#I’ve been to Kelowna it’s a lovely place

[malcolm-reeds-pineapple]

Listen Jonas Quinn from Kelowna is such a normal fucking person. That is not an alien! That is a man in his early 20s from Kelowna, British Colombia, Canada, who gives longboard tours of Ogopogo sightings around the Okanagan!

[laurenairay]

Summer days pass me by - T. Jost

“I feel like I’m stuck, doing the same thing over and over with the same nothing at the end. I need to do something new. Wanna help me make this the best summer ever?”

“You do know that sounds like the start of a coming of age film, right?”

Summary: Mollie Thomas has been friends with Tyson Jost since they were children – but this summer by the lake could change everything.

Warnings: childhood friends to lovers, some bad language, a little angst

Word Count: 9.5k

A/N: I love Tyson Jost so much – this is a super indulgent fic that I started back in August 2020, and it’s been one hell of a journey writing it, including a complete rewrite about 2/3 through. This OC was actually the first one I ever attempted on hockeyblr, although I’ve since written a fair few in stories I've since posted over the years, and she holds a special place in my heart.

This Tyson blurb I wrote in July 2022 is what inspired me to rewrite this story (and thank you @bqstqnbruin for all the encouragement to finish it!).

~

If there was one thing about summer that Mollie Thomas loved the most, it was being by the lake. As soon as the weather was good enough, she would head up there with friends to relax, have barbecues and mess around on the water. Being by the lake simply was the epitome of summer, sunshine and friendship – she’d grown up doing it, her parents trusting her to go alone since the age of 15, and now 10 years later (despite some friends moving away), she still loved nothing more than watching the days roll on by from the lakeshore.

Utter bliss.

Mollie had been teaching history at the local Kelowna high school ever since graduating from the local college three years ago, and when the weather started getting consistently sunny, she even went up to the lake some evenings after work, depending on who was around. But now that the end of the school year was approaching, she would no longer be restricted to the occasional evening after work, and she honestly couldn’t wait.

Why? Because soon one of her best friends would be coming back to Kelowna for the summer. Tyson Jost.

Mollie had known Tyson ever since he’d moved to Kelowna to live with his grandparents when he was 13, his family's house being down the road from Mollie’s family. Her older brother John had been on the same hockey team as Tyson, so he’d always been around – but with John being a couple of years older than them, Tyson and Mollie had become fast friends.

Sure, things had become harder when Tyson had gotten more serious with ice hockey. When Mollie’s brother John had quit playing, choosing to focus on school instead, Mollie had been worried that they wouldn’t want to hang out any more – but that wasn’t the case. Hockey or no hockey, Tyson had always been there for her, and she knew she could count on him for anything.

He was the guy that encouraged her to get out of her comfort zone. He was the guy that turned to her for help asking out his first girlfriend Sarah Cooper. He was the guy that punched her first boyfriend for kissing Jenny Prince behind her back. He was the guy that made her laugh down the phone when college had been stressful. He was the only guy that she would wear another team’s colours for whenever he played against the Canucks. He was the guy that called her with a broken heart when the Avs had traded him. He was the guy that she looked forward to seeing most every summer, and she couldn’t wait to see him this year.

She missed him – who could blame her?

It was a Sunday afternoon, just about to head into the last week of the school year, and Mollie was soaking up the sun by the lake with some of her best friends; Bryony, Louis, Michael, Chase and Allison. There had been other people hanging out with them in the morning, including Mollie’s brother John and his wife Michelle, but the remaining six were the tightest group. So tight, that they’d all chipped in to rent a cottage together this summer, Allison’s uncle owning a couple in the area and offering them first dibs. Naturally, they’d all sprung at the chance of having a summer home base, even if not all of them were there all the time, so Mollie had that to look forward to starting next weekend, the moment that the school year ended. Bryony, Louis and Michael were also teachers, although across various different schools to Mollie, so at least she wouldn’t be the only one up at the cottage during the weekdays.

“Anyone for a refill?”

Mollie turned her head to the camping chair next to her, watching Bryony stand up and wiggle her empty can in the air. Mollie nodded, smiling at her friend, and a few others nodded too. As soon as Bryony walked away, Allison plunked down in the vacated seat, turning to Mollie with a grin.

Allison was probably Mollie’s closest girlfriend in Kelowna – also living on the same street as Mollie’s family – and while the two of them couldn’t have looked more different (Allison a curvaceous insta-airbushed blonde compared to Mollie’s chestnut hair and tomboy runner’s body), Allison had encouraged Mollie to be as confident and friendly as her, and Mollie was forever grateful. Sure, Allison was an incorrigible flirt and flitted between jobs, and sure Mollie had her moments where her anxiety got the better of her – but Allison was as close a friend to her as Tyson was, and Mollie loved that.

Even when Allison’s grin spelled troublemaker, like it did right now as Allison got comfy in Bryony’s vacated chair.

“So you know how my Uncle’s got me helping out with administration for his holiday home rentals this summer, in exchange for us getting our cottage for a lower price?” Allison prompted.

Mollie raised an eyebrow at the glee in her friend’s voice. Whatever it was, clearly she was excited about it – and considering that the cottage had been a good deal, clearly this was good gossip.

“Yeah, I remember…why?” Mollie mused.

“Well, a couple of cottages on this side of the lake have been rented…one of them by someone you know very well…”

Mollie knew her friend meant well, but this cryptic stuff was not helping.

“Out with it, Ally,” Mollie said bluntly.

“Tyson rented the cottage closest to ours for two months,” Allison grinned.

What?

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

“He’s going to be here all summer?” Mollie asked, excited.

“Yep! As far as I’ve heard, Tyson’s got some buddies coming up to stay with him at various points, and probably his sister too. I don’t know when or for how long, but there’s definitely enough rooms for all of them in that cabin to be there together so it’s going to be so much fun!” Allison told her, “Now that I think about it, I probably wasn’t meant to tell you. Tyson was probably keeping it as a surprise. Oops.”

Mollie just giggled, too happy to care that Tyson hadn’t said anything to her about his plans. It had been too long since she’d seen her childhood friend – summers just weren’t enough time with him – and knowing that he was going to be around for two solid months just made her heart soar. This was everything.

“Oh man, this is going to be the best summer,” Mollie sighed happily.

“Maybe this summer you and Tyson will finally admit how much you love each other.”

Mollie rolled her eyes, shaking her head. For some reason, Allison (and the rest of their other friends) had it in their heads that her friendship with Tyson was more than platonic. Sometimes it got really annoying because honestly nothing had ever happened between them (not even a hint of an almost) but she tried not to let it bug her. She knew where she stood with Tyson – yeah, he was incredibly handsome, with a good heart and a wonderful smile, but she wouldn’t trade their friendship for anything. Ever.

“We’re just friends, Ally-cat,” Mollie sing-songed, rolling her eyes.

“We’ll see,” Allison sing-songed back.

Honestly. Troublemaker.

Mollie ignored her friend’s laughter as she pulled out her phone, opening up her text thread with Tyson.

From: Mollie

A little birdy tells me you’ve rented a cabin by the lake for the summer…

Mollie barely had to wait a couple of minutes before her phone buzzed with a reply.

From: Tyson

I swear Ally can’t keep her mouth shut.

I was trying to surprise you!

Mollie giggled to herself, ignoring Allison’s wriggling eyebrows.

From: Mollie

Trust me, I’m surprised.

School finishes next week – I can’t wait to see you!

It really had been too long.

“Tell your future husband we miss him!” Allison crowed.

“Oh you’re texting Tyson? Say hi from me!” Chase grinned from across the chair circle.

Mollie stuck her tongue out at him as Allison cackled next to her. Her friends were such dicks sometimes.

From: Mollie

The gang say hi and that they all miss you

“Done, happy?” Mollie said dryly.

“Extremely,” Allison grinned, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“I don’t know why I like you at all,” Mollie said bluntly, although her smile gave away her lie.

Allison just wriggled her eyebrows again, earning laughter from the whole group and another eye roll from Mollie.

From: Tyson

Hi back from me!

I miss them too

I miss you the most

Mollie’s eyes widened slightly, a light flush warming her cheeks. What? Why was she reacting like this? Tyson said that all the time. Kind of. No, stop it. Mollie swallowed heavily, keeping her eyes down to avoid a reaction from their friends.

From: Mollie

I miss you too

With that, Mollie shoved her phone back into her pocket, just in time for Bryony to arrive with a fresh round of beers, which Mollie was more than grateful for. What was that all about?

~

“I am so ready for a drink.”

“Make it two,” Mollie mused, grinning at Allison’s words.

“Make it three,” Chase laughed, “I can’t wait to cool off in the lake, it’s too damn hot today.”

That was an understatement. The temperature was sweltering and even just thinking about jumping into the cold water was almost too much to bear. Mollie been waiting all week for this Friday evening – while the four of them who were teachers had been up at the lake during the week every day since their schools finished for the summer a week ago, Allison and Chase had weekday 9-5s, so Mollie had volunteered to drive back into town to bring them out for the weekend, finally bringing their big friendship group together in their rented cabin for the summer. Of course Mollie had visited her family (with her brother John and his wife Michelle reminding her they wouldn’t be up at the lake until next week) to fill the time while she waited for Allison and Chase to be ready, as well as stocking up on supplies, but now Mollie was more than ready to kick back and relax.

After she’d been in the water, of course.

Thankfully Mollie had put a bikini on underneath her clothes, just a simple little red thing, before picking up her friends today, so as soon as she’d parked outside their cabin, brought the cooler of drinks and snacks into the kitchen, and dumped her duffel bag by the stairs, she stripped off her clothes as she walked towards the tempting water. Bryony wolf-whistled as Mollie walked past the three who were already there, and Mollie just flipped them all off with a grin, kicking off her shoes quickly before taking off in a run down the dock and diving into the water.

Bliss.

Allison and Chase, both having stripped down to their swimsuits too, wasted no time in joining Mollie in the water, and all Mollie could do was smile as she resurfaced. This was summer. All of them together in glorious weather at the most beautiful place in Kelowna. What more could she ever want?

“LOOK WHAT THE CAT DRAGGED IN!”

Mollie turned her head at Michael’s hollering, grinning at the sight of the familiar figure walked over from the neighbouring cabin. Tyson. Mollie eagerly hauled herself back up onto the dock, slipping back into her shoes and picking up a towel from the stack at the beginning of the dock to dry herself off with as she walked back to the cabins, waving hello as she got closer.

“There you are.”

Mollie just grinned and threw her arms around Tyson’s neck, him just laughing as he picked her up, swinging her round in a circle, not seeming to care that she was getting him wet.

“You’d think you were happy to see me or something,” Tyson teased, setting her back on her feet.

“Oh hush, you know I am,” Mollie sighed happily, running the towel over her wet hair, “Are you happy to be back here?”

“You know it,” he nodded, smiling sweetly at her, “even more so knowing that I’m nowhere near Buffalo and that you’re here.”

Well Mollie would never say no to a bit of Tyson charm.

“Flattery gets you everywhere, Mr Jost,” she mused, trying to calm her racing heart.

It wasn’t fair that nothing about him had changed at all and yet somehow his pretty curls and pretty face were even more handsome since she’d last seen him. So unfair.

“HEY LOVEBIRDS!”

A shout from Bryony broke Mollie out of her thoughts, and she saw Tyson blush fiercely as they both looked at the group by the chairs to see them all smirking at the two of them. And to think it was usually Allison who was the troublemaker. Mollie just flipped them all double birds, earning laughter.

“We’d better go before people start talking eh?” she laughed, trying to hide her blush.

“Let them talk,” Tyson grinned, but starting walking over to the ring of chairs anyway.

It wasn’t fair that her stomach filled with butterflies at the simple sight of his smile.

As Louis handed Mollie a cold white claw, Tyson already having one in hand, she took the empty seat at Tyson’s side. By the time that Allison and Chase hauled themselves out the water to join the group, they were all well on their way to catching up.

They talked about Bryony and Louis still being together, their relationship going on 5 years strong. They talked about Allison losing another job, her uncle having taken pity on her and letting her do his administration for the summer cabins he owned. They talked about the school year, how parents and kids were a stressful nightmare most days now. They talked about Tyson’s season, sort of, Tyson just saying that he was happy to be back up from the AHL. They talked about Tyson’s sister Kacey, how she was kicking ass and taking names. They talked about Chase’s hard-earned promotion at work, finally getting the recognition he deserved. They talked about all the plans they had for the next two months here at the lake and the more they talked and drank and laughed, Mollie just sank back in her chair, taking everything in, soaking everything up.

This really was heaven.

Tyson noticed her relax back in her chair and just smiled at her, earning a genuine smile back. Yeah this was going to be a summer to remember, she could feel it.

~

Another couple of days passed at the lake cabin, Chase and Allison heading back into town while Tyson stayed at his place, and Mollie couldn’t be happier. Happy enough to make breakfast pancakes and bacon for Bryony, Louis and Michael after she showered following her early run around the lake, leaving it all in the oven for them with a note while she cleared up. Breakfast she could handle – it was the little things. She knew her friends would appreciate it anyway.

As she was taking out the trash though, she spotted Tyson doing exactly the same from his cabin, and waved enthusiastically at him, grinning as he laughed. He was clearly still adjusting to waking up early, same as she was – he still looked a little bleary eyed as they walked towards the end of their driveways.

“Good morning Tys!” she said cheerfully.

“Morning!” he mused.

She jogged over to him, Tyson catching her in a hug as she reached his side, making her laugh and squeeze him back tightly. Mornings like this were exactly what she had missed while he was away. As she pulled away though, her phone buzzed with a series of texts, and she pulled out her phone only to frown at the sender. Her ex. Ew. He really wasn’t getting the hint.

“Who’s making your face do that?”

Mollie cursed under her breath and tucked her phone away with.

“It’s no-one,” she said simply, willing him to let it go.

“No-one doesn’t make you grimace like that,” Tyson pointed out, “And it doesn’t make you hide it from me. So who is it?”

She really couldn’t pretend around him, could she? And it wasn’t like he hadn’t heard about her terrible ex boyfriends before.

“It’s my ex. Justin. It’s been six months since I caught him texting other girls with all the things he wanted to do to them, and while I don’t know if he physically cheated, I still kicked him to the curb the moment I found out. Every now and again he blows up my phone, even though I never answer him,” Mollie explained, “His mom even knows and yells at him for bugging me. He’ll get bored soon enough.”

Yeah, this latest ex wasn’t exactly one of her finest choices.

The deep frown that shifted onto Tyson’ face was an interesting reaction though.

“If he doesn’t leave you alone, tell me. I still know enough people in this town, and I can hunt him down and punch him if he doesn’t back off.”

A rush of heat went through her veins at his words, a flush spreading across her cheeks.

There was a flashback in her mind to when they were 15, when Tyson found out that her first boyfriend Todd kissed Jenny Prince behind her back, and sucker-punched him at school in her honour. It was a beautiful memory. And to know that he’d still defend her like that?

“You always were my knight in shining armour,” Mollie teased.

But Tyson just shrugged. “You know I’ve got your back no matter what. That’s what best friends are for.”

Such a sweetheart.

Something about his tone though, how seriously he’d taken her words, made Mollie keep her eye on Tyson throughout the day, and by the time that late afternoon rolled around when their barbecue was in full swing, she finally cornered him again. There was just something in his eyes that looked…tense. It wasn’t the Tyson she knew and it worried her that even in the most relaxing place in Kelowna, he still looked so stressed.

“Hey, Tys, fresh beer?”

Tyson smiled his thanks, taking it with a nod. There was no one else standing too closely so she didn’t feel bad for confronting him like this, not at all.

“So are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” she said softly.

Tyson’s eyes widened a little, before he huffed out a laugh.

“There’s no point hiding anything with you, is there?”

Just like her with him. But Mollie winced. “If there’s something you don’t actually want to talk about, then I’m not going to push. That’s the last thing I want.”

Tyson just nodded, taking a sip of his beer, as if to steel himself. Clearly this was more than passing worry. What was going on?

“Every summer I’ve ever had has been the same. Arrive back to Kelowna, get sympathy and pitying smiles for how shitty the season was, hanging about by the lake, train, start hockey again. I’m tired of it,” Tyson groaned.

“Tired of it?” she asked, confused, trying to understand what he meant.

Surely he didn’t mean he was tired of hockey? She knew how much the sport meant to him.

“I’m tired, Mollie. I feel like I’m stuck, doing the same thing over and over with the same nothing at the end. I need to do something new or I feel like I’m going to go crazy,” Tyson sighed.

Okay, okay that she could manage.

“It must be so frustrating, pouring your whole heart into the sport you love, and not getting the reward you deserve. And the fact that you still feel like this in the off season? That’s not good, Tys,” Mollie murmured, “What can I do to help?”

He sent her a sad smile.

“I’m not sure, really. If I don’t know what I can do, I don’t know what anyone else can do,” he said softly, “But being here with you right now, talking with you like this, I appreciate it. I don’t exactly trust many people with my full thoughts like this.”

That both saddened her and made her heart soar. The fact that he didn’t really have anyone else he could really talk to was devastating…but the fact that he trusted her enough? That was everything.

