!

"Mr. Lord, you have a call on line one," Raquel's voice chirps over the intercom. "Who is it?" Maxwell asks, not wanting to be bothered just then. "Your fiancee, Linda St. James," she replies. "It sounds urgent." "Great," he mutters, dreading this call. He dreads all her calls. He lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Put her through." "Does my Maxi-Muffin miss me?" Linda's sickly sweet voice comes over the line. At sixty-five years old she's one of the richest widows in the country, and almost twice Max's age. "I wanted to tell you I'm still in Dallas, but my flight should arrive just in time for us to have dinner at my place tonight." "Oh Linda my dear, I am positively quivering with anticipation of seeing you again," Max lies through his teeth, lining up a shot on his desktop mini pool table. Linda continues. "I was thinking.. over dinner we could talk about that business loan I want to give you," she says in a sing-song voice. Damn, the woman knows how to dangle a carrot. And I'm just her pet, her toy, something to show off to her friends. "Nothing would make me happier than to enjoy a fine dinner with the most.. with such a.. with my lovely bride-to-be," he manages to choke out. Ass kissing comes with the territory of business and finance, but his lack of attraction to his fiancee somehow keeps him from exaggerated compliments. "But if my dear Linda wants to discuss financing my future, then I won't stop her." "You know I love nothing more than to help you," her voice drips with sickly sweetness. "See you tonight at the mansion, honey muffin." She makes kissing sounds over the phone before she hangs up. Max hangs up with a groan of disgust.

And some rom-com Dave, which surprised me, but I think it's really sweet. Featuring Divorce Lawyer!Dave (working on a title) but the first chapter is "Meet Cute" (will also feature Javier Pena, Tim Rockford, and maybe even Ezra..) and because I like getting ahead of myself I'm working out a spinoff rom com with Tim 👀

Dave has been waiting in line with his daughters for only fifteen minutes when the announcement is made that tickets are officially sold out. Alice and Molly look up at him, expecting him to do something, but what exactly can he do? "Look, girls, I'm sorry. We'll have to come back another day." "We wanted to see the exhibit. I wanted to take a selfie with those big neon wiggly things," Molly pouts. "I know, sweetie, but it's just not in the cards today." He ruffles her hair. There's a scent of roses as he feels someone approach the three of them. "Hey, sorry, I heard you wanted to get into the exhibit." Dave looks up and sees you, and has a momentary lapse of thought. "Um.. yes, my daughters are kind of upset that tickets sold out so quick. It's my fault for not purchasing them ahead of time." He smiles sheepishly, wondering what you must think of him. "I can get you in with me," you offer. "I have a membership pass. Kids get in free and I can bring one other person." "You don't have to do that-" "Please. I want to." You take a look at his daughters, who are looking back at you with hope in their pretty little eyes. "You'd be doing me a favor by accepting," you tell Dave. The girls tug on his hands, jumping up and down, begging him to take up your offer until he at last relents. "Okay, okay," he chuckles. "Thank you, Miss..?" You give him your name, offer your hand, which he takes in his own. He repeats it back to you, making sure he's got it right, the taste of your name like a sweet swig of wine in his mouth.

And last but not least, a little stepdad!Frankie x coquette!reader I've been cooking up. Not sure if this will be separate parts yet, or one big ol' hunk of a story, but the working title is "Kitten"

Hearing his footsteps behind you, you smirk and lean against the sink, bent over at the waist. "I think something's wrong with the drain." The sight of you like that makes his pulse quicken. He has to take a deep breath to steady himself before speaking. "What do you mean something's wrong with it?" He clears his throat gruffly, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "The water's not going down," you answer, turning around, your t-shirt wet and see-through. Frankie eyes the way it clings to your body, your tits on display, nipples visible, making his mouth water. His composure is nearly lost then and there. "Um, I'm sure it's just.." he struggles to finish the sentence, any coherent thoughts devolving into pure instinct and desire. A bright smile graces your lips. "Whatever it is, I'm sure you can fix it. I trust you with my pipes." You move past him, lightly brushing against him as you walk to your bedroom. "I've gotta get changed. Can't believe how wet I got!"

I'm working on a couple other things as well, which I may feature next week once I have some of this out of my system.

Tagging some moots who tagged me first and/or seemed interested when I bothered them with my ideas (JK y'all are my cheerleaders)

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @mermaidgirl30 @joelalorian @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981

#pedro pascal #ppcu fandom #oberyn martell #maxwell lord #dave york #frankie morales #current wips #my wips #wip weekend #wip it good

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natlacentral · 9 months ago

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The cast of Netflix’s adaptation of Avatar: The Last Airbender knows they can’t please everyone.

It’s a difficult life lesson that many of the show’s young actors have come to learn since they were chosen to star in a live-action reimagining of one of the most beloved animated series of all time.

Like any great saga, the latest iteration of Avatar has taken a circuitous route to the small screen. In 2020, two years after Netflix announced that it was developing a remake, original creators Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino departed the project over creative differences. A year later, former Nikita and Sleepy Hollow writer-producer Albert Kim officially assumed the role of creator and showrunner, intending to honor the Asian and Indigenous roots of his source material.

Since the debut of the new Avatar last Thursday, longtime fans have remained divided over the many changes that were made to turn a 20-episode half-hour children’s cartoon into an eight-episode serialized drama that has multigenerational appeal. But by maintaining the essence of the original while expanding the world that Konietzko and DiMartino have created, the new creative team is hoping to recapture some of the magic that transformed Avatar into a cultural phenomenon.

Every diehard fan can recite the basic premise by heart: The four nations — Water, Earth, Fire, Air — once lived in harmony, with the Avatar, master of all four elements, keeping the peace between them. But everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked and wiped out the Air Nomads. A century later, Aang (Gordon Cormier), a 12-year-old Air Nomad frozen in an iceberg, reawakens to take his rightful place as the next Avatar. With his newfound friends Katara (Kiawentiio) and Sokka (Ian Ousley), siblings and members of the Southern Water Tribe, Aang sets out on a quest to save the world from the onslaught of Fire Lord Ozai (Daniel Dae Kim) while avoiding being captured by Ozai’s tempestuous son, Crown Prince Zuko (Dallas Liu).

Almost every Zoomer who grew up watching Nickelodeon seems to have their own relationship with the original Avatar. Kiawentiio, whose older siblings would always have the show playing in their house, recalls being drawn to its depiction of a young Indigenous girl, at a time when there was scant representation of Native Americans. Ousley credits Avatar and Star Wars: The Clone Wars for inspiring him to take up martial arts. Liu has a vivid childhood memory of watching a restless Zuko and his tea-drinking uncle Iroh’s first scene together on a boat. Cormier, as the youngest of the bunch, admits that he had not watched the show prior to auditioning. But by the time he entered production, all he could do was live and breathe Avatar.

Daniel Dae Kim, who watched the original with one of his sons when it first aired, tells Teen Vogue that he held a kind of family meeting with his now-adult children and some of his nieces and nephews after receiving an offer from Albert Kim (no relation) to star in the new version. “I called all of them, and I said, ‘What do you think about me doing a part in Avatar?’ And they were like, ‘You should do it!’ without hesitation. Then I asked the next question: ‘Well, I’m playing Ozai. He’s a bad guy…’ They paused for a second, and then they all screamed, ‘You should still do it!’” he says with a laugh.