“Then we can talk and vent and rant and scream as much as you need. And we’ll build your happiness back up, just like you deserve. I’m here for you, Tyson,” she said firmly.

“Yeah?”

That smile would be the end of her, she just knew it.

“Yeah, I mean it,” she nodded, helpless to do anything but smile back.

“Wanna help me make this the best summer ever?” he grinned.

“You do know that sounds like the start of a coming of age film, right?” Mollie teased.

Tyson nudged her with his shoulder, earning a nudge back.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, hope filling his voice.

“Obviously,” she grinned.

How could she say no to him?

But as she looked into his eyes, there was something in his gaze that made her breath hitch in her chest, her grin sliding from her face. Tyson seemed to be caught in the moment too as his own face drifted into neutral, his eyes locked on hers in return. She didn’t realise how close they had shifted until her fingers brushed against his arm, Tyson’s eyes darting down to where they were touching before he looked back up at her. Her heart was pounding, ears full of a rushing sound, her thoughts filled with nothing but the dazed look on Tyson’s face.

It was when his gaze flicked down to her lips that she jolted out of her reverie, just in time for a couple of shrieks and splashes came from the end of the dock.

Fuck. Fuck.

What was that? What the hell was that?

“Mollie…” Tyson murmured, fingers brushing against hers finally.

“I’m going to get some more food,” she said quickly, stepping backwards.

It took all her strength to turn away from the confused hurt expression on Tyson’s face, and walk over to join Bryony and Louis at the barbecue, plastering a smile on her face as her head whirled, desperately trying not to panic. Tyson had almost kissed her. She had almost kissed Tyson. Tyson wanted to kiss her. She wanted to kiss Tyson. Did she want to kiss Tyson?

Of course she wanted to.

But since when did she give into fleeting desires around him? And since when did he ever look at her like that? No, she couldn’t deal with this. She wouldn’t, not tonight. Maybe not ever. What the hell, Tyson?

~

Tyson and Mollie didn’t talk about the moment they shared at all. The first two weeks of their two month summer, almost a full week since that fateful night, passed quickly and the longer they went not mentioning it, Mollie found herself burying the topic completely. From Wednesday morning to Friday midday, Mollie, Tyson, Bryony, Louis and Chase all quickly fell into a routine that she knew would carry on for the rest of the summer. Mollie did her usual run along the lake front each morning, with Bryony and Tyson joining her for a yoga session today, the Friday morning. She spent each day cycling through swimming, sunbathing, and reading, all of the group taking it in turns to cook dinner while sorting out their own lunches. She kayaked with Chase and Tyson for a couple of hours before lunch on Thursday, the three of them paddling in a comfortable silence most the way, taking pictures to make their friends jealous of the beautiful views.

And now Bryony and Louis were back from their grocery run for the barbecue tonight, to celebrate Mollie’s brother John and his wife Michelle coming up for the weekend, as well as Tyson’s friends Mat and Dante arriving ahead of their own week’s stay. They’d all met Mat and Dante before, the two of them joining Tyson for a few summer’s now (and Dante joining on his own the year before that started) so Mollie was well prepared for the chaos those two always seemed to bring. At least in comparison to the peace and calm that Tyson’s friend JT brought when he visited (which he would be doing for two weeks after Dante and Mat left).

It was going to be an interesting stretch of time, that was for sure.

After Tyson had gotten his friends settled in, they immediately joined Mollie’s group to chill on the clearing by the dock, relaxing for a few hours before they needed to start prepping for the barbecue tonight. Chase and Allison wouldn’t be joining them until later, and neither would John and Michelle, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t have fun before then.

“We’ve got snacks and fresh fruit and cold beers, help yourselves,” Michael grinned, waving towards the coolers on the back decking of their cabin.

Mat, Dante, and Tyson saluted, making them all laugh, Tyson carrying over their own crate of beers to add to the coolers too. Mollie just stayed silent, offering Tyson a small smile, to which he sent a hesitant one back. Great. He was still going to be awkward around his friends too. With a quiet sigh, quiet enough that no-one else heard it, she laid back down on her deckchair, eager to let the sun wash away the underlying tension she was desperate to ignore.

Maybe with his friends here, Tyson would get over the awkwardness and they could return to normal. At least, she hoped they could. She didn’t know what she would do if they didn’t.

~

“So, Mollie looks good, huh?”

“Don’t even think about it Barzy,” Tyson scowled.

Dante and Mat looked at each other only briefly before bursting into laughter.

“We know she’s yours, Josty. Chill,” Dante snickered.

“She’s not mine,” Tyson shot back, narrowing his eyes.

His friends just laughed harder.

“Yeah okay, and you totally weren’t distracted when she was sunbathing in that tiny pink bikini this afternoon, right,” Mat teased.

“I swear, I will throw you in the lake.”

~

The weekend was…odd, to say the least. Mollie didn’t spend nearly as much time with Tyson as she normally did, mostly because he looked like he didn’t know what to say to her and she didn’t have a clue what to say to him. She got away with it though, having her brother and sister-in-law up at the cabin, and Tyson having his friends to distract him. She had to get over this weirdness. She needed to.

On the Sunday evening, when her brother John and Michelle drove back into town, she followed them back, staying at her apartment for a night ahead of a family dinner their mom had insisted on for the Monday night. It wasn’t a hardship to take a little break from the cabin, using the time to pamper herself with a long bath and a face mask, giving herself the time to refresh. And Monday she spent giving her apartment a giant deep clean, driving all thoughts from her mind until she only had enough time to shower and change before heading over to her parents house.

“Mollie! Baby! Are you eating enough?”

Mollie just rolled her eyes fondly at her mom’s greeting.

“Nice to see you too mom. I brought wine,” she mused, stepping into her childhood home.

“Ooh, I do love a good cabernet, thank you darling. John and Michelle are already here – they’re with your dad in the den,” her mom said cheerfully, “I’m just finishing up in here!”

“I’ll help you, mom. It’s been a while.”

Mollie’s mom just beamed at her, kissing her cheek before wandering back into the kitchen. She followed with a smile on her face, heart bursting with the love that only a mom could cause, her mom especially. Mollie put on the apron that her mom passed her, the two of them chopping vegetables for the salad in a comfortable silence, Mollie just enjoying her mom dancing along to the radio while they worked. True to her word, they didn’t take long to finish preparing everything, and in no time at all, her mom was calling everyone to the table for dinner.

Incredible chicken pot pie, with creamy mash, a variety of greens, and homemade gravy, with a fruit cobbler for dessert. This was exactly what she needed.

What she didn’t need was her brother opening his mouth the moment that they finished eating.

“So mom, has Mollie told you about Tyson yet?”

What the hell?

“No? Is everything okay?” her mom asked, voice full of concern as she turned to look at Mollie.

She kicked her brother under the table but he just smiled sweetly at her. Her older brother was such a child.

“He’s fine mom. A little stressed after the season, but fine,” Mollie said, as calmly as she could.

“I was talking about all the flirting actually,” John said innocently.

“Shut up, John! There hasn’t been any flirting!” she hissed.

He was a dead man. Michelle could move on happily.

“Flirting?” her dad frowned.

“Flirting?!” her mom cried happily.

For fuck’s sake. She needed to nip this in the bud before her mom pulled out her scrapbooks.

“There is no flirting. John is delusional, maybe a touch of heat stroke. You really check that out for him, Michelle,” Mollie said firmly, her sister-in-law just sending her a pitying smile, “Tyson and I don’t flirt with each other.”

“It’s been different this year and you know it,” John shot back.

Michelle elbowed him, but other than a grunt he didn’t react at all, his smirk staying put.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s one of my best friends and you know it,” Mollie scowled.

“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much,” John sing-songed.

“Oh you assho-”

“That’s enough,” their mom interrupted, gaze firm. Mollie snapped her mouth shut, John doing the same. “Johnathan Neil Thomas, cut it out. If Mollie says they’re still just friends, then that’s that.”

Mollie smiled triumphantly, earning an eye roll from her brother.

“And Mollie Eliza Thomas, if there ever is a change between you and Tyson then you know you can be open with us.”

Ugh.

“Mom!” Mollie hissed.

John just threw his head back and cackled, not even flinching at the elbow from his wife this time. How was he 27 years old?

“Alright, alright, I’m stopping,” their mom grinned, “and so is John.”

Seriously. It was bad enough that her head was messed up from whatever the hell had happened at the lake the other day, whatever the hell had been happening since Tyson came back this summer, but she didn’t need her family adding to it too.

“Cheer up buttercup. Whatever happens, happens,” her dad shrugged, smiling.

Mollie didn’t know if that made things better or worse. Sure, John could be doing the opposite, getting defensive and shutting down a ‘potential’ relationship between her and Tyson (not that there was anything) but this wasn’t helping.

“I’m disowning you all,” Mollie grumbled, “not you Michelle. As always, you’re an angel.”

Her brother’s wife just beamed. “If John doesn’t want to sleep on the sofa tonight, he’ll stop.”

What an angel she was indeed.

Her dad tactfully changed the topic to his upcoming fly fishing trip, finally giving Mollie some peace, but she was lost in her head from there on out, Michelle just filling up her wine glass in solidarity. By the time John and Michelle went home, Mollie had drunk a couple of glasses too many to safely drive home, so she crashed in her childhood bedroom, her mom thrilled that she got to fuss over her for another day.

Her dad promised to make her a hearty breakfast.

While she got ready for bed, doing her usual skincare routine after she changed, Mollie finally let herself embrace her thoughts. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, John’s teasing had gotten under her skin.

It’s been different this year and you know it.

Because it had been different this year. This summer had been full of all of this tension that hadn’t been there before that she didn’t know what to do with. This was her and Tyson. If she couldn’t figure out what it all meant to her, then where did that leave them?

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

John was right. He’d been right all along. It was different this year. Everything with Tyson had felt different this year, the flirty teasing, the innocent touches, the way her heart had skipped at his smile. But why? What had changed?

And what could she do about it?

Tyson had never said anything to her about being more than friends in all of their years of knowing each other, not even as a joke in passing. There’d never been a moment like that almost moment before the barbecue the other day. There’d never been anything that had flared Mollie’s feelings into a tailspin like this, but now? Now she didn’t know what to think.

Breathe. Take a moment.

Mollie inhaled shakily, running her trembling hands through her chestnut hair. It was like a dam had burst, her emotions rushing over like a tidal wave, her heart racing and her breathing getting ragged. This had changed everything. How could she not think about Tyson differently now that the floodgates had opened? How could she ignore that he was her everything now that she’d admitted it to herself? What the hell was she supposed to do now?

“Mollie? Is everything alright?”

Mollie snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of her mom’s voice through the door, clearly having seen her light was still on. Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it.

“Yeah mom, just doing some yoga!” Mollie called back, hoping that the lie wasn’t too obvious, that her voice wasn’t too shaky.

“Alright sweetheart, get some rest! I’ll see you in the morning,”

Mollie just squeezed her eyes shut tightly, balling her fists at her sides as she curled up under her duvet. This wasn’t fair. All these years she’d maintained an amazing friendship with Tyson, a constant steadiness that she cherished, but now…could it really stay the same? Could she stay the same, knowing her feelings were actually real, when he didn’t feel the same? Could she pretend to be normal?

Could they even stay friends?

~

At the lake, unbeknown to Mollie, Tyson was going through his own emotional turmoil, sitting with Dante and Mat in the living area of his cabin.

“What’s going on with you and Mollie?”

“It feels different this year,” was all Tyson could offer to Dante’s question.

“Different…how?” Dante frowned.

Tyson sighed, running a hand over his face, missing the look that his friends exchanged.

“Tys, seriously. You and Mollie have always been so close, and yeah we tease you about it…but has something happened?” Mat said softly.

“I don’t know. There have been some moments. Like, emotionally-charged moments. That first weekend when we first saw each other again, she was wearing this tiny red bikini and she just looked so carefree and beautiful and so goddamn hot that it completely blew past all my defences. I couldn’t help but flirting and she flirted back. Talking to her felt like my heart was clenching and there was something in her eyes that said it wasn’t just me. And the other day at the barbecue, I just…I don’t know. We almost kissed and then she basically ran away,” Tyson said miserably.

Mat laughed softly, making Tyson whine in protest.

“This isn’t funny!”

“Oh it’s kinda funny. Why is it that everyone can see the connection between you two other than you?” Mat mused.

“We’re just friends. That’s all she wants, clearly,” Tyson sighed.

“That’s all she wants? Are you saying that you want more?” Dante asked, grinning.

Tyson just whined again at his friend’s excitement, dropping his head to rest in his hands. He couldn’t deny it, not any more. Not now that things felt so different, so…new. How could he?

“So you’re admitting that you like her. Finally. Are you sure that friendship is all Mollie wants? Have you even said anything?” Mat asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Why would I say anything?!” Tyson yelped, lifting his head up again.

Was Mat crazy?

Both Mat and Dante rolled their eyes. “You literally said that it wasn’t just you that had that emotionally charged moment,” Mat pointed out.

“I know but…”

“If there’s another moment like that, why don’t you just take a chance?” Dante interrupted, before Tyson could spiral into a panic, “if things are stressing you out this much, then maybe she’s feeling the same.”

Tyson bit his bottom lip, contemplating his friend’s words. Could he really do that?

Mat sighed, seeing Tyson’s hesitation. “Look, bud, you never know until you try. The friendship that you and Mollie have is so solid – even if things don’t happen between you two, nothing will change that.”

“I guess you’re right. She wouldn’t be weird about it, even if it is just me with feelings,” Tyson murmured.

Mat frowned, opening his mouth to argue, but Dante just elbowed him in the ribs, making him grunt.

“I don’t think it is just you, but yeah, you really should act on this, before you get too in your head about things. I know it’s scary and I know that you’ve got to take a risk, but I honestly think it’s going to pay off. It’s Mollie, Tys. How can things not?” Dante said warmly.

Mat nodded enthusiastically, making Tyson laugh softly.

“You really think I could take a chance?”

“Absolutely. You’re Tyson fucking Jost – you’ve got this!” Dante grinned.

Tyson smiled weakly, trying to put on a brave face. He wasn’t convinced, not with how much was on the line. Mollie was too important for him to lose. But maybe, just maybe, he could gain even more?

~

The week went on with Mollie no closer to an answer to what her next steps should be. At least Tyson was a little more relaxed around her, offering her genuine smiles rather than the awkward ones he’d been giving her since their almost moment. On Mat and Dante’s penultimate day, Allison arranged for a four jet skis to be sent up to the lake as a surprise, and they all took turns in racing each other on them, no-one getting too drunk to make sure they stayed safe.

After a few races on the jet ski, Mollie took a break, letting Louis take over to race Bryony, Mat and Dante, while Michael cheered them on and took photos. She could see her phone lighting up with jealous messages from Allison and Chase – FOMO was a bitch – so she could already predict that Allison would be extending their rental until after the full weekend had passed so she could have a go herself.

Mollie headed back out of the cabin with a book, a bottle of water, and some sunscreen, ready to relax for a little while now that she’d pulled some shorts back on, only to see Tyson already sitting where she had been planning to sit. Maybe it was fate. Maybe this was the time they needed, apart from the others. Maybe this was a sign.

Then again, Tyson had been fairly quiet today so far, letting Mat and Dante take the reins in conversation.

“Hey Tys. Mind if I join you?”

He jolted, looking up at her like she’d surprised him, making her frown slightly.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure.”

Okay, not quite the reaction she’d been expecting. Even for him, this was weird. Still, she sat down in the chair next to him, reapplying her sunscreen before opening up her book. But the way that Tyson was sitting silently next to her, just staring out at the lake, was unsettling.

“Is everything okay?” she murmured, putting her bookmark in her book.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

His answer was so short, almost distant, unlike any way he’d ever spoken to her, and it hurt a little to hear that tone in his voice. Maybe she was just missing something, but him brushing her off like that on top of all of her emotional turmoil lately was just enough to make tears spring to her eyes.

It was all she could do to swallow heavily to keep her composure, and she stood up, dropping her book on her chair.

“Where are you going?” Tyson frowned.

“I don’t know. Just need to clear my head, I guess,” Mollie shrugged, attempting to keep her voice light.

“Can I come with you?” Tyson blurted.

That would be the opposite of helpful right now. But when he looked at her so hopefully, how could she say no? Maybe he’d actually open up, and his attitude was all a big misunderstanding? She could only hope. She couldn’t take him pulling away from her, if that’s what this was.

No, she had to have hope.

With a quick glance over her shoulder to check that their friends were all occupied, Mollie started to walk in the opposite direction down the lake front, knowing that Tyson would be following her. She wandered, a little aimlessly, trying to clear her head as she’d said to him, but nothing helped knowing that it was his footsteps following her.

Eventually she slowed to a stop at a little cove, ducking into it to get out of the harsh light of the sun, and Tyson stopped next to her, offering her a small smile. She had to return it – this was the place they’d dubbed ‘their spot’ after all. Back in Tyson’s first summer, she’d found him here after a difficult training session, full of frustration and homesickness, and it had been one of the things that bonded them so quickly. She’d never told anyone about this place, that it was hers and Tyson’s. Mollie hadn’t intended to come here, but clearly her subconscious had other plans.

Tyson took a step towards her, slipping slightly on a rock, and Mollie’s hands darted out to stead him, Tyson clinging to her forearms as he regained his balance. It was only when she laughed and looked back up at him that she realised they were standing so close that she could count his eyelashes, and she froze.

No, no she couldn’t do this. She needed less drama, less intensity, less…

“Mollie,” Tyson murmured, voice breathy.

“Tys, I…I can’t,” she choked.

Her head was swirling as she jerked out of his grip, trying not to slip herself as she stepped past him, but Tyson grabbed her hand to stop her leaving.

“Mollie, please don’t go! Just listen to me!” Tyson begged.

The desperation in his voice made her stop in her tracks. She closed her eyes, keeping her back to him as she tried to control her racing heartbeat, jumping slightly as his hand move to touch her shoulder. Against her better judgement, with a gentle squeeze of his hand, she turned back around to face him, biting her lip at the devastation in his face.

“Tys,” she whispered, a little helplessly.

He’d never looked at her like that before, like she had the power to destroy him completely. She wasn’t sure if she liked it.

“Mollie, sweetheart…”

Sweetheart. He trailed off at her whimper, running a shaky hand through his unruly curls before he looked into her eyes with such determination that butterflies erupted in her stomach.

“You’ve got to know how much I like you, Mollie. Seriously. You’re one of the only people I keep in touch with from home, one of the only true friends I can count on, and you know how much our friendship means to me. But you’ve got to know how our friendship has evolved. It’s…more now, right? You feel it too?”

Mollie’s breath caught in her throat. He…what?

How much I like you.

How much our friendship means to me.

Our friendship has evolved.

You feel it too?

“Please. Say something,” Tyson begged.

How could she deny him that? After everything she started admitting to herself? She closed her eyes, swallowing heavily, only opening them when her heart cracked open a little. If he could be honest, as much of a dream as it felt, then so could she.

“I do feel it, Tys. I just…I didn’t let myself hope that you felt the same,” she whispered.

There it was. She’d finally said the words out loud. Tyson let out a wounded noise, low and sad, but Mollie didn’t say anything. What else could she say without losing all composure?

“I’ve liked you for so long, Molls. I just never let myself act on it because I didn’t think you felt the same. But now…”

Tyson trailed off again into nothing, letting out a whoosh of breath. The hope and wonder in his voice sent a thrill through Mollie’s body, her heart beating a little bit faster. Tyson liked her. He really liked her! And she’d told him how she felt about him too? She’d never thought this moment would actually happen. Definitely not since her emotional realisation a few evenings ago. But now that it was? It felt mindblowing. Was this really happening?

But there was still that niggle of doubt she couldn’t deny. So Mollie gathered her thoughts while Tyson stayed silent, hoping they wouldn’t bite her in the ass.

“I can’t do this if it’s just for the summer,” Mollie blurted, “I can’t be only a fling for you, Tyson. I wouldn’t be able to cope with that. Not with you.”

Tyson quickly shook his head, reaching out to clasp both of her hands in his, making her gasp softly at the warmth in his grip.

“You could never be a fling. This is the real deal between us, Mollie. I know it is. You know it is,” Tyson said firmly.

Mollie just nodded, choking out a laugh, unable to stop the tears welling up in her eyes as she smiled at him, earning a hopeful smile back. He was right. Deep down, no matter how her insecurities whispered, she knew that their friendship meant a solid foundation. It wasn’t a temporary wavering summer-fun. It was…everything.

“So what are you saying?” Mollie murmured, trying to blink away the tears.

Was this really happening?

“Will you be my girl?” Tyson asked, his voice full of hope.

Mollie choked a laugh, her voice thick with the tears that wouldn’t leave. “Yeah, Tys. I’ll be your girl,”

Tyson let out a whoop, throwing his head back, making Mollie laugh again. What a ridiculous guy. She liked him so much. He rested his forehead against hers, one hand rising to cup her cheek, making her inhale sharply as his eyes went more serious.

“Can I kiss you now? Finally?”

Mollie tilted her head up to press her lips to his in answer.

~

Being with Tyson was easy, easier than Mollie could’ve ever imagined. Somehow that transition from friends to boyfriend and girlfriend was seamless, with not even a little awkwardness like she’d feared there would’ve been. She attributed that to Tyson mainly though – he was such a driving force of happiness, and now that she’d allowed herself to feel all those thoughts she’d subconsciously pushed down before, it was like everything had clicked into place. It was almost like it was fate.

Fate that she was seizing with both hands and never letting go.

The moment that they’d returned to the cabins from the cove, Dante had taken one look at them and demanded Mat to ‘pay up’. Bryony had immediately pulled out her phone, typing away furiously, until she groaned and admitted that Allison had won their pool. Tyson had just laughed when he realised that everyone had been betting on the two of them, Mollie hiding her face in his chest with a groan. Somehow she wasn’t surprised – it was their friends after all – but that didn’t make her feel any better in the moment.

Nor did John’s smug texts – Michelle’s happy ones soothed that a little. She wasn’t surprised either when Tyson came to her after the weekend and admitted that John had given him a shovel talk in private, one that he refused to share the details of (so she knew it had to be violent), but when she’d texted John to berate him, all her brother said was that he approved and that Tyson was a good guy.

That much she knew already, thank you very much.

The rest of their summer raced by. After Mat and Dante left, JT stayed for two weeks, just as thrilled for them as Tyson’s other friends had been (especially since he won the bet he had with Alex Kerfoot about them). After JT left, Kacey and Tyson’s mom came up to stay for a week, and their genuine heartfelt welcome to the family talks left Mollie more emotional than ever, Tyson just smiling with watery eyes (that he later denied).

And obviously her parents were thrilled, Tyson being dragged down to a couple of family dinner over the remaining six weeks of summer, in between his intense workouts, getting him ready for the upcoming season.

But those six weeks flew by faster than Mollie anticipated, the end of summer drawing closer, and Tyson only had few weeks before he needed to get back to Buffalo for training camp. His time at his cabin had come to an end, as had Mollie’s, so he’d come to stay at her apartment with her while he figured out what he wanted to for his remaining time.

The more time Mollie could spend with him, the better, so she wasn’t going to complain. Especially if it meant waking up in Tyson's arms in the mornings. Even if it meant Tyson watching her with adoring expressions as she shuffled through old lesson plans to see which she could spruce up ahead of the upcoming school year.

A few days into them living in her apartment together though, Tyson made breakfast for them both and sat down opposite her with a serious expression on his face, making her a little nervous. They ate mostly in silence, the radio playing in the background, and it wasn’t until he’d put their plates in the sink that Tyson was ready to talk.

“Everything’s been so good between us, right?” he blurted.

The nervous expression on his face made her heart twinge, and not in a fun way.

“It has for me?” she offered, wincing.

“It has for me too, I promise,” he said quickly, taking the edge off her anxiety, “I just…I’ve been thinking a lot. About our future. Where we could end up. Where I want our relationship to end up.”

She tried valiantly to ignore how her heart started beating a little faster.

“What have you been thinking?” she prompted, hoping her voice didn’t sound too shaky.

“I don’t know where I’m going to end up with hockey in the future. The Avs didn’t want me, it didn’t work out with the Wild, and who knows where I’ll be after this coming year with the Sabres after all the up and down this past season. I don’t know where I’ll be playing or what city I’ll be in, but…will you come with me?”

Mollie’s jaw dropped slightly, her breath catching in her throat. He wanted her to go with him? To leave Kelowna? Tyson saw her shock and immediately reached across the island counter to take both of her hands in his, desperate to ground her as he knew she needed.

“I know this is fast, or at least it would be by normal relationship standards, but with how long we’ve known each other and with how right this feels…I just can’t bear the thought of another 9 months without you. Especially not in Buffalo,” Tyson said, his eyes wide and honest.

Go with Tyson? Uproot everything she’d ever known, move away from all her friends, her job, her life?

“Tyson, I…”

She trailed off, biting her lip, unsure of how to continue as her thoughts swirled. But as soon as she did, she noticed how Tyson’s shoulders slumped slightly, his grip on her hands going limp.

“No, you’re right. It’s too soon, isn’t it? I couldn’t ask you to give up your whole life, just like that, that's not fair on you,” Tyson sighed, finally dropping her hands.

Her breath caught in her throat at the defeat in his eyes. That, more than anything else, she hated. How he second guessed himself? His lack of self confidence? That devastation, it just wasn’t right. So Mollie shook her head, taking his hands back in hers.

“Tys, I need a moment to process, yeah?”

He nodded, a glimmer of hope entering his eyes again, making her smile slightly. Mollie huffed out a breath, running her thumbs over his knuckles, as she tried to process his words. Moving with Tyson – moving in with Tyson fully – would change everything. It would be the biggest step she’d ever taken with a relationship, but with Tyson it would be…

“Tell me what’s going through your mind,” Tyson begged, interrupting her flow.

“You just can’t stand the silence huh,” she teased, unable to resist.

“You know I can’t,” he laughed.

But the laugh was strained, making her sigh. Time to be honest.

“I guess…the main thing going through my mind is that this is such a big step,” she admitted.

“Yeah it is. But it’s also exciting? And I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t sure it would work,” Tyson said honestly.

She couldn’t help but blush slightly. The fact that he was so certain about their relationship was refreshing. And she knew that Tyson always put his whole heart into everything, which was exciting - no-one else had ever had this conviction.

“What about my job? My friends? My family? And a visa? I’ve never even left BC, you know I haven’t,” Mollie prompted, going through all her doubts.

Tyson tilted his head back slightly, averting his eyes as he chewed his lip, clearly deep in thought. She couldn’t help but smile – he really was putting so much effort into this.

“I know you love teaching, even though the school you’re at right now has terrible parents…but I know you’d also smash any teaching job in any place, so I think that part is solvable? Family and friends though…that’s the big sacrifice. And I know, because it sucks leaving mine at the end of every summer. It’s sucked leaving you at the end of every summer, even though we were only ever just friends before. I don’t want to leave you again, but I understand if only seeing everyone else a few times a year outside of summer is a deal breaker,” Tyson sighed, “The visa thing I can work out with my agent, so that shouldn’t be an issue. And I know that you haven’t ever left BC – but there’s so much of the world I want to show you, even if that starts with Buffalo.”

Mollie huffed out a breath at his words, knowing he was speaking from the heart. But what should she do? Tyson watched the frustration play out across her face and smiled sadly, squeezing her hands in comfort.

“Hey, whatever you decide, just know that it won’t change how much I love you, yeah?” he said softly.

He loves her? Of all the times to drop that declaration, so simple and sweet. How could her heart not sing at that?

“My god, Tys, I love you too. So much. And you’re right, it would suck to watch you leave again because everything is so different this year. I finally have you and to lose you?”

Mollie frowned, shaking her head as she cut herself off. How could she let him go?

Tyson saw the change in her expression, a wide smile spreading across his lips. “So…?” he asked hopefully.

She laughed at his prompting, and squeezed his hands back.

“Yeah, Tyson, I’m willing to try this, to try us,” Mollie nodded, smiling, “I’ll move with you, to Buffalo, and then wherever you go after that.”

Tyson whooped and stood up from his chair, making her laugh again as he ran around to her side of the island, which quickly turned into a squeal as he threw his arms around her and picked her up to spin her in a circle. The joy in his face was just pure happiness, and Mollie knew right then that she’d made the right decision.

“I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us,” Tyson grinned, resting his forehead against hers.

There was so much to think about, with moving, with getting a visa, with her job, with her apartment in Kelowna. But a future with Tyson? That was all Mollie wanted - and she couldn’t wait to see what the future held for them either.

[atlanticcanada]

Magnificent manor: Historic N.B. home restored to former glory

There aren't many people willing to buy an almost 200-year-old home in complete disarray and restore it to its former glory, but that's what Miriam Andrews is doing.

Andrews and her husband Steven Trites moved from Kelowna, B.C., to Dorchester, N.B., after purchasing the Lady Smith Manor in 2019.

The 8,000 square-foot home has 25 rooms and was built in 1840.

It's been a massive project. The bones of the vacant home were in good shape, but it was in a sorry state when the couple moved in.

“But it had huge potential and I think that's what we could really see when we walked in through the door,” said Andrews. “I remember the very first time when we walked in to view it and it was almost waiting for someone to love it and to bring it back to life.”

The house was owned by Sir Albert James Smith, a lawyer from Shediac, who was premier of New Brunswick in the mid-1860s.

They've been doing most of the restoration work themselves with the exception of the electrical work, but it’s been a pricey process.

“It's a big property and very expensive to heat, so every year, we've gradually added something that is making it warmer and warmer, which is fantastic,” said Andrews.

While still a work in progress, the historic home is now an events venue, but it's more of a passion project than a business venture.

“It really, for us, is our life,” she said. “When we first saw the property, we felt like we had a responsibility to bring it back to life and restore it, and it has very much become our passion.”

The centre piece of the music room is a grand piano with a great back story.

“When we moved in, there was a beautiful square grand piano, which I didn't even know they had square grand pianos until I came here,” said Andrews. “It was built in 1840, which is actually the same year as this end of the house, and the story I've been told is was that it was saved and brought in to the property when someone was going to destroy it and use the wood for pencils.”

Andrews has made 133 YouTube videos – one for each week of the restoration project – to keep curious followers up to date.

Lady Smith Manor has been nominated for two provincial tourism awards and the province has nominated it for a national tourism award.

A Christmas market with local artists and vendors will take place at the manor on Nov. 12 and 13.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/ebNjMJV

[hockeykindofsucks]

rape/sa tw

you’ve likely already heard about the recent lawsuit filed by an anonymous girl against the chl, hockey canada, and eight men whose names have not been released; if not, you can read about it here. i’ve seen a list of the 2018 team canada roster floating around with a lot of people worried that some of the big names on it might have been involved in the incident. i’ve done some research and think i’ve narrowed down who might have been involved. rest under the cut.

the short version is that on april 20th, 2018, shortly after a hockey foundation canada gala, a woman was gang-raped by eight chl players, more than one of whom were on team canada at the time. after settling with the plaintiff out of court, neither the chl nor hockey canada have released the names of the players involved. based on the facts that have been made available, i’ve attempted to identify which athletes on the 2018 canadian team are most likely to have been defendants in the case. it seems to me that the national team players involved were alex formenton and robert thomas, then of the london knights, currently of the ottawa senators and stl blues respectively.

the language used in the lawsuit is the assailants, “including but not limited to members of the Canada U20 Men’s Junior Hockey Team,” were all teammates in the chl. what that means is that any athlete on team canada who was not in the chl is not implicated. those athletes are cale makar (then playing for the umass minutemen), colton point (colgate university), dante fabbro (boston university), and victor mete (montreal canadiens).

the lawsuit claims that all eight of the assailants were chl teammates. it also claims that memberS - plural - of the national team were implicated, meaning that any athlete who was the only representative of his chl team on team canada was not a participant in the assault. this suggests that carter hart (everett silvertips), jake bean (calgary hitmen), kale clague (brandon wheat kings), jonah gadjovich (owen sound attack), maxime comtois (victoriaville tigres), taylor raddysh (eerie otters), tyler steenbergen (swift current broncos), drake batherson (cape breton screaming eagles), michael mcleod (mississauga steelheads), brett howden (moose jaw warriors), sam steel (regina pats), and jordan kyrou (sarnia sting), each of whom were the only representative of their chl team on team canada that year, are also not implicated.

what that leaves us with is a set of athletes who fit the criteria for those that assaulted the anonymous girl: at least two men who played for the same chl team and were on team canada in 2018. they are connor timmins and boris katchouk, then of the sault ste. marie greyhounds, OR callan foote and dillon dubé of the kelowna rockets, OR alex formenton and robert thomas of the london knights.

that’s what we know for certain; the rest is conjecture. i would say that the team based in london, ontario is the most likely to have been present in london, ontario at the time the gang rape took place. i think the team canada defendants in the lawsuit whose names they refuse to release are alex formenton and robert thomas, both on the london knights roster at the time. they are also both currently in the nhl: alex formenton is on the sens, robert thomas is on the blues.

if you or any loved ones travel in the same circles as these guys or would be likely to encounter them, i wanted to share this with you. it’s my hope that the names of the athletes will be released by someone who actually knows for sure at some point, especially considering there are six other men out there who brutalized this girl, but in the meantime, i think having a shortlist of people who may be dangerous is valuable for anyone who is at risk as a potential victim.

[drahtphotography]

Look at this! Eric has some words to share! Draht Photography

New Post has been published on https://www.drahtphotography.com/the-island-wedding-at-lake-oyama-sampler/

The Island Wedding at Lake Oyama Sampler

Lake Oyama is an incredible place. Just above Kelowna, it has all these small islands you can boat out to. Originally, one of these islands was meant to be the ceremony site, but it didn’t quite pan out. That being said, we did make it out there, and we got some incredible photos.

Take a look at that!

And so, we begin as always with the details. I wanted a film-like photo, because the ceremony site was so picturesque. It overlooked said islands, and our the rugs and arch completed the look.

The entire resort is divided up – there’s cabins, tents, and even an outfitted school bus for the kids to sleep in! The groom’s cabin was right by the entrance, so that’s where I went.

Over at cabin 9, our bride was nearly ready too!