Once the cast was assembled, the creative team began the seemingly gargantuan task of trying to breathe new life into each of the characters. While the animated series dealt with weighty issues such as genocide, war and imperialism, there is an added human component in live-action storytelling that requires a more grounded approach to depicting real-life reactions and emotions. “We were all definitely allowed to look into the darker sides of each of our characters,” Cormier says. In Aang’s case, he is tasked with a responsibility that he doesn’t necessarily want but feels obligated to assume after discovering that he is the last living Airbender of his kind.

Aang is “naturally a really fun-loving, goofy 12-year-old, so to be hit with something so serious like a genocide [affecting] all of his people, it really affects him badly,” Cormier says. “We see in the first episode where I blow Katara and Sokka off the mountain how badly it’s affected me. It hurt me so much [that] I blasted into the Avatar state and started destroying my home. I think it just shows how serious and traumatic it is for Aang, but slowly, he’ll get through it and become the Avatar.”

The themes of loss and grief remain prevalent across all eight episodes, with each of the young characters being forced to confront their own unresolved trauma.

Katara is forced to reckon with how her memory of her mother’s death has affected her ability to become a full-fledged Waterbender. “Another thing that I feel like impacted her so much, without even really explicitly touching on it, is being the last Waterbender of her tribe,” Kiawentiio says. “She really feels so deeply connected with that part of [herself], even though it’s something that she can’t really access [at first], and she feels this sense of, ‘This is what I should be doing.’”

After his father left years ago on a mission to fight the Firebenders, Sokka was forced to grow up quickly and protect his tribe, especially his younger sister, from the waterbending abilities that had caused them so much pain. “Sokka is a perfect example of somebody that is not healed, is pushing stuff down and won’t let it come out, is putting on different masks to the point where he doesn’t even know who he is when we first find him,” says Ousley, who insisted on finding a way to bring out a more serious side in Sokka without losing his signature sarcasm in this adaptation. “I think the trauma that he has is covered up by humor often and covered up by acting silly, and he will have lots of moments where he actually discovers who he is.”

Zuko, however, may have the most compelling arc of the first season. Having been banished by Ozai from the Fire Nation, Zuko has effectively lost one father but gained another father figure in his Uncle Iroh (Paul Sun-Hyung Lee), who takes it upon himself to look after Zuko on his journey to capture the Avatar. In the first season, viewers see Zuko’s Agni Kai — or traditional Firebender duel — with Ozai, who was responsible for giving Zuko his prominent facial scar.

While Ozai “may not have the tools to do it the right way,” Kim understands that his character “is trying, in his own way, to shape his children into what he feels is necessary to secure the future of not only his family, but of the entire Fire Nation.” That kind of tough love, unfortunately, has done irreparable damage to his children.

In a dramatic departure from the original series, the writers decided to introduce Elizabeth Yu as Princess Azula earlier than in the original series. In doing so, the family dynamics between Ozai, Zuko and Azula become even more complicated. “Since Zuko’s away on his ship in the first season, you get a glimpse into, while he’s away, what is going on in the Fire Nation and who’s pulling all the strings,” Yu says. “For Azula, Zuko is very much more like a roadblock than anything else. You see that sense of family is not really there.”

“I think the writers did a good job of showing a rivalry between the two fighting for the father’s approval and attention without us directly interacting or speaking with each other,” Liu adds. “Zuko is just trying to prove he is worthy of his father’s love and attention just as much as Azula is. I think people will really come to root for Zuko because of everything that he’s been through.”

The production team was also keen to honor and recreate the costumes of the original series in a way that was not only beautiful but practical for the actors; Kiawentiio and Ousley had to wear heavy coats made of suede and fur, while Kim, Liu and Yu wore layers upon layers of corseted material with large shoulder pads.

“They really helped me complete the character because there was something about when I put on the wardrobe that made me walk [and] feel a certain way,” Kim says, “and it turned my character into someone more regal and powerful.”

It’s almost fitting that the most regal character is played by Hollywood royalty among Asian Americans. For the better part of the last three decades, Kim has been at the forefront of the movement to increase the visibility of Asian Americans in film and television. “The fact that I’m still working and able to see [the change] and be a part of it makes me feel very grateful, because success is not guaranteed to anyone in this business,” he reflects.

Kim believes the new Avatar is a reflection of today’s changing landscape in Western entertainment for more diverse stories that center Asian and Indigenous communities. “I don’t think it’s any secret to say that a live-action version has been done in the past, but it wasn’t done this way,” he says, referring to M. Night Shyamalan’s disastrous The Last Airbender film, which whitewashed many key characters. “I don’t think that it would have been done this way even five or 10 years ago because there wasn’t the same emphasis on proper representation and real diversity [that there is now].”

“I feel like we fought hard for the progress that we’ve made, and at the same time, I acknowledge that there need to be others outside of those of us in the community to push things forward,” he adds. “It takes a community working together along with allies.”

As the most accomplished actor of the group, did Kim have any advice for his younger castmates? “I don’t feel like it’s necessarily my place to be giving advice where it’s not needed or wanted, but it was nice of them to ask me about my experiences and how they could chart their own path forward in a business that’s very difficult,” Kim responds. “I can tell you that I really have been impressed by all of them, and I’m so excited to see the next generation of Asian American actors in particular come in with this attitude, with this opportunity. I would really love nothing more than to see them succeed beyond what we’ve seen in generations previous.”

The first season ends with Aang, Katara and Sokka successfully helping the Northern Water Tribe fend off a vicious attack from the Firebenders. Rather than following the advice of past Avatars, who stressed that he would have to bear the burden of his title alone, Aang realizes that he needs his friends to master all four elements.

“The Avatar still has to learn other elements, so we had to get the ball rolling on water and earth. If we did reach Season 2, I believe that we’ll find Aang already practicing water just because in the group he has quite the master to teach him,” Kiawentiio says with a smile, alluding to her own character.

But the last minutes of the finale also reveal that the attack on the North was actually a decoy for the Fire Nation. Ozai, as it turns out, had his sights on the Earth Kingdom — and his daughter, Azula, has taken over the Earth Kingdom city of Omashu with her own army. Aang’s old friend, King Bumi (Utkarsh Ambudkar), has now been taken prisoner.

“You have this idea of the prodigal son and you put all of your attention to someone who, in Ozai’s eyes, is failing him,” Kim says of the state of Ozai’s relationships with his two most powerful children at the end of the season. “So when there’s another child that you are not looking at in the same way that ends up surprising you, it’s a pleasant surprise, and it changes the way that you see the future. I think Azula was a surprise to him, and it brings him some joy, and he may have overlooked her in the past, but now he sees her as a real heir apparent.”

The revelation that his father has passed him over for his sister, at least for now, shakes up Zuko’s entire world, Liu says. “He feels a weird sense of betrayal because even though it is his sister and his father working against him, they are part of the Fire Nation, and his loyalty towards the Fire Nation was something that we know he was very persistent about, even though he was banished.”

Going forward, Kim would be interested in deepening the portrayal of Ozai’s relationships with his children, as well as his older brother, Iroh. “What is the relationship between the two of them when the second son supersedes the first? And how does Iroh feel about all of that? We never really see that explored,” he remarks. “I’d also like to see what happened to Zuko and Azula’s mom. These kinds of things are crucial to deepening the character, and I would love to see a little bit more of his history and how that informs who he is now.”