And then, the procession began. The light wasn’t planned – I’m not sure how it hit like that, but I’m in love with it. I love patchy light, it’s an incredible texture.

And then, after a group photo, we ran off to the islands! I’ve been eying them for a while – it’s certainly something quite unique.

It’s an incredible experience, and one I never thought I’d have – to have an entire island to myself!

It’s wonderful, because you have so many different kinds of photos you can take – I get really into the water, the sky, the lake.

And this is how we got around!

The reception was gorgeous. A benefit of Oyama is there’s no cell phone coverage, just people living in the moment. And there were so many moments!

On the way up, there was this incredible lookout. Like nothing I’ve ever seen in Kelowna, perhaps the most gorgeous lookout in the area. We had some dinner, took a few more photos in the water for good measure, and piled into the truck for some closing shots.

Unfortunately, this is where I’ll have to leave you. There’s some incredible photos from the day, and this is just a sneak peek, a sampler. About 50 photos, so quite a large sneak peek!

The full album has so many candids, an absolutely stunning sneakaway, and even a first dance where every guest had a sparkler. There’s some unforgettable moments that you’ll love to see.

A special shoutout to the guy who moved his truck so we could get these photos!

If you’d like to be notified when the album is ready, you can pre-register here.

Thank you for reading this far! If you’d like to follow my progress, feel free to follow my facebook, or instagram! Talk to you soon!

[hockeylvr59]

Secret Love Part 20 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: We’re in the home stretch now. Let me know what you think. 

Warnings: cursing, smut (edging, unprotected)

Word Count: 3,326

~~~~~~~~

With the last week or so being a strain on both you and Cale emotionally, you knew that you wanted to do something to make him smile now that things were finally looking up. 

Cale’s ex, Sara, must have had a falling out with one of her friends because yesterday a snapchatted image of a paternity test had surfaced online with the comment ‘time for y’all to stop accusing him of being the bad guy when he’s the one that was being cheated on for six months’, proving once and for all that Cale wasn’t the baby’s dad. 

Cale had called you, relief filling his tone. If the story had to be drawn out and his privacy violated for a second time, at least it was in a beneficial way and now that chapter was officially closed. It wasn’t until you got past the emotional hurdles that had been thrown in front of you that you realized July was flying by and soon Cale would be heading back to Denver. This summer was supposed to be about taking advantage of every moment, and lately you’d gotten a little off track. 

Checking with Cale to make sure that he didn’t have any plans for the weekend, you put a call in to a friend from school who was working for a rental agency in BC. Ten minutes later you had confirmation on a lakefront rental for a long weekend and a promise that if you sent her a list, she’d pick up groceries and drop them off for you. It was already mid-week so you threw together a bag, browsing online for more plans for a romantic getaway. 

____

Friday morning you found yourself driving over to the Makar residence to wait for Cale to get home from training. Laura was still home as you let yourself in the open front door and when she saw you she almost immediately jumped up off the chair she was sitting in to hug you. 

“Y/N...I didn’t know you were coming over this morning dear. Can I make you breakfast?” 

“I already ate, but I’d love a cup of tea.” You replied, smiling. “I uh...I came to steal your son for the weekend once he gets home.” 

“Oh really?” She inquired, moving to put water on for tea. “He didn’t mention it.” 

“That’s because it’s a surprise.” You shrugged. “I decided we needed a weekend to unwind from everything. Summer is moving really fast.” Her smile grew and she leaned against the counter, her own mug in her hands. 

“He’s gonna love that.” She murmured. “Seeing the two of you two together just makes me so happy, I hope you know that. This is what I’ve always wanted for him. And for you. The fact that you’ve found it in each other is just a bonus.” 

The front door opened and the sound of shoes hitting the floor of the entryway quickly followed before Cale walked into the kitchen to grab a Gatorade. He was drenched in sweat, his chest on display. 

“Morning mom…” He murmured, retreating almost to the doorway before he realized that his mom wasn’t alone. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked as he closed the distance between you, leaning in for a quick kiss. 

“You’re all sweaty.” You whined, crinkling your nose. Laughing, Cale pretended to move in to hug you before pulling away. “Don’t be a jerk.” You chastised. “Go shower and pack a bag for the weekend Mr.” His eyebrows raised and he eyed you, taking a sip of his drink before opening his mouth to speak.

“Shower first, questions after...you’re stinking up my kitchen Cale.” Laura interrupted Cale’s attempt to question you causing him to roll his eyes. 

“Don’t forget your trunks and like one nicer outfit...the rest can be lazy.” You called, giggling as you heard him racing up the stairs mumbling about the two of you ganging up on him again. 

“The way the two of you can flip from being romantic to the best friends you’ve always been just amazes me.” Laura murmured as she poured your cup of tea. “It seems so natural and I suppose it is.” She clarified more to herself than to you. 

As you watched Laura clean up the kitchen a bit while drinking your tea, a question popped into your head. 

“Hey, mom...do you have any cardboard jewelry gift boxes?” The question made her pause in thought before she held up a finger and disappeared into the garage. When she came back, she tossed a small box to you. 

“Will that work?” She asked, curiosity filling her expression. 

“That’s perfect. Thanks.” You grinned, reaching over to your purse to pull out the key from the front pocket, tucking it away safely in the box. “And before you ask, yes that’s what you think it is, no it’s not for the reason you think.” Laura let out a deep breath and you glanced back at the stairs to make sure that Cale was still occupied. 

“Yes, I’m giving Cale his own house key. But not with the suggestion of moving in together.” You assured her. “I just...after these last couple weeks...I want to be sure that he knows he’s always welcome. I don’t want him to feel like he can only come over in an emergency. I want him to know that if that’s where he wants to be, that that’s where I want him to be. Whether I’m home or not he’s welcome in my home just like he is yours.” Laura’s expression was soft and she moved to hug you again. 

“I’m somewhat relieved…” She whispered. “And it’s not that I’m against the two of you talking about taking that step...I just…” 

“You’re not quite ready for me to steal him completely yet...I understand.” 

“If I were ready for anyone to steal him it would be you…I just...” She admitted. 

“Need more than a week and a half to get used to that idea.” You finished. “We’re not there yet. You’ve got some time.” You promised. 

“Everything good down here?” Cale’s voice appeared out of nowhere and you pulled back from Laura, quickly trying to mask your emotions. 

“Everything is great.” You confirmed, turning to tuck yourself into Cale’s side. “Are you ready to hit the road?” 

“I don’t know what we’re doing...but let’s do it.” Cale agreed, snagging a kiss before hugging his mom goodbye. 

As you headed out the front door with Cale, you missed Laura whisper, “I think I have less time than you realize dear.” 

____

After letting Cale load his bag into the trunk of your car, you climbed behind the wheel, hooking your phone up as gps and for music. 

“I hope you cooled down properly because this is a bit of a drive.” You teasingly warned, glancing over at where Cale had folded himself into your passenger seat. 

Seven hours later, when you finally pulled into the driveway of your destination, Cale’s sarcasm could probably be heard from space. 

“A bit of a drive?” He questioned. “Calgary to Kelowna is more than ‘a bit of a drive.’” 

“Oh hush...like you didn’t sleep half of it.” You threw back, popping the trunk so that you could grab your bag and Cale his. “Now c’mon. We have a little over 48 hours to enjoy alone together in this lakefront paradise.” 

Entering the code to the lock on the front door, you pushed it open, your eyes going wide. Your friend had told you that she knew of the perfect place and boy did she deliver. Beautiful hardwood floors stretched throughout the house and everything felt light and airy and luxurious. Walking through to the second bedroom which was clearly the master, you dropped your bag on the bed eyeing the huge shower on the wall to your right. 

Backtracking back to the kitchen you smiled, first at the modern indoor space, but then your grin grew as you took in the view of the lake out the back windows. It was perfect. Everything about this place was perfect. 

By the time you finished your quick survey, Cale had made his way inside, and you watched as he took it all in. 

“Damn…” He mumbled appreciatively. 

“Yeah. I think this will suit us just fine for a couple days of unwinding.” You agreed, your hand rubbing up over Cale’s back. 

“Don’t know what I did to deserve you.” Cale breathed, arm draped around your waist as he pulled you into a soft kiss. “This is amazing. You’ve seriously been superwoman these last few weeks. Dealing with everything and then you planned this...I’m just...I’m blown away.” 

“I love you.” You stated simply. “We deserve something wonderful after getting past all the bullshit. And a weekend away seemed like a nice escape. We can stay in, we can go exploring, whatever you want. We have a reservation at a winery for dinner tomorrow but other than that the plans are open.” 

“So if I wanted to keep you in bed all weekend?” Cale inquired, mischievous smirk on his face. 

“As long as we don’t miss dinner I’d say it’s a shame we didn’t enjoy the private beach but I’m amenable.” You replied with a shrug. “But maybe we should start with some food tonight...I’m sure you’re hungry.” You suggested, pecking his lips before pulling away to open the fridge. Everything you’d asked for was present and accounted for. 

Pulling the steaks and vegetables from the fridge, along with a bottle of wine, you set about finding everything you needed to make dinner while Cale gaped at you from where you’d left him. 

“There’s food?” The words slipped from his lips, drawing a giggle from your throat. 

“I have people.” You winked, cutting up potatoes, green beans, and carrots. “Want to make yourself useful and go start the grill?” You questioned, reaching for some foil to load the vegetables into along with some oil and seasoning. It wouldn’t take long to grill up dinner and you finished your inside prep before opening the bottle of wine, filling two glasses. 

Passing off the steaks and vegetables to Cale, you stepped out further on the back porch just enjoying the view. It was spectacular, better than perfect and you couldn’t wait to go dip your toes in the water along the sandy beach. 

Dipping back inside for plates and silverware, you settled in at the outdoor table waiting for Cale to finish up at the grill. When the food was done, the two of you settled in to eat. 

“Thanks for manning the grill.” You stated, sipping at your wine. “These steaks came out perfectly.” 

“We make a pretty good team.” Cale agreed, his gaze soft as he looked back and forth between you and the view. Cale’s calf hooked around your leg as you ate and the physical contact made you feel warm and wanted. Once plates were cleared, you sent him to clean the grill while you quickly did the dishes. As you rinsed off the last wine glass, you felt Cale’s arm slide around your waist, pulling you firmly against him. 

He didn’t need to speak a word for you to feel the shift in mood and you leaned back into him, your damp hand sliding up into the hair at the back of his neck. His lips on your ear and then along the column of your throat signaled exactly what he wanted and you let out a pleased hum in response. Dragging you to bed, Cale kept you there for the remainder of the night, his body showing you just how much he appreciated this trip, appreciated you. 

It made you feel even closer to him in every way and it served as the perfect way to prove to yourselves and each other that nothing had managed to shake the bond you’d already formed. You’d had so many different types of sex in the two months you’d been together, but it was this kind you loved the most. The slow, easy, completely unrushed push and pull of your bodies against each other. Cale not giving up until you were a puddle of flesh and bones beneath him. Passing out from exhaustion and pleasure, your naked bodies entwined. 

_______

The sound you woke up to the following morning was not one you’d expected. The sound of rain battering the roof made you shiver, causing you to snuggle further into Cale’s arms. Your movements caused your boyfriend to stir and he nuzzled his nose into your hair. 

“Is that rain?” He mumbled quietly. 

“Certainly sounds like it.” You agreed. 

“Guess I really do get to keep you in bed.” You could feel his smirk against your head and you groaned softly. “But how ‘bout I go make us some breakfast first?” He amended, his body stretching out beside you. 

“I mean I’m not going to argue with that.” You whispered, though the bed was certainly cooler without his presence in it much to your dismay. 

Breakfast in bed with Cale was a first in your relationship, and it felt incredibly romantic to be wrapped in just Cale’s shirt as he fed you bites of pancake and bacon from his spot behind you. 

“We should do this more often.” You breathed, the weight of the world slowly lifting off of your shoulders. 

“Of course sweet girl.” Cale agreed, his hand sliding down along your stomach as he moved the empty plate to the bedside table. You assumed he was going to make good on his implied promise, expecting his fingers to continue their journey down your body. Instead, his hand stayed put and he reached for the remote to turn the tv on, flipping channels. 

Though the show he picked was interesting, you found yourself unable to focus with the occasional kiss dropped onto your neck or shoulder and the mindless strokes of his fingers along your stomach. 

“Cale…” You whimpered his name, your thighs squeezed together to try and alleviate the pressure. 

“Hmm…?” He breathed. 

“Are you gonna touch me or just tease me all day?” You inquired, trying not to squirm against him. 

“Thought you’d be sore and tired after last night…” Cale mused, though his tone gave away that he knew exactly what he was doing. 

“I mean I am…” You admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it.” 

“Yeah sweet girl...what is it that you want?” 

“Touch me Cale.” You pleaded, a hiss slipping from your throat as Cale’s teeth scraped along your neck. 

“You gotta be more specific sweetheart. Tell me exactly what you want.” He prodded. This demanding side of Cale was one you hadn’t really seen before and though a part of you wanted to tell him to fuck off and just fuck you, a larger part was curious to see just how far he would take this. 

“Your fingers.” You attempted to clarify, the fog of lust slowly creeping over you. 

“My fingers are touching you sunshine…” He teased, drumming the digits against your stomach. 

“My clit Cale. Fuck please rub my clit.” You hadn’t put underwear on today, so it took hardly any effort for Cale to part your legs enough to slide his fingers exactly where you wanted them. Tossing your head back against his shoulder you arched into his fingers, your body desperate for more. “Cale...faster please.” You whined, frustrated by the slow pace he’d established. 

Although he complied, Cale was sticking strictly to what you asked for, not expanding into all of the other ways he knew to make you fall apart. It was sweet torture. 

“Cale...fuck me please…” You babbled. “I need those long fingers of yours inside me...spreading me open for your cock.” Cale groaned and it appeared he was pleased with you when he asked a direct question instead of vaguely pushing for more. 

“How many fingers do you want sweetheart?” 

“Two…” You quickly gasped out. “...No three.” You corrected. “Give me three please.” 

Spitting on his fingers, Cale worked three inside you, your pussy aching slightly as it stretched around them. 

“Look at how good your pussy takes my fingers.” Cale breathed into your ear, forcing your gaze to drop to where his fingers were pumping in and out of you. “It looks so much better taking my dick. One of these days I’m going to fuck you in front of a mirror so that you can see how well you take me.” Incoherent curses spilled from your lips at his words. When Cale got like this, it took things to another level and tightened that rubber band inside you until it would only take the slightest bit of friction to make it snap. 

Just as you felt your orgasm creeping up, Cale pulled his fingers from you leaving you gasping. 

“Tsk…” Cale chastised when you attempted to rub your legs together. “I don’t think so sweet girl. You need to ask permission to cum. I want you to beg me for your orgasm. You’re getting so greedy wanting to cum before I’m even inside you.” 

“Cale please?” You protested softly. “I’m so close. Please let me cum.” 

“Not yet love. You can wait for it.” Cale’s fingers brushed featherlight touches against your core as your body slipped away from the edge of orgasm. Only then did he fuck his fingers back inside you, bringing you close to the edge before backing off, despite your pleas to let you orgasm. 

Twice more he edged you, making you think he’d let you cum for just a split second before he pulled away. You were shaking, desperate for release. 

“Cale...fuck me please.” You begged. 

“Does my girl want my cock?”

“Fuck Cale...I need it. I need your cock inside me. I need…” You were cut off when Cale practically tossed you to the other side of the bed before shedding his boxer-briefs and climbing over you, sliding into you all the way to the hilt in one smooth thrust. 

“Uuugnnhh…” The strangled sound was all you could vocalize as you clung to Cale, his body stilled inside of you. 

“You’re so tight sweet girl. How are you always so tight no matter how many times I fuck you raw?” Cale started to rock his hips inside of you, quick and deep and you felt your eyes roll toward the back of your head as you panted for breath under him. 

Having been edged 4 times already today, it wasn’t long before you were thrashing under him, your orgasm racing toward you. 

“Ask permission sweetheart.” Cale reminded, his hand sliding between your bodies to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. 

“Cale please...wanna cum…” You gasp, tears spilling down your cheeks from trying to fight off the orgasm your body ached for. 

“Such a good girl. Asking so nicely. Taking my fingers so nicely. Taking my cock so nicely. Go ahead...cum.” 

The second Cale gave you permission, your orgasm crashed down on you, harder than you’d ever felt in your life. The sensation of Cale’s semen spilling inside of you had barely started when you felt everything go black. 

When you stirred, Cale was playing with your hair. 

“There she is.” He whispered softly. “You okay love?” Every inch of your body felt like lead and you craned your neck to see Cale’s satisfied smirk and concerned eyes. 

“You did not just make me cum so hard I blacked out…” You mumbled in disbelief. 

“Pretty sure I did.” Cale replied. “You’ve never cum that hard around me before. Was the sexiest thing ever.” He gloated. “It still sounds like it’s pouring so why don’t you take a nap before getting ready for dinner.” 

Yawning, you rolled to bury your head into Cale’s chest, still in disbelief about the orgasm he’d just given you.

[toplinetommy]

You Bring the Moon and Stars to Me (Part Eight) - Tyson Jost

Synopsis: A Soulmate!AU where your soulmark only appears once you fall in love with your soulmate

Words: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, poorly written smut

a/n: here’s a link to the song in the second part, which is essentially the inspiration behind this love story (even tho his entire discography played a part). there’s one more part after this plus the epilogue! again, thank you for reading along :)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

September 2019 - Denver, CO

You can see it on his face. Tyson’s clearly trying not to panic, and you’re kind of unsure why. He was fine the first two hours you were over at his house, helping him pack. But now, he’s folded and unfolded the same crewneck sweatshirt at least eight times and you’re about to yank it out of his hands and tell him that you’ll just do it. 

His room was a mess. His large set of hard-shell suitcases open and scattered on the floor, a pile of garment bags on his bed filled with his suits, and a box collecting his random knick-knacks by his bathroom door. His alternative playlist was playing through the speakers on his laptop that sat on his bed, filling the periodic silence between you two. You were both sitting criss-cross applesauce on his floor, packing up his dresser, when you decided to finally cut in.

“Tyson,” you call out. “You doing okay there? You’ve been folding the same sweater for five minutes.”

He folds the sweater one more time before finally placing it in his suitcase, “I’m fine.”

Your heart sinks a little and your lips form a pout at his mumbling, knowing instantly it was just him not wanting to talk. Your hands stop folding the pair of jeans in your hands and you drop them to your folded legs. You sit up, bringing yourself to your knees, and crawl over to kneel behind Tyson’s sitting figure. 

“Hey,” you whisper, wrapping one arm around his torso and resting your head on the back of his shoulder. You run a hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp and twirling some of his curls through your fingers. Tyson leans back into you, taking in the extra weight you’re putting onto him. “Talk to me.”

“I’m just anxious. I’ve never lived by myself before,” he admits. “I’m excited, but still.”

“It’s all a part of growing up,” you sigh. He’s probably already heard that statement from his family members and even guys on the team, but you knew that when you heard that, it helped. “Besides, don’t the older guys always check in on the younger guys when they start living on their own?”

“Yeah, they do.”

“You have nothing to worry about, Tys. Living on your own is refreshing, trust me. You’ll find out so many new things about yourself and it’s not like you’ll be by yourself 24/7. Especially with how social you are,” you reassure with a smile as you rub his shoulders. You could tell he was nervous prior to packing. Every time he had called you to talk about a new place he found over the summer he just rambled and nit-picked the place apart. His pros and cons list looked more like a maybe and a no list by the time he finally settled on the Cherry Creek apartment. 

“Can we take a break? I think it’d ease my mind a bit.” He asks, gesturing to the mess in front of him. 

“Sure.” You twist your body around Tyson’s. “Only if I can have a kiss.”

Tyson playfully scoffs and rolls his eyes before leaning in and placing a smiley kiss on your lips. The kiss is quick, and you pull away to stand, pulling him up with you. 

“You want to figure out plans for dinner? I don’t know about you but this packing is making me hungry,” Tyson says, changing the subject.

You two end up deciding on getting sushi from your favorite place, a spot where you knew the owners by name at this point. You spend the time sharing your favorite stories from the Rookie House, Tyson not missing a chance to chirp JT about his Fortnite addiction. Your favorite memory being the one time you and Tyson were in the living room and Kerfy and his girlfriend had set off the smoke detectors while trying to cook.

“I think my best memory was move-in day,” Tyson swallows. He grabs another piece of sushi with his chopsticks. “I was on cloud nine knowing that I had made the team and then I crossed the street to go meet my neighbor and I just about shit my pants when you walked in.”

A strangled cough comes out of your mouth in response to Tyson’s statement. You grab your drink next to you and try to swallow down the remnants of your food that you’ve swallowed incorrectly.

“Actually,” Tyson ponders, changing his mind. “That might not be my favorite memory, but it definitely led to a fuck ton of my favorite memories.”

Your stomach churns at the thought and you turn your head to look at Tyson. He’s not even looking at you and is focused on the container of sushi in front of him. Your eyes water and you blink at the thought of all of his favorite memories in this house over the past two years all stemmed from you. More specifically, stemmed from the off-chance that the two of you even reconnected in the first place. You smile softly, blinking away the tears in your eyes, setting your chopsticks down and tugging on the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention. 

He turns to look at you, and the expression on his face shows that he doesn’t even fully understand the weight those words had as he spoke them to you. Looking into his eyes, it hits you. This was fate. Tyson Jost sitting in front of you was the universe’s doing. All of the comments you got since meeting Tyson flow through your mind as you stare into his eyes silently. One sticking out more than the others.

I knew you two would somehow find each other

“What?” Tyson asks, breaking you from your thoughts. He’s chewing the last bit of his sushi roll, and you bring your thumb up to wipe at the soy sauce that gathered in his mustache. 

“Nothing, nothing,” You shrug. “Just really happy is all.” You turn your attention back to your sushi, finishing the last few pieces before Tyson’s up and throwing away the containers.

Once he makes his way back over to you, he pulls you into his chest, placing a kiss on your lips. 

“Your breath smells like seaweed,” you chirp against his lips.

“Are you gonna stop kissing me because of it?” He asks, pulling away slightly.

“No.”

“Didn’t think so,” He laughs, pulling your face back to his to reconnect his lips with yours. His lips move along yours softly, your hands moving against the expanse of his chest as he moves his hands along your torso until one lands on the side of your face. The hand on your waist finds its way underneath your t-shirt, squeezing the bare flesh lightly. He’s pulling you tighter against his body, crowding you around the counter behind you. As the kiss deepens, his groin brushes against your pelvis, causing a growing heat in your stomach and between your legs. You twist your hands under the cotton of his shirt to feel the warmth of his back.