While the show has yet to be renewed for a second season, the young actors all have their own hopes for future seasons. Ousley would like to see Sokka “pick up the pieces” emotionally after the beautifully tragic end of his first love, Princess Yue (Amber Midthunder). Yu is ready to “do some of the really iconic Azula lines and scenes that we all know,” especially the Agni Kai in Season 3. Cormier is most excited to potentially adapt “Appa’s Lost Days” and the final fight scene between Aang and Ozai. “Throughout the show, I feel like he's going to learn more and more about why he has to be the Avatar,” he says.

#article #teen vogue #gordon cormier #kiawentiio #ian ousley #dallas liu #daniel dae kim #elizabeth yu #natla #atla #netflix atla #atla netflix #avatar netflix #netflix avatar #avatar the last airbender

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jesuschristmattyhealy · 2 years ago

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you're the only one I want to see

to the anon who suggested this idea: I hope you know it has become a permanent installment of my before-bed-fantasy-dream-time. this is very much inspired by the Andrew/Amelia Golden Globe's interview, hence the title. thanks to @hereyeswerefilledwiththestars for the reader's interview theme I appreciate you bestie <33 hope you all enjoy comments and feedback is always appreciated. ilysm

////

“I think you’re being summoned.”

“Am I?”

You watch in professional disbelief as Harry Styles turns in profile to find that, yes, his publicist is waving him onto the next interview.

“Oh, yeah,” he pouts, “So sad, I was having such a good time chatting.”

“Don’t worry,” you reply with an air of chumminess you can’t quite believe is coming across as effortless, “We’ll find a time soon, darling, I promise.”

“They can’t keep us apart, I won’t let them,” he declares, “Keep up the good work.”

“I’ll certainly try!” You call after his retreating back. As soon as he’s out of ear and eye shot you double over, wheezing to the camera man, “I can’t believe I just had a full conversation with him.”

It’s the 2023 Britt Awards and British GQ has hired you as a representative for the red carpet, after your web series gained popularity and got you noticed by large publications across Europe and America. In a world where every interview has to have a schtick, yours is called “Two Drink Minimum,” a show where you invite celebrities out for at least two drinks and ask them increasingly more ridiculous questions as the night progresses. So far, you’ve hosted names such as Pedro Pascal, Bryce Dallas Howard and Jonathon Van Ness and in the new year, it seems like everyone’s publicist is in your inbox asking for a feature. Your career has led you to a lot of “pinch me” moments, but watching Harry Styles’ ever-sequined back sauntering away from you calls for a punch square in the face.

Suddenly, a male voice pulls you from your star-struck stupor.

“I was hoping you’d be here.”

You start, spinning around to come face to face with the man who decorated both your high school bedroom and college dorm room, and your phone lockscreen for as long as you can remember having one. Matty Healy, wearing a dark green suit and an amused smile.

You press a hand to your chest, “You scared me-”

Instinctively, he reaches for your forearm, “-oh no, I didn’t mean to scare you-”

You grip the sleeve of his suit, hardly believing his real skin and bone is beneath it, “-you just materialized out of nowhere-”

“-I was just so excited to see you, I couldn’t help myself.” He giggles — really giggles.

You can feel your face heating up in spite of yourself, “Wha- excited to see me? Matty Healy please-”

“No, really, ask the boys I’ve been dying to meet you.”

The knowledge that the men of the 1975 have even mentioned your name, let alone had full conversations about you, is almost too much to handle. You search for a word, anything really, that might be appropriate. Your brain feels like hot pea soup.

“And where is your… gang this evening?”

His brow furrows, you immediately regret saying anything. Staring at him might’ve even been better.

His lips turn up at the end, “Gang?-”

You’re already explaining yourself, “I don’t know why I said that you’re-”

He’s smiling full on now, like he knows something you don’t,“Yeah, there’s a name for what we are, love, it’s a-”

“- A band, I’m sorry it’s just that I’ve been talking to Harry Styles and I’ve lost all cognitive ability,” you joke, gesturing wildly at your forehead.

He rolls his eyes, the smile becomes a smirk, “Oh that’s it, is it, you’re still thinking about him? Should I leave, should I go find him for you?” He points his thumb behind him, already turning to go.

You reach for his arm again, giggling at his sarcasm, “No, no, Matty that’s not what I meant-”

“- No it’s alright, I don’t want to stand in the way of true love.” He waves one hand at you, the other loosely holds your finger tips.

“No, honestly what it is is that I’m actually getting really nervous around you but I was embarrassed so I used Harry as a cover,” Truer words had never been spoken.

He’s nodding, a single strand of hair tickling his eyebrows,“Oh, there’s the backpedal, no it’s alright the damage is done, I see where I stand. Just England’s second best male pop star, that’s alright.”

You whistle through your teeth, donning a jokingly skeptical look,“I don’t know, I feel like Ed Sheeran might have that title.”

His mouth actually falls open at that,“Ed Shee- right I’m leaving, you’ve slandered me for the last time-”

You’re laughing now, the nerves have gone. It feels like you’ve been old friends forever,“No! Matty, don’t give up on us-”

He shakes his head, looking away from you into the crowd, “-after I was so kind and complimentary to you-”

“- you’re right I’m the worst, I’m awful-”

“-telling you how excited I was to see you, practically baring my soul-”

“- please come back, let’s talk about this!”

“Ok, fine you’ve convinced me.” He circles back to you, clasping his hands in front of him. His eyes make a trail from your eyes to your mouth to your necklace back to your eyes. If you weren’t blushing before you certainly are now.

You take a deep breath, “Ok, now you were telling me where your band is.”

“Yeah, they’re queueing at the Glam Bot.”

“Oh, is there a line?”

“Yeah, it’s ages long too, I couldn’t stand there any longer. George is gonna text me when we’re up.”

“Do you have your pose planned?” You ask.

“No, and I’ll tell you what we should probably figure that out because that thing is proper intimidating.”

“Yeah, it comes at you awfully fast doesn’t it?”

“Yes! It’s so fast, I get nervous just watching it.”

“Matty Healy? Afraid of a robot?”

He frowns with his whole face, leaning backwards,“No, no, I’m not. I’m a big guy, I don’t get scared-”

You roll your eyes, laughing through your nose,“That’s right I forgot, forgive me.”

“-It’s fine, just try to remember next time,” He winks at you, just barely so much so you think you might have imagined it, “No, I’m mostly just scared that I’ll blink or something stupid.”

You make a noise of agreement, “Do you want to practice not blinking?”

He bites his lip in thought,“How would we do that, exactly?”

“Easy, we’ll just have a staring contest.”

“Oh yeah, okay .”

You square off, each of you closing your eyes in preparation.

“Ok,” you say, “Counting us down. Three, two, one, go.”

You open your eyes and are immediately met with his stare, dark amber, autumn leaves and the forest at sunrise, maple and mahogany. Your breath catches in your throat. He’s smirking at you again, as if he can read your thoughts. You try to think about neutral things, dogs, going to the grocery store tomorrow, how much your feet hurt right now, just in case he can.

“My eyes hurt already,” You whisper.

He doesn’t say anything, just hums something under his breath. It all feels strangely intimate, all these people in the room and he’s staring at you like you’re the first person he’s ever seen in his life. An idea washes over you suddenly. He’s rocking back and forth slightly on his heels. Just as he moves forward, you lift your hand and snap your fingers in front of his nose. He blinks immediately.

“Ha! You blinked!”

“That’s cheating!” He’s indignant, his Northern accent evident.

“It’s not cheating, I’m just preparing you!” You laugh as he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

“This is so unfair,” he rubs his dry eyes with the heel of his palm.

You pout sarcastically at him. “I’m so sorry, I hope someday you can forgive me.”

“It might take a while,” He wrinkles his nose at you, then is distracted by his phone lighting up i his pocket, “Oh, George is demanding I come back now.”

Your stomach falls slightly, “Yes, go back to your-”

“Gang?” he raises his eyebrows.

“-exactly.”

He touches your arm again, the skin tingles, “So sorry to leave you, I feel like that was probably the most worthless interview you’ve done all night-”

You laugh.

“Not like that it was bad, I just feel like I didn’t give you anything whatsoever.”

You place your hand over your heart, “Don’t worry, it was very impactful to me.”

“Ok, well that’s all that matters,” He’s inching away, lingering slightly, “Maybe we uh… maybe we can have a redo on your show.”

You hum agreement, “Now there’s an idea, Healy.”

“I have good ones sometimes.” He shrugs, thumbs in his pockets.

“I’ll have my people get in touch with your people,” You say, and before you can stop yourself, shoot him a pair of finger guns.

He’s almost turned away, but does a double take, laughing, “Did you just finger gun me?”

“Pretend that didn’t happen.”

“Sure. I’ll see you in there.”

He walks away, giggling still, looking over his shoulder at you. You retreat to the bathroom to call your roommate in hysterics.

#matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #im very excited abt this one I must say #hope you all enjoy !!!#mayhaps there is a part two being thunk

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marsaitl · 1 year ago

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hello my fellow kivi lovers and stars fans.

our guy’s playing in his season debut for the colorado eagles tonight <3

#i miss him so bad #he should still be playing for the stars #ITS NOT FAIR #but i Hope everything goes so well for him #he deserves the best #joel kiviranta #i’m still tagging dallas stars for this #bc in my mind he’s still a star #he’ll always be a star #dallas stars

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film-in-my-soul · 4 months ago

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see you on the other side | 2,058 | onawingandaswear

Summary: Eric is already resting on the couch when Jack comes down the stairs, his arms crossed over his stomach, hovering the usual two inches off the cushions though his coattails still brush the fabric. “You must have lived through some terrible conditions and this is still where you draw the line, eh?” Jack chirps, setting down his notebook and recorder to settle in. “You know I cleaned it for you.” “I died in a barn, Mister Zimmermann. I didn’t live in one,” Eric chides, brushing non-existent dirt from the sleeve of his jacket.

It's a Kind of Magic | 2,379 | 74days

Summary: It’s a kind of magic, Hockey players say. Ice magic.

you're the only one i see | 2,916 | seeingrightly

Summary: Eric glances at his door, which is shut most of the way, and crawls to the end of his bed, snatches Jack’s phone up and sits back down, cross-legged, both hands wrapped around its classic, boring black rubber case. He takes a second to listen, but Jack still seems to be rifling around in his room across the hall, so Eric swipes the camera open, switches it to front-facing, and starts taking selfies. He crosses his eyes for the first one and sticks his tongue out in the second. For the third one, he does duck lips, but then he realizes that might look too much like he’s blowing a kiss and he starts to panic.

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The NPC for Me | 6,190 | 74days

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Slowly, Slowly | 10,268 | orphan_account

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2024 Reclists · INBOX · Blog Updates

#zimbits #bitty/jack #jack/bitty #bitty x jack #jack x bitty #zimbits reclist #check please #check please reclist #fanfic reclist

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bucking-mustangs-with-wings · 7 months ago

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part of my Barbed Wire Hearts AU: Rodeo Clown!Curt x Rodeo Paramedic!Ken

@swifty-fox @trashbag-baby666

Still a little giddy, emotions running on absolute high, Curt couldn't wipe the damn smile from his face no matter how much he tried. Couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from continuing to lift, a by-product of finally, finally having the courage to ask Ken to meet him at the quaint little bar on the main street of the town they were all currently calling home for the time-span of this particular rodeo. He couldn't get the image of Ken's shy little smile at his words, the blue eyes of the other boy twinkling like a northern star and aimed at Curt despite him currently treating a moaning cowboy's cut knee, blood covering his gloves. Curt realised a moment too late though that he should have worked more on hiding the current glee painted all over his face when he walked back to the other boys, all sitting together now that the rodeo had died down for the day. Bucky took one look at him, grinning from ear to ear before the bullrider's own lips quirked up into a sly smirk, a low whistle aimed in Curt's direction. "Well well well, what's got you grinning like a lovesick school-girl, Curt? Wouldn't have anything to do with a certain cute curly blond haired paramedi-" He was only just able to dodge the quite rapid flying boot that Curt had leant down and pulled off his own foot to peg at Bucky's smug face, the shorter man still sporting an overjoyed grin even in the face of Bucky's indignant and offended squawk.

#barbed wire hearts au #mota au #masters of the air au #curt x ken #curtis biddick #curt biddick #ken lemmons #rodeo clown curtis biddick #rodeo paramedic ken lemmons #ken x curt #mota #masters of the air #my stuff #my writing #Spotify

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lovinbarzal · 1 year ago

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BREAK UP? | OUR SONG AU

wyatt johnston x fem! barzal! reader

our song au masterlist

a/n i thought this was a funny idea lmao and hollywoodpop isn't a real thing i just made it up

hollywoodpop has posted !

liked by randoacc1, randoacc2, and others

hollywoodpop *BREAKING NEWS!!!!*

Inside sources have sent in that young upcoming singer/actor, Y/n Barzal, and rookie centerman for the Dallas Stars, Wyatt Johnston, have split after 2 years together.

Source said, "Y/n was crying outside of a donut shop. She looked heartbroken. When walking by, I heard her mention Wyatt and then her brother (Forward for the NYI, Mat Barzal) gave her hug."

What are you opinions?👀👀

load comments

fanacc1 didn't he just post her yesterday?

fanacc2 what is going on in the house of commons!!

y/nbarzal @/wyattjohnston we broke up?😭

↳ wyattjohnston_ 💀

jackhughes this is golden😂

kenzie yes, everyone they broke up! me and y/n can now have our wedding in Hawaii!

fanacc3 they didn't break up lmaoo

edwards.73 this was not on 2023 bingo card

↳ y/nbarzal wasn't on mine either

y/nbarzal has posted !

liked by wyattjohnston_, markestapa, and others

y/nbarzal i guess me and pookie broke up? (we're happily still together and i was crying cause i missed him)

load comments

wyattjohnston_ let's be clear she dumped me! (i love my sugar with my whole heart💓)

↳ y/nbarzal butthurt (i love you too, pookie🤞🏼)

markestapa yay! my parents are still together!

jackhughes measurements

↳ y/nbarzal absolutely

fanacc1 i genuinely thought my otp broke up...i was so sad

fanacc2 if they ever break up then love is dead

barzal97 i'll take wyatt after the divorce

↳ y/nbarzal you legally have to take me, assface

↳ barzal97 you should be banned from life

trevorzegras my children

↳ y/nbarzal mama?

kenzie damn it🫡

↳ y/nbarzal smooch💋

jpav8 wait what happened?

↳ wyattjohnston_ nothing pav! everything is absolutely ok!

fanacc3 otp 🔛🔝

dallasstars 💚✨

tseguin92 kate had a heart attack when she read that article...she was ready to fly to your house...