“So now that we’re moving out you’re gonna start making out with people in the kitchen?” 

A voice, you recognize as JT makes you pull away. You drop your forehead to Tyson’s shoulder before lifting it back up. You give JT a tight-lipped smile, heat rising to your cheeks. His jaw drops open and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead before he stutters over his next words,

“Oh. Hey, y/n.”

“Hey, JT.”

He disappeared up the stairs just as fast as he entered the house.

“Sorry, I thought he had already finished moving to his new place,” Tyson apologizes, pushing a hand through your hair.

“Does he know anything about what’s going on between us?” You ask, sheepishly. 

“Uh, yeah,” he responds, scratching at the back of his head. “I might’ve called him a few days after you left Canada to tell him and get advice.”

“And what did he say?”

“That’s a secret.”

You playfully shove at his chest and he stumbles backward. “Fine. Let’s get a move on this packing. We’re almost done.”

You playfully slap at Tyson’s ass before pushing him towards the stairs, a task made difficult by the brunette due to his size and unwillingness to move. After a few more shoves and the promise of a kiss, he’s finally heading down the stairs so he can finish packing up the remainder of his clothes.

--

“Hey,” you shout as you walk through the front door of Tysons’ apartment, announcing your presence. Tyson’s sitting on his couch, watching something on the tv. “I texted Kacey and-“

“Wait. You texted my sister?” Tyson asks a hint of awe and confusion in his tone.

“Yes, but that’s not the point. I texted your sister for your grandma’s almond butter cookie recipe and now I’m here because I thought we could bake them together.” You had known he had already started to miss St. Albert even after only being gone for a little over a week. This was the first time you really got a taste of what an NHL off-season was like and when you were in Kelowna, you could start to fathom how hard it was for Tyson to leave home every summer. The least you could do was help make that transition a little easier for him.

Tyson joins you shortly as he watches you fill the contents of your canvas grocery bag onto his kitchen island. He picks up the jar of almond butter before setting it back down. 

“You know I don’t bake.”

“There’s always time to learn, Tys,” you state. “And now’s a perfect time!”

A laugh slips out of Tyson’s mouth at your eagerness. He goes quiet after, thinking back to the comment you first made about how you texted his sister. His heart swells at the thought of it, at the thought of you and his sister possibly becoming friends. His heart swells, even more, knowing that Kacey didn’t really have an older female influence in her life that wasn’t their mom or a relative, or even her teammates at school. He wants to ask you how often you talk to her, but he decides against it, not wanting to intrude.

The last thing you pull out is a plastic mixing bowl and utensils to properly make the cookies. Tyson laughs at the extra tools, to which you reply with a scoff,

“I literally helped you move, I know you don’t have the things to bake.”

He throws his hands up in defense before poking at your side, causing you to squeal. You slap his hands away, telling him to focus. The two of you get through making the cookie dough pretty easily, as Tyson was attentive to your directions for once. It’s moreso you mixing the ingredients together as Tyson hands you what you need while he tells you about the start of training camp. You let him press the almonds on the tops of each cookie and you hop up onto the counter as he puts them into the oven. 

“I have a question to ask you,” Tyson announces as he shuts the oven door.

“Shoot,” you answer.

“So every year in November we have the Mile High Dreams Gala. It’s this huge charity event all of the Denver sports teams host,” he starts, moving to stand in between your open legs. He places his hands on your thighs, rubbing his thumbs softly over the exposed skin. “And I know it’s not for another two months, but I’d love for you to come with me.”

“Like one where you wear a nice suit and I wear a fancy dress?” You ask curiously.

“Yeah one like that,” he chuckles. 

You ponder the idea for a minute, puckering your lips in thought. “On one condition, you come with me to the Dermot Kennedy concert in a few weeks.”

“I thought you and Caitlyn were going?” He asked, confused.

“She was supposed to, yeah, but Jack’s brother is getting married that weekend.”

“Sounds like you’re gonna need to start shopping for a new dress then,” Tyson smiles.

A comfortable silence falls around the both of you as you scrape your finger on the side of the mixing bowl, picking up the remnants of the raw cookie dough before plopping it into your mouth. 

His thumbs continue to rub small circles on your thighs before he breaks the silence, “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Okay,” you start, hesitantly. When Tyson usually wanted to talk to you about something specific, he usually just came right out and said it. The fact that he’s asking you first makes you avoid his gaze, and you look at the small, potted plant behind him that’s sitting on his tv stand in the distance. You swallow thickly, trying your best to suppress the burst of anxiety coursing through your veins. 

“You asked me the other day if JT knew about what was going on between us, and he does, but -” Tyson takes a deep breath, stopping himself. His thumbs stop moving on your thighs, and you grab his hands in hopes of giving him comfort. “But, I’m not even sure what’s going on between us. You came to Canada, and I don’t know, there was just this huge shift between us and we haven’t really talked about it. I know I’ve only been back for a week and it’s always a hectic first few weeks back for me-”

“Tys, you’re rambling,” you interrupt. “Take a breath.”

“I really don’t know how to talk about it because it’s so new and intense. You’re my best friend and I don’t know how to even talk about taking it further or even how, really.”

“I don’t really know either,” you admit, playing with his fingers where they’re joined with yours. “But I really like this and it doesn’t even feel that different than before.”

“I do know that this is what I want. I want to sit here and talk about the universe with you. I want you to help me prank my friends and for you to tell me when I’m being immature. And at the same time, I want to be there to tell you when you need to let loose and be the one you go to about work even though I don’t understand a thing that comes out of your mouth when you do,” he explains. His nervousness seems to be gone as he focuses on your reaction. It was a lot for him to come out and admit these things, and you know that. 

As he spoke, the feelings you felt from the last day at his old house came flooding back. The man in front of you was fate, and he clearly felt that you were put in his life for a reason as well. All of the little things with him like napping, cooking, going to his games, and the bigger things like meeting his family, and spending time with him outside of Denver really meant just as much to him as it did to you. You’re finally starting to see it and the way he’s talking to you has perfectly mirrored his previous actions. 

“Tyson,” you start, your voice cracking. You take a deep breath and sniffle, holding yourself back from letting any tears out. Tyson lets go of your hands quickly, bringing his up to your face, grasping your cheeks.

“Hey,” he says leveling his head with yours to get better direct eye contact. “What we’re not gonna do is cry.”

“You can’t say things like that to me and not expect me to cry,” you sniff, a few tears escaping from the inner corners of your eyes. Tyson catches them before they can even leave mascara smudges. “Ever since you walked into that study room at school, you were all I wanted. I just wasn’t ready.”

Tyson looks at you in a questioning manner. You can see it in his eyes, he wants to ask you if you’re ready now, if you’re ready to dive head-first into being with him romantically. You lift one of your hands and place it on where his hand is still on your cheek. Looking at him, you feel the same way you think you’ve always felt about him-- a way you were too scared to admit to yourself, a way you sometimes even avoided feeling. However, in this moment,, you know you’re ready for more with him.

“I want you, in every way possible.”

Tyson leans further in, his hands still on either side of your face. The intensity combined with the softness of his gaze has your body feeling weightless, the warmth from his hands keeping you grounded. He leans in all the way, capturing your lips with his in a passionate, heated kiss. He slides his hands from where they were on your cheeks to the junction of your waist, pulling you to the edge of the counter and closer to him. 

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles and digging your heels into his ass, urging him to come impossibly closer. Your hands brush over the expanse of his chest, and up to the back of his neck, where you lightly scrape your nails. He bites at your lip, letting out a small moan when his groin brushes over your clothed center. Pushing your hands up his torso underneath his shirt, you tug on it letting him know you want him to take it off. He pulls away, just for enough time to peel his shirt off, before latching his lips right back on yours.

Your hands travel around his torso, your fingers dipping into the curves and definitions of his muscles. You’ve never felt so connected to someone with just kissing, and you’re trying to memorize where every line is on his toned torso because you never want to forget this feeling-- the feeling of pure elation and pure want deep in your bones.

His lips traveling down your jaw and to your neck pulls you from your thoughts. His lips kiss lightly against your warm skin, adding a coolness before he softly bites down when your neck meets your shoulder. 

“Tys, baby,” you moan out. He hums against you, not wanting to take his lips away from your skin. “We can’t keep doing this on kitchen counters.”

Your request has Tyson pulling away from you and he picks you up, hands squeezing at your ass as he walks you to his bedroom. When he drops you onto the bed, he crawls over you, eyes dark. You lick your lips as you look down his torso once more, fully being able to appreciate his athletic build with no shame for once. He smiles widely as he leans further in, reconnecting your lips.

His hand pushes your shirt up your torso, revealing your lacy bralette. He pulls one cup aside, exposing your hardening nipple before wrapping his lips around it. Your hips buck up at the feeling and when he pulls away to switch to the other nipple, you take the opportunity to pull your shirt off over your head. You’re lost in the scent of his shampoo, a combination of sage and lemon. Once he gives your nipples ample attention, he leaves a trail of kisses down your stomach, kissing above the waistband of your running shorts. Hooking his fingers under the material and his eyes flick to look at your face, making sure he has the okay before he’s pulling them off your legs.

“You need to tell me that you’re sure you want to do this,” Tyson breathes out heavily. “This is so much more than-”

“I know. I want this, I want you,” you interrupt, reassuring him of your intentions, running your hands through his curls. He smiles up at you, before dipping his head down between your thighs. The warmth of his breath combined with your view of him has you rolling your eyes into the back of your head. 

His tongue peeks out of his mouth as he licks at his lips, looking up at you. His eyes focus back onto your center, and his tongue sticks back out again, this time licking a stripe up your folds. His hands rub along your thighs, pushing your knees to the bed, leaving more room for his torso. The heavy grip on your thighs disappears and you feel his thumb find your clit. The new pressure eclipses a moan from you as he fucks his tongue into you.

His thumb continues to rub your clit, your hips grinding up against his face to get as much friction from him as possible. His other hand comes to lay flat against your lower stomach, pushing your down to keep you from moving. He lifts his face up, thumb still on your clit.

“Stay still,” he demands, looking up at your face. You lift up to rest on your elbows, giving yourself a better view of Tyson’s head between your thighs and nod in understanding. Your eyes stay focused on him, as he looks back down at your pussy and lets spit drop out of his mouth. The action has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and the cool sensation on your hot folds has you gasping and throwing your head back onto the pillow.

He spreads the wetness around, this time focusing his tongue’s movements on your clit. He pumps a finger into you, curling his finger to find your sweet spot. He adds another finger, and you focus on the wet sounds coming from your center.

“Tyson,” you whine, threading your fingers through his hair once again. Your grip tightens as you feel the familiar pressure start to build. Tyson groans against your clit and wraps his lips around the small bundle of nerves, bringing you to your high. He licks at your folds through your orgasm, only pulling away when your grip on his hair loosens. His lips are redder than normal and swollen and his beard is glistening from your juices. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand as he crawls back over you, setting some of his weight on your body as he kisses you.

As your lips move against him, a whine escapes your mouth when you feel the outline of his dick through his shorts. You reach your hand down to wrap your fingers around his clothed member, and Tyson moves one of his hands to push both his shorts and underwear off. 

“Fuck,” he curses against your mouth as he feels your thumb swipe against the tip of his cock. His hips buck into your hand, and you start to push at his chest to make him flip over onto his back. He’s hesitant to follow your movements, and you pull away from his lips,

“I wanna blow you,” you mumble against his lips.

“You can do it another time,” he asserts. “Just wanna be inside you.”

You nod, kissing down his jaw, sucking marks across his neck and shoulders. He leans up on his elbows, pulling away to grab at his nightstand.

“No, no condom. I’m on birth control.”

“You sure?” Tyson asks, hand still on his nightstand drawer. You nod your head yes, and he groans, presumably at the thought of him being inside you, bare. Finally, he crawls back over you, pushing one of your knees up into your chest. His lips leave yours, his forehead resting on yours. Gripping his member, he spreads his tip through your folds, gathering your wetness.

“Please,” you whine, squeezing one of your hands around his bicep as his tip catches against your clit. His eyes caught yours once again as he pushed himself inside you slowly. Your mouth drops open at the feeling, a choked out moan coming out. 

He picks up a slow yet steady rhythm fucking into you, one arm hooking under your thigh keeping you spread open for him. His lips move roughly against yours, your mouth silencing his moans. 

His lips detach from yours and he brings his other hand to rub his fingers at your clit. His eyes focus on yours and his pace slows down slightly. He’s hitting inside you deep and you can feel every part of him against you. You bring your hand to cup his jaw, your thumb brushing against his bottom lip. If you thought the connection when the two of you were kissing was a lot, the connection you felt now, with him buried deep inside of you, was a million times that. He pauses his thrusts, his member buried deep in you. 

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” you whisper. Tyson, a man usually of many words, opts for a silent response and kisses you deeply. With one hand on his face, you hold him to you as he starts moving again. Trailing his kisses down your neck he finds your sweet spot where your shoulder meets your neck.

“You feel so good, fuck.”

He picks up his pace, fucking you slowly, yet hard, as you both try to savor this

movement between the two of you. The finger rubbing your clit picks up speed and your fingers around his bicep tighten, leaving crescent marks behind. 

“I’m close,” you breathe out. Your walls tighten around his member as you tightly close your eyes. Tyson brings his mouth back up to yours, kissing you until you’re pulling away with a loud moan as your orgasm rushes over you. He fucks you through it, leaving some pressure on your clit even when your high has passed. His orgasm follows yours soon after, his cock twitching as he spills deep inside of you.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, too.” He says. You kiss him fully, whining against his lips as he pulls his member from you. He flops down next to you, pulling your body tight into his chest. Your hand falls over his heart, the skin there sticky and shining from sweat. Your breath falls in line with his, and your eyes close briefly. His fingers push through your hair, trying his best to smooth out the knots that were previously created. He tugs a little harder, tilting your head up so you’re looking at him.

He opens his mouth before his face twists. He inhales deeply, his eyebrows furrowed as he turns his focus away from you.

“What’s that smell?” Tyson asks. You waft some of the air around you towards your face and that’s when a lightbulb goes off in your head.

“The cookies!” You shriek, jumping up and detangling your limbs from Tyson’s. His booming laughter fills your ears as you run to the kitchen to inspect the damage. Turning the oven off with a beep, and taking out the burnt cookies, Tyson’s body appears behind you. 

He places a kiss on your bare shoulder where the blanket started to slip, “God, I could get used to this.”

His whisper against your skin causes a shiver to run through your body. Once the burnt cookies are on top of the oven, you turn around in Tyson’s arms, leaning up to brush your nose against his.

“Me too.”

September 2019 - Red Rocks, CO

 “Tyson, I don’t think you understand how excited I am!” You exclaim as you go to hug him hello at the door. “I’ve literally been looking forward to this since I got the tickets in February!”

Tyson chuckles into your neck. Letting go, you walk back into your kitchen. Tyson follows closely behind, watching you grab your water bottle and your purse. 

“Hey, I didn’t know this picture was taken,” Tyson gestures to the photo of the two of you hanging on your fridge. You smile as you look at the photo he’s pointing to. It’s from a home playoff game in the second round, a few days prior to them being knocked out. The picture in question is you and him after the game outside the locker room. He’s dressed in his navy game-day suit,holding his tie, phone, and headphones in one hand, while the other arm is wrapped around your torso. Your hand is squeezing his cheeks, forcing his smile to be somewhat squished. 

“Yeah, I went through the pictures on my phone after I got back from Canada to see what I wanted to get printed and saw that one.” You answer with a smile. “It was too good a memory to not put somewhere.”

Tyson’s smile slightly widens, remembering the night in question vividly. He was on a post-game high. He had scored a goal that game, helping propel the team to force a Game 7 in San Jose. You had gone to the game by yourself, sitting with some of the WAG’s and family members of the team and enjoyed every minute of playoff hockey in the Can with people you normally didn’t attend games with. 

“It’s a nice picture,” he compliments quietly, dropping his hands back down to his sides. He follows you to your front door, watching you as you slip on your Doc Martens. You’re wearing a one-sleeved bodysuit, paired with a pair of patchwork jeans.

You let him know you’re all ready to go, standing up and placing your hands on his chest and placing a kiss to his lips. Your eyes are wide and bright when you pull away, emphasized by your long eyelashes, and he doesn’t think you’ve stopped smiling in the few minutes he’s been here.

“Thank you again for going to this concert with me so last minute. I know you don't really like this type of music,” You say, referring to the Dermot Kennedy concert you’re getting ready for.

“He’s your favorite artist, I’ll be fine, Y/n,” Tyson reassures. “Besides, it’s an excuse for me to dance with no judgment.”

Hopping into Tyson’s SUV, you snatch the aux cord before he can protest and play your driving playlist on Spotify. The 45-minute car ride to Red Rocks from your place is spent with all the windows down, your feet up on the dash, enjoying the cool, Denver summer, and its almost fall-like air. Your playlist is bouncing through the speakers for most of it, both of you singing at the tops of your lungs. Joyful laughter keeps interrupting both of you, too excited and infatuated with the other.

As Tyson pulls into the amphitheater parking lot, you turn the radio down, taking in the sights around you. The bright oranges and reds of the canyon rocks shock you - you had looked at plenty of photos of Red Rocks Canyon since you had moved here, but none of those did justice to the sight in front of you.

“Holy shit,” you exclaim, settling onto the ground next to the wide-open car door. “This is breathtaking.” 

Tyson meets you on your side of the car, leaning on the side of the hood, “Yeah, it really is.

And you know he can’t even really see the vibrant coloring of it, but when you turn around to look back at him you notice he’s looking more at you than the canyon surrounding you. Tyson opens the trunk of his SUV, you going to sit down on the ledge once it’s fully open. The two of you sit there for a while, enjoying the view and each other's company, waiting for the doors to open for the show.

“Okay, so you can’t get mad at me for not singing any of the songs.” Tyson makes you promise, with a laugh.

“I won’t. I promise.” You assure, putting your pinky up to intertwine your pinky with his. He pinky promises you, and you kiss your thumb, him following suit. A somewhat childish tradition you made him do with you every time you made a promise to one another. As you drop your hands from in front of your faces, Tyson leans in stealing a kiss. You pull away with a shy smile, still not used to the new dynamics of your relationship.

Not too long later, you’re walking into the venue and down to your seats. Tyson leads the way, your hand in his as he leads you through the large crowd. Once you reach your seats you take in the sights around you and the ethereal atmosphere. The pre-show playlist is playing through the speakers as you tell Tyson everything he needs to know about the show that’s soon to start.

The lights go out, and the darkness of the canyon surrounds you until the show starts and Dermot Kennedy enters the stage through a cloud of smoke. As the set continues, Tyson has moved his focus from the stage to your dancing form next to him. Your eyes seem to be closed more often than not, letting yourself get lost in the environment and dance along to the beats of the heartwarming music. He’s swaying his body next to yours, not as lost in it all as you are.

The soft intro of ‘For Island Fires and Family’ starts and a small shriek leaves your mouth. You turn to Tyson, yelling to him that this is your favorite song. His smile replicates yours, eyes crinkly, as he pays more attention to this one than the ones that came before. As the chorus comes and the guitar starts to pick up, Tyson focuses more on the lyrics. 

Tyson takes this chance to pull you into his side. His arm slings over your shoulder and you turn your face to him smiling, grabbing the hand draped over you.

“But she's bringin' the moon and stars to me, damn permanent reverie. And even though this life, this love is brief, I've got some people who carry me” You sing softly, swaying your head to the piano and strums of the guitar. Tyson hums next to you at a quieter volume, nodding his head to the beat. Every time the chorus passes, Tyson squeezes you a little tighter into him. 

Once the show ends you make your way back to the parking lot and as you reach his car, he meets you on the passenger side with you. You thank him again for coming with you, giving him a hug and a quick, gentle kiss.

“No problem. I had a lot more fun than I thought I would.” He admits, pecking your lips once more. 

The drive back to your house is quiet, mostly because you’re too awestruck at the show you were just at. As he’s pulling into your neighborhood, you turn the music down, continuing to sing along softly. He turns to look at you, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss to the back of it. He rests your joined hands on his lap. You stick your hand out the window, feeling the wind against your skin, the streetlights bouncing off your jewelry, and creating an almost ethereal glow on your skin.