↳ y/nbarzal i live laugh love kate <3

#our song au #wyatt johnston #wyatt johnston x reader #dallas stars #nhl #ig edit #x reader #lovinbarzal writings

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offside-the-lines · 1 year ago

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tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 2. Winter

This is a completed series! Read Full Fic | 🧸 Series Cover Page/Masterlist 🧁 | 🎵 Playlist 🎶 << Previous Episode || Ep 2 || Next Episode >>

Chapter Summary: Tito injures his wrist in the first game of 2024, he’s out for 6-8 weeks and then his car breaks down. He thinks maybe he’s cursed. Evie becomes a shoulder to lean on. Barzy gets suspicious.

A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits. This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.

Word count: 4.4k // 44.5k

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I. Winter

Evie — December 31

In the past few days, her text chain with Tito has settled into a nice rhythm. At first, it was a couple of texts a day: when one of them saw a funny Instagram post or reel, they would send it to the other.

Things changed on Friday when she broke her usual routine of curling up on her couch with a blanket and book and instead found herself watching Tito's game. Her book lay untouched in her lap as her eyes tracked number 91 across the ice. After the game, she stayed up later than she meant to, eagerly picking up her phone every time it vibrated with a new text from Tito.

So, she concluded, I watch hockey now.

Which is why Evie ends up being late for the New Year’s party that Kelsey had invited her to. She couldn’t bear to leave when she had planned to, watching as the score kept ratcheting up for the wrong team. Her stomach curled every time Tito’s frustrated face is shown.

To Tito 🌞🏒: i’m sorry about the loss, tito. fucking sucks. i hope you’ll still try to enjoy your new year’s eve?

By the time she gets to the party, she’s glad she can slip in among the partygoers without much fuss; everyone’s already a little tipsy on champagne. She knows she keeps pulling out her phone to check her notifications, but she can only hope she doesn't seem too rude.

It’s almost 11:30 pm when her phone buzzes, and she’s surprised to see it’s an incoming call and not a text. She slips out to the balcony as she connects the call.

Tito’s voice comes through too loud, “Evie!”

She laughs, “Hi, Tito. You good?”

“Yeah, you said I should enjoy my New Year’s Eve, so I went out with some of the guys,” he says, his words slurring ever so slightly. Evie can hear the background noise dim through the phone as if he had also stepped outside.

“New Year’s Eve in Dallas; you living it up?”

He laughs, “Dickie’s taken us to some fancy bar he used to go to. There’s a bunch of the Stars guys here too. Not that I really want to see them right now,” he groans.

“God, yeah. I saw, I’m sorry. That was a rough way to end the year.”

“Yeah, well…” He clears his throat and tries to inject some levity into his voice, “I don’t want to think about that right now. We’re trying to have fun, right? What're you up to?”

“Kelsey— my coworker— she’s also friends with Leanne— she invited me to a party. I’m at someone’s penthouse apartment. I have no idea whose. It’s pretty cool, though— Great view. There’s a lot of people, actually.”

Tito whistles. “A lot of choices for a midnight kiss then, eh?”

“I guess?” she laughs. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not that much,” he says unconvincingly. Evie can picture him scrunching his face at his own blatant lie.

“Okay,” she laughs, “I’ll have to let you go back then. Get some more champagne in you.”

“Nah,” he whines a little. “No midnight kisses in there. Fuck! I’m going to be even more unlucky next year if I don’t get a kiss.”

It startles a laugh out of her. “Anthony, buddy, I don’t think that’s a thing,” she chuckles, shaking her head.

He hums and doesn’t say anything else.

“Are you making friends at least?” she asks.

“Eh… more like passing time. A party’s a party, right?”

“Come on, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“They’re not!” he says a little too loud before repeating himself, “They’re not bad. That isn't what I meant. I just… I don’t know. I don’t really know if we’re friends, so much, just teammates.”

Evie softens. “Jason and Alandra were nice. They seemed to be trying to be your friend, at least. I bet he had to drag you out tonight.”

“Yeah, he’s cool. It’s just—” He groans. “I think we’re both a little too drunk to try to figure out the difference between a buddy in the league who I’ll spend a couple of months playing with and will almost never talk to again and a friend.”

Leanne catches her eye through the glass and raises an eyebrow in question. Evie sends a small smile back.

“It’s tough, Tito, to move around. I’m sorry this year has been so fucked for you as well.” She sighs. “Listen, I gotta get back inside. Leanne's making weird faces at me. And you should go back inside, too.”

She hears Tito suck in a shallow breath, voice once again full of false cheer, “Of course, of course. Shit, sorry for being a fucking downer. I promise I’ll go back inside and have a good time.”

“Have fun, dude. You’re a hot professional athlete at a fancy bar on New Year’s Eve. I think you’re not going to have any trouble finding someone to kiss at midnight.”

“You think I’m hot?” his voice genuinely lightens; she could hear the smile lighting up his face.

“Goodnight, Tito,” she laughs pointedly, “Happy New Year.”

She hears him finally let out another genuine laugh, a sound that warms her despite the cold Chicago air, “Happy New Year, Evie. I’m really glad we reconnected last week. It’s nice to have a friend in the city.”

And with that, they hang up, and she slips back into the throng of party-goers. She doesn’t get far before Leanne catches her elbow.

“What was that?” Leanne asks, handing over a new champagne glass.

“Oh. It was Tito.”

Leanne’s eyebrows immediately jump. “Oh yeah? You guys are calling now?”

“I mean, I guess? That’s the first time we’ve called so,” she shrugs.

“Mhmm,” Leanne hums, clearly unconvinced, a smirk lacing her lips.

Evie bumps her shoulder. “Oh, shut up. His team just lost 8-1 on New Year’s Eve. It fucking sucked. Cut him some slack.”

“Yikes. Okay, in the spirit of the season, I’ll let it slide just this once.”

Evie laughs and rolls her eyes, letting herself relax into the drink and the rhythm of the people celebrating around her.

Evie — January 2

To Tito 🌞🏒: shit, just saw the hit. are you okay?!!

Evie sits on her couch and stares at her silent phone, her knee bouncing. She hasn’t been able to sit still since she saw the hit, and it just got worse with each replay, so she turned her TV off. But now, she's just sitting in unsettling silence— I’m not entirely sure that this is better.

She checks her phone again. It has been 15 minutes since she watched Tito skate himself off the ice, clutching his left arm. She calms herself with the thought that his silence doesn’t mean there’s something very wrong; if they were running tests, it might just take a while before he sees his phone.

She decides to make a cup of tea and pick up her book again. It makes her feel a little settled, but not enough, as she’s still checking her phone every few seconds. If she’s honest, she's just reading the same page over and over.

Finally, an hour later, her phone lights up, and she picks it up so fast it almost flies out of her hand.

Tito 🌞🏒: doc says it’s probably broken. they’ve immobilized it but i have to come home for more tests.

“Shit,” she says to her empty apartment, hitting Dial on her phone. She fiddles with a loose thread on her shorts as the call tone rings before she finally hears the click of Tito picking up.

“Tito,” she says too loud, leaping up from her couch. Her book crashes to the floor, startling her; she sits back down in embarrassment.

“Hey,” his voice sounds tired.

“Hey,” she responds, voice gentler, “Shit, I’m so sorry about your wrist, Tito.”

He sighs, “Yeah. It was so fucking stupid. I shouldn’t’ve had my hand like that there.”

“Hey! Dude, no. This is not your fault. And maybe it’s not the other guy's fault, either. But it’s definitely not your fault. How many times have you done the exact same thing and not been hurt? It’s not your fault.”