He pulls into the parking lot, parking his car next to yours. He meets you at the back of his car and stops you from walking up to your front door.

“I love you,” he blurts out. He realizes then how unromantic this moment is, with how the two of you are standing in a parking lot full of your neighbor’s cars. “I love you so, so much.”

“Tyson, I -” You stutter, pulling away from him. His admission shocks you and it all feels too early for it to be happening. You had only just talked about your feelings in the past week and were just starting to feel fully comfortable being in this new relationship with him. You hadn’t even told anyone other than Caitlyn about the new aspects of yours and Tyson’s relationship. “Do you have your soulmark, what, when -”

“I don’t - I don’t know, it just hit me,” He stutters. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. He takes a step towards you, effectively canceling out the step you had taken away from him moments prior. Your feet are stuck to the ground and you’re having trouble focusing on any of the thoughts running through your brain. What if he truly does love you, but doesn’t have a soulmark? What if he does have a soulmark, but you never get yours with him?

Tyson can see that your mind is running a mile a minute and he grabs your shoulders, pulling you into him. He runs his hand in a comforting manner over your hair before placing a kiss there. He pulls away, and gives you yet another quick kiss, in hopes that it calms both of you down.

“I have no idea about the soulmark, I just know that I love you. It came in waves throughout the night, and then it just hit during that one song and at the end. The one you were singing with your whole chest and I had you in my arms.”

“For Island Fires and Family?” You ask, thinking back to how tightly he held you to his chest during that specific song.

“Yeah,” He breathes out.

“Tyson,” you start, looking down at your shoes to avoid his gaze. “I can’t say it back.” 

It breaks your heart to even say that to him, especially with the amount of love you already have for the brunette. He already had a piece of your heart, but looking back up at him you couldn’t find the words to say that you were in love with him.

“That’s fine,” Tyson assures, his tone light letting you know that it really is in fact okay.

“It’s just really early and there were so many changes so fast,” you explain further. “But, I can tell you right now that I have love for you already, and that I am falling for you. You just have to give me time.”

He nods his head in understanding, taking yet another deep breath. You stand there in his embrace a moment longer before he leads the two of you up to your door.

Tyson’s in the bathroom finishing up while you’re already in bed, under the covers. When you hear the bathroom door open, you set your phone down and look over at Tyson. He’s smiling widely as he scratches his head. He sits at the edge of your bed and pulls his t-shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere on the floor.

“Holy fucking shit,” you gasp, sitting up further in bed.

“What?” Tyson asks, twisting around to look at you.

“Your fucking arm!” You exclaim, reaching out to touch at the ink adorning his once bare arm. 

Your jaw drops at the revelation, staring at Tyson, whose eyebrows are knitted in confusion. Opening your mouth to speak, nothing comes out but a choked noise. You point at his arm, not able to find your words, hoping he takes the hint and looks at his arm.

He glances between you and where you’re pointing and he sees the black ink just above his elbow. He jumps up, running to your bathroom to get a better look at it in the mirror. He examines it closely. He doesn’t notice your presence until your hands land on his bare chest, and he turns his focus from the mirror back to you. He doesn’t hesitate to grab your face and bring your lips to his in a heated, passionate kiss. 

“I am so fucking in love with you,” he announces once he pulls away. Looking into his eyes you notice the glossiness in them. 

“Let me see it,” you whisper, dancing your fingers along the back of his right arm. 

He turns his body enough for you to get a clear look at the brand new ink. Just above his elbow is a half-sun, surrounded by the phases of the moon, adorned with various small dots and lines to make it look more complete. The lines are delicate, which is something your mind links to the way you treat one another. You place a kiss in the center of it, before wrapping your arm around Tyson’s waist turning him around.

“It’s gorgeous,” you compliment.

A blush rises to Tyson’s tan cheeks. His eyes are sparkling in the harsh lighting of your bathroom and his smile is bright as he looks down at you. Your heart is full and your hand stays wrapped around his bicep, almost like if you take your hand away the mark will disappear. 

“I guess this means I’m your soulmate, huh?” You smile.

“I guess so,” He smiles back, wrapping his arms around you to fully embrace you.

The two of you make your way to bed eventually, only after pulling away from Tyson long enough to get there. The two of you don’t fall asleep for hours after getting in bed, too caught up in one another’s body, and the connection between your souls. He’s snoring above you and you smile to yourself before dozing off. You may not be in love with him yet, but you knew in your heart that you were a few steps from falling.

tag list: @reavenedges-lies​ @oilers2997​ @quinnsbxtch​ (let me know if you wanted to be added!)

[youcouldmakealife]

Stephen/Gabe, Jared; first impressions (pt 2)

The second half of the fill for this prompt:  Stephen PoV of the new winger?

Now with...20% Jared! And...30% Stephen and Gabe bickering and 50% Jared being accurate when he decided Stephen must be a fellow hobgoblin.

The game in Kelowna is the opposite of interesting from a pure entertainment perspective, but it’s actually the ideal game to watch to gauge Quinn Tuttle’s defensive play, or lack thereof. He cobbles together a report during intermissions, finishes it and sends as Prospera empties out, calls Gabe on his way back to the hotel so he can convince him not to drive home.

“Do not drive home,” Gabe dutifully tells him.

“I hate hotels,” Stephen says.

“I know you do,” Gabe says. “But you’re not driving an eight hour round trip in twelve hours.”

“I know,” Stephen sighs. He hates staying at hotels in general, and it doesn’t help that he’s been put up in a fucking Best Western.

“Go to sleep early, you can be back in time for us to grab lunch?” Gabe says. “We’ll do that taco place that just opened up.”

“Okay,” Stephen says.

“If I wake up to find you in bed beside me I’m gonna be pissed at you,” Gabe says.

Like he wouldn’t wake up the second Stephen opened the door just to be pissed at him.

Stephen goes to bed early, is on the road by eight, has enough time to shower in his own shower — he hates hotel showers most of all — and still grab lunch with Gabe before Gabe has to head out to Rogers Arena and Stephen heads to work to get a half day in. He works better on the road, at the office, than he ever does at home, always gets distracted by the smallest things and then blinks and two hours have passed and he knows more about cuttlefish than any one person should know. 

He listens to the second half of the first period during the drive home — up by one. By the time he’s changed into sweats and a t-shirt and extracted the chips from their hiding place — they both agree the junk must stay hidden for Gabe’s own good, but he has to keep finding new spots because Gabe will sniff them out in moments of weakness — they’re still up by one, but two more goals have been scored, and when Stephen checks the boxscore, one of those is by Dmitry, with an assist from Gabe, a secondary assist from Jared, which is pretty good for their first game as a line.

Gabe’s probably staying out with the guys celebrating Jared’s first point as a Canuck — so Stephen gets ready for bed, is halfway through his one chapter a night of what is indeed a history of nearly everything, but is not brief — when Gabe gets home, clattering around in the kitchen for a minute before coming upstairs.

“You didn’t go out for drinks?” Stephen asks.

“Just stayed for my free one,” Gabe says. “See the goal?”

“Saw the goal,” Stephen confirms, because he’s sure seeing a replay of it in highlights counts. “Nice one. Jared’s pass to you was a beauty. Line’s clicking.”

“Line’s clicking,” Gabe says happily.

Stephen dog ears the corner of the page he’s on while Gabe’s back is turned — otherwise he’ll give Stephen a sad face and go hunting for a bookmark to give him — sits up and listens to Gabe do a post-game breakdown as he changes for bed.

“So what do you think of Jared?” he asks as he crawls into bed.

“He looked good out there,” Stephen says. “Comfortable.”

“Yeah,” Gabe says. “But like — not hockey. I know you only met him for a minute, but you’re very—”

Stephen looks at him.

“You have strong first impressions?” Gabe says, which Stephen suspects is Gabe trying to find a nice way to say ‘you’re judgy’.

Stephen’s not judgy, he’s just not interested in spending time with people who are not worth that time.

“He seemed fine?” Stephen says. “As long as he’s not another Dmitry I’ll probably like him.”

“You love Dima, don’t front,” Gabe says. “And nah, he’s more of a you.”

“Oh, do tell,” Stephen says, “What is a ‘me’?”

“He’s pretty quiet, but from what I’ve been able to tell he’s kind of snarky,” Gabe says. “Seems like the kind of guy who’s really good at finding where other people make mistakes. Like, to fix them, but also just to find them. Definitely get that vibe from him. And he’s smart as hell, I’ll tell him something once and he’ll know exactly what I’m asking for and do it.”

Well that was slightly unflattering, though Stephen knows Gabe doesn’t mean it that way. He’s been aware of all of Stephen’s faults since — forever, probably, and he’s still there, so mostly he’s just saying it matter-of-factly.

Still, Stephen can’t let that stand.

“I am none of those things,” Stephen says, then considers. “Except smart. I’m very smart.”

“You are,” Gabe says agreeably.

“But none of the other things,” Stephen insists.

“Okay,” Gabe says. “You also never do what I ask you to do, so admittedly it’s probably a little off.”

“Hey,” Stephen says. “That is completely unfair and untrue.”

“Did you pick up our suits from the dry cleaner on your way home?” Gabe asks.

He forgot. And Gabe asked him twice, and texted him before the game to make sure, so Gabe has won this round. Unless —

“Are you saying I didn’t?” Stephen says. They’re a twenty-four hour place, so maybe he can distract Gabe and —

“I know you didn’t,” Gabe says.

“You don’t,” Stephen counters. Maybe if he texts Dmitry from the bathroom and asks him to —

“I know you didn’t, because I picked up our stuff from the dry cleaner on my way home,” Gabe says.

Fuck. Entrapment. Stephen hadn’t considered entrapment. Gabe’s usually above entrapment.

“I got caught up listening to the first period,” Stephen says. It’s not a lie, technically.

“Uh huh,” Gabe says.

“Thank you for picking them up,” Stephen says, and picks up his book.

“You’re welcome,” Gabe says, leans over Stephen’s shoulder to see where he is. He’s already read it, so he periodically checks.

“Stephen,” Gabe says.

“Yes Gabriel,” Stephen says.

“Are you vandalizing my books again?” Gabe asks.

“Everything in this house belongs to both of us,” Stephen says, but he guiltily un-dog ears the page when Gabe gives him a disappointed look.

[antoineroussel-archive]

this is getting good now - tyson jost

series: this is getting good now

summary: a warm week in summerland is the best time to fall in love.

word count: 6,855

Flick kicked her feet up into the coffee table, knocking Mat’s sideways. She placed a plate gently onto her lap and started to peel her orange as casually as she could.

“So…” she said slowly. “Tyson…”

“I mean,” Mat said after swallowing a mouthful of beer, “my name’s Mat. We’ve known each other since we were five, you should probably know that.”

“You fuck off for ten months out of the year.” Flick threw a section of her orange peel at him. He deflected it easily. “You should be happy I even remember what you look like.”

Mat took another drink, shifted so he was more facing her than the television and asked, “What about Tyson?”

Obviously, he knew who she was talking about, given that they were about to spend two weeks with exactly one person named Tyson.

Even though Flick had initiated the conversation, she averted her eyes back to her orange and said quietly, “Is he… I don’t know. Is he single?”

“Now you’re interested in my friends? I tried to set you up with Tito like three years ago and you wanted to kill me.”

“Okay,” Flick said, lifting her head and levelling him with a fierce glower, “first of all, I had a boyfriend.”

“He was an asshole,” Mat said easily, gesturing forward with the beer bottle, not at all impacted by the look.

“Irrelevant,” Flick countered. “I had a boyfriend. Second of all—this conversation isn’t about you setting me up with anyone it’s just me asking if Tyson is single.”

Mat nodded and Flick knew him well enough to see a plan forming in his head. She dug her thumb underneath the skin, ripping another section of peel off.

“I’ll let him know you’re interested. It’ll be great.”

“If anybody ever finds out that I asked you that question, I will shave your head. Not just one eyebrow; I’m talking every single hair on your head.”

“God you’re dramatic. Do you know how many girls would kill to be you? Free access to hockey players; all they have to do is say the word to their best friend.”

“And you think Reid was an asshole?”

Flick waited until Mat was leaning forward, putting his beer bottle on the table, so that she could throw her peel at him unhindered. It hit him on the side of the face, and she raised her arms victoriously.

Mat sputtered, some of his last mouthful dripping down his chin before he wiped at it with the bottom of his shirt. Flick laughed, her arms still raised in the air. Mat leaned over to jab at her ribcage, jolting her. Her reflexes meant he was kicked in the leg.

“I’m not going to say anything,” he said eventually, rubbing out his thigh where her foot had connected. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“I know. Thank you.”

Okanagan Lake was what Flick assumed people meant when they referred to ‘Heaven on Earth’. No other place would ever compare—and they were only driving through Kelowna when that thought crossed her mind. Things only got better in Summerland.

She leaned in between the front seats, looking sideways at Mat in the driver’s seat and then to Cheyenne, his girlfriend, in the passenger seat.

“You don’t know how good this is going to be,” Flick said to Cheyenne, who shifted to look at her.

“I’ve been to lake houses before,” Cheyenne said with a laugh. She had been saying similar things the entire drive up, whenever Flick had waxed poetic. Which was the majority of the trip.

“You’ve never been to this one.”

Flick calmed down enough to give Cheyenne a reprieve but internally she was buzzing at the thought of the Lake and being able to sit on the jetty. The serenity of it all was something she longed for year-round.

Three cars were already lined up in the drive, indicating that everyone else had already arrived. Flick was out of the car before it had even stopped, running towards the open front door. Kerf was exiting the bedroom near the front door at the same time and Flick collided him; they were able to manoeuvre it into a hug.

“Always a hazard, Flick,” Kerf said with all the grace of someone saying, ‘Always a pleasure’.

“Kitchen?” Flick asked, pulling away and running off before he could even answer.

“Hurricane Felicity has made landfall!”

Everyone was situated in the room off the kitchen, splayed across couches which made it very easy for Felicity to shout and jump onto the couch that Tyson and Tito were sitting on.

“Jesus, fuck, Flick.” Tito’s voice was strained, and he pushed Flick’s legs out of his lap and covered his crotch. He hunched over on the couch and groaned continuously.

Flick was ready to be mortified and apologise, when a delighted chuckle came from above her. She sat up instantly, her cheeks warming when she realised that her head had been in Tyson’s lap—for however brief a time it was. Sitting up resulted in her flailing her legs and another loud gasp from Tito.

“Hurricane Felicity back in fine form,” Dante laughed as Flick stood up and apologised profusely to Tito, rubbing her hands soothingly on his shoulders. “Try not to break my house this year.”

Looking back over her shoulder, Flick pouted, “One window.”

“More windows than anyone else broke.”

“Oh good,” Mat laughed, walking into the room. “Tito’s already broken.”

Tito groaned, straightened up for half a second before bending back in half, “Right in the dick.”

Flick apologised some more, everybody else laughed some more until Tito was able to stand up without looking like he was about to cry. Once they were all calmed down, they stood in the centre of the room and discussed where they would be sleeping—like there would be any argument. The couples—Kerf and Marissa, and Mat and Cheyenne—would get the bedrooms on the first floor. Dante and Flick would get their own bedrooms on the second floor and Tito and Tyson would have to share the final room.

Tito’s protest could be heard as Flick rounded the corner and hightailed it up the stairs.

“I just got hit in the dick and can’t even get my own room!”

A line formed in the kitchen early the next morning after everyone had eaten their breakfast. The boys were ready for their summer haircuts—a staple of Mat’s since he and Flick were 16 years old—and Flick had set up shop in the breakfast nook once they had been able to move the table.

“You need to befriend Nolan Patrick,” she told Dante as she brushed the stray hairs off his neck and removed the apron.

“Why’s that?”

“Because he’s in desperate need of a haircut.”

“You can’t disrespect the flow like that,” Dante countered.

“He’s disrespecting the flow by letting it look like that. Why are hockey boys always so afraid of shampoo?”

Dante countered her again, starting a mini debate that lasted until the rest of the house could be heard shouting and screaming out on the jetty. Not one to miss out, Dante made a break for it mid-sentence.

Flick was cleaning up, sweeping the floor and readying to pack up her tools when Tyson moseyed into the kitchen still wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“Oh, I missed haircuts,” he frowned, his eyes focusing on the broom. “Why didn’t anyone wake me?”

Flick picked up the apron and waved it dramatically, “The salon’s still open.”

Tyson sat down in the make shift salon chair and Flick readied him for his haircut with a towel and then the apron. He settled instantly, his shoulders relaxing and his breathing evening out. It was a stark contrast to the other boys who had been antsy so that they could get outside as quick as possible.

“I like your hair when it’s curly,” Flick said softly, without really meaning to, as she pushed her fingers through the tips to determine the length. “When you don’t put product in it.”

His head lolled back, and a small moan left his mouth. Flick immediately pulled her hands away and reached for her clippers.

They were silent as Flick went about the haircut. He moved pliantly whenever she tilted his head and barely shifted the rest of his body unless she was no longer touching him—it was a lot easier than trying to cut Mat or Tito’s hair as they shifted constantly and tried to talk to one another if they were in the same room.

Flick, when she deemed the job finished, went about removing the apron but stopped with her fingers on the back of Tyson’s neck when he asked, “What? I don’t get it washed?”

“If I wash your hair, you can’t just run and jump into the lake.”

Tyson tilted his head back so that he was looking up at her. Her eyes met his and she couldn’t help but smile at how ridiculous it looked.

“We should go to brunch.”

She quickly stepped away, setting up the basin over the sink and avoiding any further eye contact. Tyson didn’t need any instructions to move the chair in front of the basin and wait for another towel to be draped around his shoulders.

It was a relaxing process, even for her, as she rinsed his hair and started to work shampoo through it—being sure to massage his scalp.

“Close your eyes,” Flick said, poking him in the thigh with her knee as his eyes opened and glanced up at her.

“Why?”

“It’s weird. You’re supposed to be enjoying this.”

“Oh really?” he asked, smirking. Flick’s stomach turned.

It was partially because she was about to bend over him and the shirt she was wearing was loose enough to give him a good eyeful of boob when she did so, though it was mostly because it was weird to have someone staring up at you in what was arguably an intimate situation.

She insisted, “It’s supposed to be relaxing. Now close your eyes.”

He did as was told, though definitely peaked a few times as she worked through his hair; one eye at a time.

“Are we going to brunch? We’ll go to Penticton.”

Flick hummed. “Yeah, we can go.”

Tyson smiled, his eyes still closed, and Flick’s hands stuttered in time with her heart. She didn’t rush through the rest of the wash and cut but she didn’t take her time, either. The anticipation was killing her so when they agreed on having ten minutes to get ready—mostly just to put on clothes that weren’t just swimwear—Flick was ready in half that amount of time and waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs with her hat and sunglasses on and her purse in hand when Tyson bounded down.

The drive out of Summerland was gorgeous—the whole region was breathtaking but what was causing Flick’s uneven breathing was Tyson sitting in the driver’s seat, driving them out. It was easy to fall into a daydream about it being her life, about it being a daily occurrence for her to be in the car with Tyson going to brunch.

The daydream was interrupted by a quick text from Cheyenne asking where they had gotten off to, though it was a quick fix before she was back in her own little land with Khalid as the backing track to their drive.

It all came crashing down pretty quickly. She subtly cleared her throat and said, “Mat and Cheyenne are going to meet us here.”

“Huh?” Tyson asked, mid-lyric in a song. He turned to look at her, brows furrowed together.

“I told Cheyenne so they wouldn’t worry, and she said they’d meet us there.”

“Okay,” Tyson nodded, turning his full attention back to the road. “We’re going to The Hooded Merganser. Mat should know where it is.”

Flick was thankful that the rest of the drive was quick and that she didn’t have much time to silently curse Cheyenne for being a good friend and wanting to know where she was.

They secured a four-seat table out the front of the restaurant and Tyson immediately started to check himself out in the window’s reflection.

“Nobody’s quite as good as you at cutting my hair,” Tyson said, running his hand through his curling hair. “Sucks that I have to wait 12 months for you to fix a year’s worth of mistakes.”

“I don’t have the money to make home visits to Denver… but if you wanted to come see me when you play Vancouver, I’m sure we can work something out.”

By the time Cheyenne and Mat showed up, Flick and Tyson had finished their first coffees. They all ordered their food together and basked in the warm morning sun as they waited.

Mat’s eyes kept moving between Flick and Tyson, who were sitting next to each other on one side of the table. It was most likely because Tyson had an arm stretched casually over the back of Flick’s chair as he was talking, only moving it to eat but then promptly moving it back but Flick couldn’t shake the feeling that he was trying to communicate something with her.

For hours they sat there and ate, enjoying each other’s company and regaling Cheyenne with tales of the group’s previous trip to Summerland. When it finally came time to leave, Tyson jumped up to pay the bill and Cheyenne went to use the bathroom which meant that Flick was finally able to talk to Mat.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now,” she said slowly, leaning forward to speak quietly in case their time alone was shorter than hoped.

“What was I supposed to do? Cheyenne told me we were going to brunch, and I didn’t know we were crashing your date with Josty until we were already halfway here.”

“You couldn’t have come up with some sort of excuse?”

“Like I said, we were already in the car when I found out, Flick,” Mat stressed. “What was I supposed to do? Tell her that we had to turn around because you’re in love with Josty?

“That’s not—I’m not in love with him,” Flick stammered.

“I promised you that I wouldn’t tell anyone,” Mat said softly. “Has that changed?”

Flick sat back in her seat and took a deep breath. She shook her head, “No. Please don’t tell anyone.”

Mat was nodding when both Cheyenne and Tyson returned and collected their things from the table, all ready to make their way back to the house.

“I’m going to hitchhike,” Tyson announced, stepping to the curb with his thumb out.