Tito’s silent for a bit; she listens to the jagged ins and outs of this breath. Eventually, with a voice so quiet, she’s only able to hear him due to the utter silence in her apartment: “Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

She feels a lump form in her throat and tries to clear it away. “You said they’re sending you home?”

“Yeah. It’s definitely broken, so I won’t be playing for a while. It’s probably too late for a flight tonight, so I’m probably going to be on an early one tomorrow.”

They're both silent for a moment, letting that hang in the air.

“Can I pick you up from the airport?”

“You really don’t have to do that. The team’ll pay for a Lyft.”

“Are you going to be on pain meds?”

“Yeah. I’m already feeling it, to be honest,” Tito says with a light laugh.

“Are they sending you back alone?”

“Yeah, it isn't a concussion, so I don’t need supervision.”

“Okay. Then, I would like to pick you up if that’s okay.”

“I—” He pauses for a long time, breaths getting heavier. When he continues talking, his voice comes through thick, “I really don’t want to put you out, but if you’re offering, I would really like that.”

“Well, I'm offering, so I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me the deets?”

“Yeah.” She feels something in her chest loosen. “And Evie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She chuckles, “No problem. Text me. And try to have a good sleep.”

“You too,” he whispers, pausing before hanging up.

Putting her phone down on the coffee table, she lets out a shaky breath.

Evie — January 3

“Are you sure you want me to drop you off at yours?” Evie asks, looking over to Tito in her passenger seat. His curls poke out under the hood of his sweater, and his skin looks pale and clammy. His usually bright blue eyes are dulled, shadowy smudges betraying his lack of sleep.

He sends her a soft smile before closing his eyes and leaning back against the headrest. “Yes, please.” His voice sounded as tired as he looked.

“Okay.”

Evie reaches over and gives his good hand a light squeeze before pulling away from the airport. She keeps the drive to his apartment quiet, and she's surprised that she feels less tense than on her drive to O’Hare despite the silence.

Every so often, she peeks over at Tito, cradling his wrist, eyes closed, and face carefully neutral. She doesn’t feel good about leaving him alone in his apartment, but she also knows that they haven’t known each other long enough for her to insist.

Half an hour later, she pulls into the entrance of a very fancy-looking apartment building in the center of Downtown Chicago. The doorman helps them unload Tito’s suitcase and drags it into the lobby for him.

Too soon, they're left standing at the curb.

“Thank you so much,” Tito says, his tired eyes warming a little as he regards her.

“It’s absolutely no problem. Please let me know if you need any help, okay? I make my own hours and work from home for a reason. Call me anytime.”

His smile broadens. “Seriously, Evie. Thank you. You didn’t have to come get me.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

Tito leans in for a hug that Evie reciprocates, careful to avoid his broken hand. They stay connected for a few seconds longer than normal, but neither complains.

“Alright, I’ll leave you be then,” Evie says after they disconnect, stepping into her car with a nod.

Tito remains at the curb, one hand in a sling, the other reaching up for a wave as she pulls away. His figure stays in her rearview until she turns the corner.

Tito — January 11

The days that follow the injury become monotonous quickly. Tito wakes up. He does his morning routine. He takes his pain meds. He rides with Foligno and Bedard into the training facility. He gets poked at by some doctors and told to not do anything with his hand. He rides the bike by himself while everyone else gets to skate. He avoids Bedsy angrily pouting in the hallways; not his rookie, not his problem. He goes home and sits on his couch, just clicking play on whatever comes up on Netflix. He eats his microwavable frozen meal plan. He watches the team drop three of four games. He sleeps.

Rinse and repeat.

It has only been a week, and he's close to losing his mind already. The only bright spots are his ongoing text conversation with Evie, and his daily FaceTime calls with Barz. The boxes still sit unopened in the corner; well, at least he has a good excuse now.

Today was meant to be a break in the monotony. While the team is on a short road trip, Tito’s schedule is a little different. No one ever talks about how uncomfortable it is to drive with a broken wrist. The facility is only 15 minutes away, so he figures that he’ll go in to see the trainers and maybe do some grocery shopping afterward.

The plan was going quite well until he noticed that he had a flat tire on his way to the grocery store.

He pulls over to the side of the road and just sits there for a minute, fighting the urge to cry. He rests his forehead on the steering wheel, letting out a small scream before he gets out to assess the damage. He mutters a few choice swears when he eventually finds the big nail in his tire.

He pulls out his phone and texts Evie while he returns to the driver's seat.

To evie 🧁: i told you my year would be unlucky [attachment: photo of his flat tire]

He starts looking for the roadside assistance card, but since it's a new rental, he’s still frustratedly fumbling around when his phone rings.

“Hello?” he answers, not even looking at his phone.

“Tito, what’s going on?”

He pauses his rustling, surprised to hear Evie’s warm voice pouring through the sound system. The familiarity of the French immediately relaxes him. He sighs.

“Oh, um. I was driving to the store. And I just realized the tire was flat. I think the hole has been there for a while, but because of the wrist and stuff, I hadn’t driven since before the roadie.”

“Shit. That’s annoying. Where are you? You wanna drop me a pin or something. I can help you change your tire; you definitely can’t do it with a broken wrist.”

He pauses, surprised by the offer. “Oh! Um… I was just going to call roadside assistance. If I can just find the card…”

“Don’t be stupid. That’s gonna take ages. If you’re close by, I can come help.”

“Um… Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she huffs, “I could use a break from the computer anyway. I’ll grab my coat and keys.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’m probably not far away because I just left the training center like 5 minutes ago.”

“Sweet, no problem. Drop me a pin, and I’ll be right there.”

In less than 10 minutes, Evie is stepping out of her car in her wool coat, leather gloves, and an oversized winter scarf that cocoons her up to her nose. She smiles and waves as she jogs over to give him a tight hug. Whatever tension was left in his body from the long week drains from his body as her arms wrap tightly around him.

They remain connected for a few seconds, his face buried in the mess of scarf and hair around her neck; her perfume fills his lungs with warmth despite the cold Chicago winter air.

“Thanks again for coming.”

“Stop thanking me. My god.” She exaggeratedly rolls her eyes as they finally separate. She starts getting all the tools as she says, “I want to help the city’s best winger. It’s a public service. I’ll forward the bill to the owner. Or maybe even the mayor.”

It startles a laugh out of him, relaxed by her light-heartedness. He realizes that he has been kind of down recently, only leaving his apartment for meetings with trainers.

“Well, I hope you’ll charge them a fair rate, considering the express service surcharge. You did get here very quickly.”

She nods mock-sternly, “Yes, of course.”

With all the necessary tools laid out next to her, she bends down to begin jacking up the car. He fishes out his snow jacket from the trunk and hands it to her.

“Here. So you don’t have to kneel on the ground.”

She smiles up at him from where she’s knelt, “Thanks.”

The rest of the tire change happens in silence; Tito’s content to let her focus on what she’s doing. He watches intently and doesn't want to acknowledge his embarrassment that, at 26 years old, he still doesn't know how to change a tire.

As she’s working, it starts to snow lightly. The flakes stand out against her glossy coffee-dark hair that has fallen to curtain her face, and Tito resists the urge to brush it back so she can see better in the overcast dimness. He stuffs his hands in his pockets to have something to do with them.

When she’s done a short while later, she spins around, still kneeling, beaming up at him with pride as she sings, “Voila!”

At that moment, as she sparkles up at him, their eyes meet, and a snowflake catches on her eyelashes. It hits him square in the chest; this might be the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. The realization knocks into him so unexpectedly that he has to fight through the tightness in his throat to exclaim back in excitement.

“Awesome!” he strains.

“Yep!” Her voice is bright and melodic as she turns back to lower the car. “It’s all done. You’re going to need to get this tire patched or something at a shop, though, and—”

She continues to explain some important details that are totally lost on him as he tries to quash the twisting of his guts. She is indeed beautiful, engaging, and scarily competent, but none of that matters.

None of that matters because his stay in Chicago is temporary. So he takes that feeling and shoves it down deep. But, he hopes that a transient athlete who is, as it turns out, not very good at his job will adequately fulfill the role of Good Friend.

Being a good friend is something he can do.

Being a good friend is something he’s good at.

“— groceries for dinner, if you want?”

He tunes back in just in time to catch the end of what she's saying. Maybe he should also retract the previous statement about being a good friend.

“Um, I’m sorry. I’m feeling kinda out of it. What was the question?”

She laughs and squeezes his elbow sympathetically. “Tito, it’s okay. You’re kinda pale right now. Like, you look like you’re gonna be sick. Look, I know you said you were going to the grocery store, but I really don’t think you should be driving and stuff right now. I’ve got plenty of food at mine. I was probably going to cook pasta or something tonight. Just come over and hang out? It’ll make me feel better.”

He mulls it over, and the dull throbbing in his wrist convinces him to nod. It does sound much better than what he had been doing this past week.

So they do just that. Tito isn't complaining: not about the delicious home-cooked meal or watching B99 again. He didn’t realize he was waiting to watch it with her. They find themselves pausing the show numerous times just to chat about something the show brings up: a memory from childhood, something from her life in Toronto or his life in New York, or just a passionate opinion that they have.

He's burrowed deep into the opposite end of her couch with the latest cup of tea she has made him, feeling more at home than he has in over a month when he discovers the time is so much later than he thought.

“Oh crap, it’s past 10 pm. I really should get going,” Tito says, finally sitting up.

“Shit, I didn’t even see that,” she laughs. Evie looks out the window. “You know. It’s really late, you’re on pain meds, and the roads look kinda slippery with the new snow. Why don’t you just stay here? This couch actually has a really comfy pull-out bed— my brother Will said so anyway when he visited.”

“Oh,” he pauses, comfortable and heavy-limbed but uncertain, “I don’t really have anything with me.”

“That should be okay. I’ve got a bunch of extra toiletries and some of Brandy and Will’s clothes.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, if that’s really okay with you, I’d love to not have to drive home with my wrist. It sucks.”

“Of course,” she smiles, reaching over and squeezing his knee before standing up and walking into her bedroom.

He figures he should help, so he moves the warm fuzzy blanket she had over her legs and the throw pillows to the corner of the room. He clears the tea mugs that litter the coffee table before pushing it back. He’s inspecting the couch for the pull-out function when Evie returns with a small pile of sheets and clothes and a few pillows.

“Oh, thanks for clearing the space!” She smiles at him brightly. “So, I found you a T-shirt and some sweatpants. There are spare toiletries under the sink.”

“Thanks. You’re truly the best.”

“You are so right,” she winks, laughing softly.

They put together the couch-bed in tandem, and both take turns getting ready for sleep. Eventually, Evie, in her pajamas, bids him goodnight warmly before shutting her bedroom door, and he's left lying on the pull-out bed looking around at the living room, lit only by the city lights streaming through with big windows.

Tito — January 19

“Wait, so you’re telling me you’ve been replacing me with this girl, and you haven’t even bothered to introduce us?”

“Okay, Barz, that’s a little dramatic. I have not been replacing you.” Tito desperately pleads with his eyes for Mat to stop talking so loud in this somewhat nice Italian restaurant he and Evie had discovered a few nights ago.

“No, seriously. Why didn’t you invite her? You should invite her. You know what? I’ll do it. Hand me your phone—” Mat makes a desperate grab for Tito’s phone that was sitting face down on the table.

Tito puts his hand on it and whispers. “Dude, stop it. I’d like to come back here again sometime. The food’s actually so good.”

Mat grins and wiggles his eyebrows, “Oooh, come back here again, like on a date with Evie?” he says, dragging out her name in a suggestive tone.

“No, Barz. Not a date. We’ve been over this. We’re just hanging out- like you and me. We’re friends. That’s it. Neither of us even wants to date right now anyway.”

“Okay, bud. If you say so.” Mat rolls his eyes while taking a sip of his wine. “So, you’re saying if you were both open to dating, you’d be interested.”

“No— Well—” Tito pauses and sighs. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. And it’s not what’s happening, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, come on, Beau. I’ve known you for ages, dude. There is no way— you’re telling me that you’ve seen her almost every single day, for most of the day, this whole month, and you haven’t even thought about it?”

Tito sighs pointedly, clenching his jaw. “Yes. I haven’t thought about it. Because there’s nothing to think about. We text. We hang out. We watch TV and eat food. We—” He cuts himself off abruptly. He knows if he mentions the sleepovers, even though he's always on the pull-out couch, Mat will take it the wrong way. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I get to see you, like, twice during the season. I want to hear all your dumb stories.”

Mat eyes him skeptically but eventually relents. “My stories aren’t dumb. But okay. So, last week…” he excitedly recounts.

The night returns to a familiar rhythm. He misses this: the easy conversation with a guy who’s known you for ten years. There are no awkward lulls or having to explain a joke or backstory. It’s just comfortable, and it feels like home: a warmth burrowed deep in his chest.

There’s a gaping vacancy that gnaws at him later when he’s lying in his own bed, unable to sleep. It’s almost as if Mat took that feeling of home with him when he gave him a lingering hug goodbye, squeezing Tito so hard it hurt a little.

He stares at the ceiling and thinks about how his favorite sleep shirt— one of his early Islanders t-shirts with a 72 on it— was still at Evie’s apartment. He also thinks about the hoodie that he left there.

The team's about to head on an extended roadie while he remains behind, doing not much. He hates it when he’s the one left behind watching the team play without him. That’s the thing with professional sports. You’re around a team all day, every day, for most of the year. You know everything about everyone. You’re almost never alone. Which makes it all the more stark when you’re with a new group of faces. Or when you’re suddenly stuck at home, injured, and alone.

He leans over and picks up his phone, the sudden brightness of the screen making him squint.

To evie 🧁 : hey, so on second thought, if the offer still stands, i’d like to stay over this week? totally okay if you changed your mind. just figured it’d be nice to have some company, and you’re much closer to the rink. To evie 🧁: and you still have my favorite hoodie. i want it back.

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tragicallyuncreative · 3 months ago

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Before The Fall: Chapter 3 Excerpt

Never fear, posting this excerpt doesn't mean the next update is far out. In fact, I have only a couple more paragraphs and some editing to do and should be posting by the end of the day, but I'm tired and procrastinating my clinical paperwork and worked so long on this stupid paragraph that I had to share it. Enjoy, friends.

Darrel

I thanked my lucky stars that Dally wasn’t here. He sure wouldn’t help our case. Still, even I had to admit that Dallas Winston had been a lifesaver following the wreck. He’d wanted to skip town the minute he heard the news; I could tell. The pain and grief was simply too much to stand, the loss of the first parental figures he’d ever had, the people who’d opened their home and hearts to him and given him a place of stability in his sea of chaos. He’d spent his life running the minute things got tough, using escape as a coping mechanism. But like it or not, Tulsa was his home now, and we were his family. He needed to be somewhere where it was physically impossible to escape his circumstances and have a “healthy” outlet for his rage. I knew it was only a matter of time before he got there, but he held out long enough to attend the funeral. Whether it was out of respect for mom and dad or to support us, I didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. He spent the week and a half after the accident helping out around the house, keeping Pony and Soda company, producing a decent sum of money from unknown places that I was almost too proud to accept, and helping me navigate the legal system (he claimed I needed an “inside man” who knew the courts intimately). He stood silently beside us at the funeral, head bowed and face set. The minute the graveside service was over, he did something he’d never done before; pulled my brothers and I each into a rough, firm hug. He then ruffled Johnny’s hair, told Steve and Two-Bit to “take care of them,” crossed the street, and belted the first Soc he saw, so hard he knocked the guy's front teeth clean out of his mouth. Of course, he strategically did this right in front of a cop, who had him down on the ground and was cuffing him so fast I almost missed it. The gang had stared, dumbstruck, as they led him away, but I saw the triumphant gleam in his eyes as they shoved him into the back of the squad car. He’d gotten what he wanted.

#the outsiders #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders musical #ao3 #dallas winston #darrel curtis #tragicallyuncreativewrites

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crossbackpoke-check · 2 months ago

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find a blorbo (nhl tag game)

RULES: Go through the roster of each NHL team and find at least one player that you can root for.

tagged by @bondedpairs!! when i say too many teams to count and here for the narrative um. i may not have lied. this is not an extensive list of my blorbos but in order to make it not ten thousand years long i made up the rule that i had to do it straight from memory :)

anaheim ducks: as evidenced by recent events i DO like mason mctavish and trevor zegras but i have to honor laura and mention troy terry and beloved goalie gibbie*

boston bruins: oh for sure brad marchand… can i say patrice? one of the charlies got traded but i think mcavoy is still there because gryz is gone, brandon carlo is there still i think

buffalo sabres: cozens & thompson, owen power, rasmus dahlin, ukko pekka luukkonen

calgary flames: is chris tanev still here? is markstrom still here?? noah hanifin?? as a last resort i’ll say blasty

carolina hurricanes: aho & jarvy & teuvo teravainen & brent burns is still playing maybe? i know sepe got traded

chicago hockey: the bedsy narrative is compelling but ANDREAS ATHANASIOU MY BELOVED reunited with tyler bertuzzi… that’s the real story. also i like foligno

colorado avalanche: gabe landeskog, whatever ross colton & miles wood have going on, natemac + jo, mikko

columbus blue jackets: have long been on the merzlikins train, have been swayed to the darkside of umich boys (brindley, kent johnson, fantilli, blankenburg who is now on nsh)

dallas stars: seggy! mush! roope + miro and otter and robo and wyjo (rip ty dellandrea) and harls! etc.

detroit red wings: MOST players. dilly larks, moritz seider, jv, raymond, rasmussen, kitty, lyon, etc except for k*ne

edmonton oilers: mcdrai, ofc. nugent-hopkins, nursey, rip vinny & skinny

florida panthers: tkachuk, reinhardt, sasha barkov, verhaeghe (is there still?)

los angeles kings: adrian kempe… kevin fiala… danault… quinton byfield & alex turcotte

minnesota wild: kirill, marat, fleury, brodes, fabes, boldy, moose, middsy, spurge… god’s perfect idiots

montreal canadiens: going out on a limb here to say martin st. louis but also xhekaj (both), slafkovský, suzuki, my austrian reinbacher, yes fine cole caufield

nashville predators: MOST BEAUTIFUL D PAIR IN THE WORLD GRADY SKJEI AND ROMAN JOSI!! juuse, evangelista, isn’t stamkos there and also someone else who absolutely should not be

new jersey devils: nico… tuna (tatar), dawson mercer, siegenthaler, dougie hamilton, yes the hugheses whatever

new york islanders: barzy, zeeker & marty, anders lee, noah dobson lol

new york rangers: mika & chris, lafrenière & k’andre, shesterkin

philadelphia flyers: frosty & beezer and tk and sanny and the new baby michkov and coots and scooty loots and foerster etc etc. you know the Guys

pittsburgh penguins: the two headed monster but also compelled by rutger mcgroarty, and kevin hayes was there!!!

ottawa senators: timmy stü & brady! josh norris! the evolution of shane pinto! ullmark now and brännström and claude giroux and chabot

san jose sharks: ekky, thrun, mario, borde, logan couture, shakir, that other vaguely blond rookie

seattle kraken: brandon tanev, andre burakovsky! grubauer & d’accord also

st. louis blues: jordan kyrou, nathan walker (is still there?), rob thomas? is parayako still there?

tampa bay lightning: hedman, point, they dumped so many guys after the cup run… is kucherov still there or is he in nashville?? anthony cirelli (notable for being made out with by pat maroon)

toronto maple leafs: mitch, jt, willy, alex nylander, kniesy, dewar, et

utah hockey: crouse, keller, tuba

vancouver canucks: quinn, brock, petey, jt, garly, höggy, i want to say dakota johnson, elias lindholm?

vegas golden knights: brandon montour is here now… alex pietrangelo, so sorry to one i can’t remember who loves the lions it will come back to me

washington capitals: full of love and stupidity. oshie, nicke/ovi, pierre-luc dubois, dowd, vrána, milano

winnipeg jets: adam lowry!! josh morissey and kc and morgan barron, also vladdy my beloved

tagging @stillfertile + @colap1nto + @songsandswords + @moregraceful if they haven’t done it yet, i know they follow at least a couple teams. if anybody else wants to play i love adopting blorbos!!

#it is literally my DREAM to get challenged by someone about how many hockey guys i can name because i am a freak like that #and i make up arguments in my head for fun. please Try Meeeee #me when i wear all of my different crewnecks out & make up an imaginary argument where i have to list five guys from every team… ok why not #in doing this i hope i expose so many of you to narratives and also don’t show my ass because we’re at the point in the season where i go #‘he got traded WHERE???’ & i forget where everyone got moved around 🫡 everyone who watches a game has to deal with me regularly going WAIT #tag games #liv in the replies #this is secretly just a love letter to everyone i follow who got me invested in these narratives. i WILL adopt ur interests &speech pattern #and like. it very much does NOT even come close to reflecting the narratives i have and will be invested in #hated my own rule as soon as i made it but it prevented me from creating an even MORE elaborate set of rules which was like. would you #actually root for this guy playing hockey vs are these all narrative characters so you need to them be able to back it up with a fic #which. given that it’s BLORBO i was like none of them are about to named on the basis of their hockey and also i am a giant hater #if you’re playing the red wings i want you to lose if the red wings are out i cannot guarantee who i will root for. it is up to The Spirit #this took me too long… worth it #like I don’t know as if i’ll ever make a proper pinned post but this is high in contention simply for the fact that i just Talk about Guys #you guys missed the part where i tried to do it in alphabetical order but completely forgot all teams that started with a p and colorado #among other teams and then i had to google ‘32 nhl teams’ because i could not for the life of me figure out who i was missing. rip ottawa #which is so funny because i love so many guys on their team. like. this list is such evidence of my BLANKING on the spot under pressure.#*everyone who saw this say stolarz no you didn’t. listen i knew ONE of them had gotten traded 😭 and literally during the pre-season det/tor #game today i heard ‘stolarz’ and went OH FUCK NO OH NO and wheezed my way here to fix it.

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