Confusion overcame Flick as she looked between Tyson, Mat & Cheyenne, hoping to get some sort of explanation but nobody seemed to be as bothered by it as her.

“Tyson, you drove us here,” she said, flustered. A bright red was forming in her cheeks when she realised that the other people in the café were watching and laughing.

“This is more fun.”

Mat smiled at her, unfazed by the act of stupidity and waved goodbye as he and Cheyenne walked in the opposite direction.

“You’re really just going to leave me here while he does that?” she asked, gesturing to Tyson. He hadn’t relented. In fact, he had grown more animated.

“See you back there!”

Flick huffed, flipped Mat off, and marched over to Tyson. She stood far enough away for plausible deniability should anybody think they were together.

“Give me the keys,” she demanded, extending her hand and making a grabbing motion with her fingers.

“I don’t have keys, it’s why I have to hitchhike,” he said pointedly, taking his eyes off the road for just long enough to wink at her.

She repeated her demand through gritted teeth and snatched as soon as they were out of his pocket. Her walk to the car was fast just so that she could get away from Tyson and his wild arm movements.

It was an easy decision to do one loop around the café to see if Tyson was still there—he was very excited to see her, trying to get her to pull over. Harder was the decision to do a second loop and stop the car in front of him on the curb and wind down the passenger’s window.

“Get in the car.”

“Summerland?” he asked, grinning as wide as she had ever seen.

Her finger was on the electric button, winding it back up, when he grabbed the handle and entered the car.

Flick huffed and drove off before the door was even properly closed.

“What’s wrong?”

“That was embarrassing.”

“How? It’s just some fun.”

“People were watching and laughing,” Flick stressed, flexing her fingers on the wheel.

“Yeah?” he asked proudly. “That’s the point.”

Flick shook her head, trying to quell the feeling of embarrassment in her chest. “What if somebody recognised you? Filmed you?”

“There’s that video of me in the Mascot outfit,” he said, his eyes still on her. “I wasn’t hurting anyone or doing anything to anyone else. It’s not that bad, is it?”

Flick sighed, her fingers relaxing against the wheel. “I guess. I’m an anxious person.”

“I’m sorry,” Tyson said, quieter than he had been all morning. “It wasn’t meant to be anything but funny.”

She turned her head to smile at him softly despite her discomfort, before focusing back on the road.

The sun was high in the sky, beating down on Lake Okanagan and the group had descended on the water.

Flick and Tito were sitting with their legs dangling over the edge of the jetty as they watched Mat try to teach Cheyenne how to stand-up paddle board. It was the exact reason Flick liked their trips to Summerland—the warmth, the conversations, the general vibe.

“Are those the colour glasses?” Kerf asked loudly from the beach and Flick turned around just in time to see him poking Tyson right at the bridge of his nose.

The poke quickly became a facewash and Tyson swatted it away to reposition his glasses as he said, “Wanted to see Okanagan for real.”

Kerf nodded sarcastically and knowingly. He looked over at Flick briefly, his smirk becoming increasingly cockier. “Nothing to do with Flick’s penchant for red?”

Tyson looked at her, too, and Flick quickly turned to the horizon, the calm water being enough to capture her attention.

“Maybe.”

Even though she wasn’t looking at him, her face flamed, and she tried to turn in such a way that she didn’t feel as exposed in her bikini. It didn’t work. The small adventurous part of her—the part that was wearing the high leg bikini—had been out in full force that morning but it was becoming more and more tempting to get a dress and cover up.

Tyson replaced Tito next to Flick on the dock. She crossed her arms over her stomach and leaned forward, pretending she was getting a closer look at Cheyenne who was wobbling precariously.

“You don’t want to paddle board?”

“I never learned,” she admitted.

“You should’ve said something, I would have taught you last year,” he said before saying even louder, “I’ll teach you now! It’s just balance!”

“Oh, no—I don’t—I would already know if I wanted—”

“Doesn’t it look like so much fun, though? I’m a good teacher.”

Flick stared at her toes in the water, wiggling them to distract herself from the swelling of her heart in her chest. She jumped when she felt a poke in the side of her stomach, she kicked the water and splashed the two of them on the dock.

She glared at Tyson, though it lifted when she saw the delightfully innocent expression on his face. He gestured to the water with his head, growing more and more delighted by the second. Flick looked back to the water where Cheyenne was now sitting on the paddle board and Mat was leaning his forearms on it; Flick turned away before she could see them kiss.

“See,” Tyson said, prodding her again, “It’s so much fun.”

“Fine.” Flick lifted her legs and pushed herself to standing. “Teach me how to paddle board.”

Tyson jumped up and was just short of cheering as he called out to Cheyenne and Mat that he needed the paddle board. He was in the water, his glasses left behind on the dock, before Flick was even able to register it. She picked up a discarded t-shirt before she dived into the water behind him, meeting him at the paddle board he was bringing closer to the shoreline. Something flickered across his face as he glanced down at the shirt she was wearing and she looked down—and saw what were definitely the words ‘Colorado Avalanche’ stretched across her chest.

“I don’t want to get burnt,” she muttered. Tyson just nodded slowly.

The whole process was harder than Flick had expected. Even though she was a walking nightmare for most people around her—Hurricane Felicity was a nickname well earned—if left to her own devices, Flick was very good at remaining upright and safe. Which, she supposed, was the reason she was struggling so hard under Tyson’s supervision.

It could have been because Tyson kept touching her bare legs as she was kneeling on the board, trying to help her stay on it. It certainly wasn’t helping because with every touch she was a second closer to vibrating out of her own skin.

To make things worse—or better, maybe—when Flick successfully stood up on the board and balanced for more than ten seconds, she threw her arms (and the paddle) above her head and immediately toppled into the water. Directly beside Tyson.

When she came up for air, her cheeks red with embarrassment, Tyson was smiling at her proudly and reaching out to wrap her in a congratulatory hug and she was certain that she was going to never going to recover.

Which is why she extricated herself quickly and ran out of the water and back to the house at speeds she didn’t know she could reach.

A shower was in order—a cold one, a long one—and there was nothing that could stop her.

Flick had her music playing loudly after her shower, she was certain it could be heard from outside the house but with everyone else still in the lake she wasn’t too worried.

Besides, Maren Morris was an artist best enjoyed when singing emphatically. So emphatically that Flick was deeply involved in pretending she was in a music video for Sugar, complete with dramatic lip-syncing and dancing that could only be ended by the song finishing…

And one other thing.

It was out of the corner of her eye that she saw something that hadn’t registered in her mind before and Flick dropped to her knees, clutched her chest and screamed bloody murder.

Tyson’s reaction was to take multiple steps back.

She could hear pounding up the stairs, accompanied by a booming “If it’s a fucking spider, I swear to god, Felicity!” before Mat swung around the door with one hand on the frame. Dante wasn’t far behind him.

“It’s not—Tyson scared the shit out of me.”

Mat rolled his eyes and immediately turned around, grumbling and stomping his feet as he descended the staircase. Dante stood in the door for a few more moments, looking between Flick on the ground—who, by the way, was wearing short shorts and a bralette—and Tyson standing near him at the door and trying to parse the vibes in the room before giving up and slamming the door shut when he left.

“If you wanted my sugar all you had to do was ask.”

“I—no—that’s—it’s not even the song,” Flick mumbled, not moving from her position on the floor or even looking at Tyson. “You should leave.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, and she saw his feet enter her line of vision as he stepped towards her.

“It is embarrassing. More embarrassing than you at brunch the other day.”

Tyson laughed, an honest and loud laugh that relaxed Flick just enough to sit down properly on the floor and draw her knees to her chin. She rested her cheek on her knees and looked sideways at Tyson who had sat on the floor beside her.

Flick sighed and buried her face back in her knees, her cheeks remaining warm.

“What do you want to do for your birthday?” Tyson asked, breaking the silence. Leaning into her.

“Swim?” she asked, pressing into him. Into the warmth radiating off his bare skin.

“You can do better than that.”

“I’m already here with my friends, that’s all I kind of want out of a birthday.”

“We should go to dinner. In Kelowna.”

“That sounds nice.”

Flick straightened, still pressing into Tyson’s arm. His eyes were focused on her face and she kept glancing down at his mouth and how close it was and how easy it would be to—

“I need to finish getting dressed,” she said abruptly, pulling back and clambering to her feet.

“Uh—okay? You are dressed?” Tyson asked uncertainly. He drew his eyes over her body—the bralette she was wearing definitely did not cover enough of her body for him to be doing that and she wrapped her arms around her stomach.

“Please,” she said, somewhat pleading.

He nodded as he stood up. His eyebrows knitted together as he left the room without another word.

She finally turned down the music that was playing.

There was a knock on Flick’s door and she looked at the time on her phone, confirming that it was indeed after two in the morning. She hadn’t even been able to decide if she was going to feign sleep and ignore it when the door opened just a crack. The person invited themselves in, probably noticing the light of her phone.

Flick’s heart jumped into her throat when she saw that it was Tyson walking towards her bed.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, sitting up in a panic and swinging her legs of the bed.

He smiled, shook his head and asked, “Come for a swim?”

Flick rolled her eyes and leaned back on the bed, her legs still over the edge. Tyson copied her.

“It’s the middle of the night,” she protested, only briefly looking sideways at him before picking a point on the ceiling.

“Can’t sleep.”

He was looking at her—she could feel it—and Flick had to steady her voice with a deep breath.

“It’s super dangerous to swim in the lake after dark.”

She felt Tyson’s hand on her forearm just before he begged, “Please. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The ceiling stared back at her as she ran through all possible outcomes for the night—the good and the bad—before she finally said, “Just let me change.”

Tyson was up off the bed and out of the room before she had even finished speaking.

Flick took a few deep breaths after the door shut and then stood up and began to change into her swimsuit—a one piece, this time, and she put on a pair of shorts and a tank top to cover up more of her skin. It was the middle of the night. Cold. It made sense on top of any insecurities she had.

Tyson was leaning against the wall opposite her door, waiting for her with a bigger grin that she had ever seen on him. Impressive, given how big his smile always was.

They snuck out of the house, keeping as quiet as they could though Flick banged into a couple walls along the way and swore when she nearly tripped down the stairs. Which, in turn, caused Tyson to start laughing at her. They had to run quicker out of the house as a result.

“If Ogopogo eats you,” Flick said once they were out the backdoor and not at risk of waking anyone up. “I’m selling the story to every news outlet that’ll listen.”

“I can take Ogopogo, no problem,” Tyson bragged and puffed out his chest. “One arm tied behind my back and everything.”

“Tied up? Now you’re just lying to yourself.”

“There’s a lot I can do when I’m tied up. I’ll show you some time.”

Flick averted her eyes immediately, the meaning behind Tyson’s words hitting her like a ton of bricks. Tyson hip-checked her gently as they walked.

Flick stared out at the water, admiring the moon’s reflection and the light rippling coming towards the shore. If Tyson hadn’t been barrelling down the jetty, yelling simultaneously, it would have been very peaceful.

The yelling ceased momentarily and was replaced by an impressive splash but soon returned, this time directed at Flick to get her into the water.

“I think I’ll just stay here!” She yelled back hesitantly, digging her feet into the sand—the water was barely coming to her ankles.

“I told you I’d protect you.”

“You should never try to save a drowning person without training or, at the very least, a body board.”

“I’ll protect you so good we’re not even going to get to that point.”

“I’ll sit on the edge of the dock,” Flick acquiesced. Her legs dangled off the edge, the high tide meant that the water was nearly at her knees, nearly lapping the dock while Tyson treaded water not far off.

“You worry a lot.”

“Someone has to. I grew up with Mat.”

Tyson swam towards her, resting his arms on the edge of the dock and looking up at her. Flick picked a spot on the horizon and stared at it firmly.

“Doesn’t seem like you get to have a lot of fun.”

“Are you calling me boring?”

“No. I just think you don’t let yourself do a lot of fun things because you overthink about what could go wrong.”

Flick said nothing, knowing that it was at least partially true, and leaned back against the dock to gaze up at the stars. She could hear Tyson swimming around in the lake, accompanied by the water lapping against the dock and at the shore. Even with Tyson sporadically trying to entice her to join him in the water, it was all quite serene.

At least until she heard chatter coming from near the house and then Tyson shouting gleefully.

“You guys are fucking loud,” Mat said just before he jumped off the dock.

“I heard you and Cheyenne going at it,” Tyson countered when Mat came up for air, “You don’t get to call me loud.”

“Not just you,” Mat said and then pointed an accusatory finger at Flick. “That one couldn’t move quietly around a house if she tried.”

Flick took the opportunity to flip him off—or she flipped off his general direction and hoped the message was conveyed.

Cheyenne settled down beside Flick, the two of them gazing at the stars together, and started a conversation about Flick’s birthday plans.

What had started out as a lovely dinner at the Yacht Club overlooking Okanagan very quickly turned. The waiter had just delivered drinks to their table when Flick reached across the table to annoy Alexander.

The wetness of her lap didn’t surprise Flick, not when it was her elbow that had knocked the glass over, but she still went for a tactic of not looking at it and hoping it would go away.

And she was successful until she felt a gentle hand move her arm and use a cloth napkin to wipe at the growing stain.

When she realised it was Tyson, she clamped her hand onto his forearm. “It’s fine.”

“It’s red wine. Colour blind or not, I know it stains,” he argued, trying to move his arm again. Her grip tightened.

“It’s already ruined, a napkin won’t change that,” she argued back but all she was really trying to do was make him take his hand out of her lap. “Thank you, but the damage is done.”

He conceded and placed the napkin on the table and began to mop up what was left around her plate. Once he was satisfied—and the waiter came back to finish the job properly—Tyson covered her hand with his, moving it to rest on top of his own slightly damp knee.

Flick’s watch buzzed and reminded her to breath.

Mat spent the entire dinner looking between Flick and Tyson and trying to get her to react, but everybody else kept sending her concerned looks. Presumably because she barely said another word, even when conversation was directed at her.

Dinner ended with Tyson footing the bill and Flick purposely being the last one to stand up. She hadn’t yet looked at her skirt and the longer she could delay it the better.

“Can I please have the keys?” she asked quietly as Tyson pulled out her chair and stood beside her.

“You don’t want to go out? It’s your birthday.”

“My skirt—my brand new, white skirt—has a huge red wine stain right in my crotch. The only way this could be worse is if it was on the back and looked like I’d been surprised by the heaviest day of my period. Tyson, the only place I want to go is to Summerland.”

He nodded, putting his hand on her lower back and guiding her out the front of the restaurant where the others were waiting.

Cheyenne & Marissa’s faces told her all she needed to know—it looked as bad as she expected.

“I’m going to take Flick back to the house. You guys can do whatever you want—”

“But it’s your birthday,” Tito stressed, interrupting Tyson.

“Anthony, does it really look like I want to hang around in Kelowna looking every bit like the Hurricane I’ve been labelled?”

There was no fight from anyone after that. Flick and Tyson went one direction, the others went the opposite.

Tyson handed her something as he climbed into the driver’s seat, explaining, “I found a pair of shorts you can wear. They’re from the clean bag, so they should be okay.”

Flick unfolded the pair of shorts, didn’t think about why Tyson was carrying around a clean bag of clothes in his car—nor why he had the distinction of a clean bag—and went about taking off her heels as he started to drive.

She shimmied the shorts up her legs and under her skirt, before she took the skirt off and folded it on the floor between her feet.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

One of Tyson’s hands left the steering wheel, and before she knew it, he was holding her hand again and once more resting it against his own knee.

“You’re not usually this upset when you—you know—Hurricane,” he broke the silence some time later.

“It’s my birthday. I wanted to go out and get drunk and just not care about being responsible for one night. But no, within twenty minutes of being seated I spill red wine—expensive red wine, no less—all over myself. And you. I just wanted to not be me for one night, you know? Live a little.”

“I don’t know,” Tyson said, and Flick sighed because of course he didn’t, he was the least self-conscious person she knew. “I don’t know why you would ever want to not be you. You’re fucking amazing.”

“That’s not—”

“It is true. If you were anyone else or if any part of your personality changed, I don’t think I would have had nothing to drink all day just so that I could be the one to drive you to and from Kelowna just to get two hours of time alone with you.”

Flick squeezed his hand, Tyson squeezed back, and tried not to fly out of her seat at the thought of everything he was saying. It mostly led to Flick staring at Tyson with a ridiculous smile on her face the entire drive home, with the occasional giggle escaping.

Back at the house, Tyson led them into the guesthouse, locking the door behind them and smiling at her gently. Her heart fluttered uncontrollably.

“There is something that I want to do,” Tyson said, taking a step forward with a hand out in front of him, in line with her waist. “It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a really long time, and I hope it’s okay.”

“What is it?” She whispered, standing frozen still as he stepped closer to her.

His hand came to rest on her waist, the other brushing against her cheek as he pushed her hair behind her ear. Flick stopped breathing, and in the stillness that followed she swore she could feel Tyson’s heartbeat through his chest.

She giggled, nervously, when his face drew closer to hers—he laughed, too, and Flick dissolved into actual laughter.

“I can’t kiss you if you keep laughing,” he said softly, admiringly.

She shut her mouth firmly and nodded up at him. Only to break half a second later and bury her face in his chest, mumbling, “I’m going to keep laughing if you don’t kiss me.”

Tyson placed his hand on her cheek and guided her face away from his chest, smiling before leaning in and finally kissing her. Soft. Sweet. Everything Flick had ever wanted.

She pressed up into it, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling him closer to her—making sure he never got away.

The door handle jiggled, followed immediately by a bang that indicated someone had walked head first into it.

Flick stilled, even more aware of every part of Tyson’s body that was touching hers. Tyson wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her to him as if he was worried she would run.

“Why the fuck is it locked?” Dante grumbled.

“Tyson, open up!” Mat called out, “Have you seen Flick?!”

Tyson lowered his head, whispered into Flick’s ear, “Don’t make a sound.”

“They’ll go get the key,” she whispered back, glancing between the door and Tyson’s mouth.

He kissed her again before saying, “Security lock; can only be opened from the inside.”

“Oh,” she whispered, her eyes still closed as she chased his mouth with hers. “Okay.”

“Do you… Do you not want this?”

“I—what?” Flick’s eyes flew open, panicked and confused and growing even more so when she saw the hurt expression crossing his face.

“If you don’t want this, you can just say,” he said, kindly. Far kinder than he should have for a man who looked so dejected. “You don’t need to make excuses or anything.”

“I’m—there aren’t any excuses,” she said quickly, tripping over her words and tightening the fists she still had in his shirt.

“Then what’s up?”

Flick hung her head. “It’s embarrassing to say out loud.”

Tyson jostled her, his knees against her thighs and when she looked back up at him, he was smiling at her. Big and genuine.

He said, “Nothing’s embarrassing; you’ve seen all the dumb shit I do. You heard what I told you before.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted, breathlessly. “Worried. That this isn’t… That this isn’t serious for you. That I’m just another girl.”

“If I wasn’t serious about this, I wouldn’t have tried to take you on all those dates.”

The word hung in the air between them. Flick forgot how to breath, yet again.

“Dates?”

“Breakfast, the midnight swim, dinner tonight… I was about ready to strangle everyone.”

The week flashed through Flick’s mind, a montage of time she had spent alone with Tyson… that the others had decided to join in on.

“I ruined almost all of those by inviting someone else.”

“A little bit, yeah.”

“You could have said something.”

“I thought you were trying to let me down gently but then you would flirt with me or look like you were about to kiss me.”

“Communication score out of ten?”

“Awful.”

Flick sighed, cupping Tyson’s cheek as his briefly hopeful expression faded and told him to wait just a second. She reached the door, opened it just a crack and called out to Mat, whose back was turned as he walked away. He, Tito and Dante all turned around but Flick repeated Mat’s name.

He came to the door alone.

“What’re you holed up in there for?”

“You need to make everyone go back to the house and make sure they don’t come back, okay?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Mat. Please.”

“I don’t—oh. Oh!” He checked over his shoulder and then frowned at her, “I don’t think I can get away with not telling them why.”

“It doesn’t matter. You can tell them if you have to.”

“My hair?” He raked his hand through it.

“Safe, Mat. Your hair’s safe.”

“Look at you, all grown up. I’m so proud—”

Flick shut the door on him mid-sentence with a hard goodbye and walked back into Tyson’s outstretched arms.

Please consider leaving feedback - reblog and write in the tags or send an ask, I’m not fussed. I just want to know what you’re thinking!

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 36 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: So I hate to announce it, but the end of Alone, Together is coming.  I’ve planned out 40 chapters to the story, which means it will be ending soon.  Please do not fear – I have planned at least four one-shots for the future, and still might do blurbs of scenes you guys requested I write about since they weren’t included in chapters.  Canon questions are ALWAYS welcome, even when I’m finished writing.  It has been such a wild journey and I cannot wait for you guys to see what is in store for Morgan and Bee in the last chapters and in the future!

“How beautiful is this?!” Bee exclaimed to nobody in particular as she stood atop the first step that descended down on the Capilano Suspension Bridge.  She knew what it looked like because she had Googled it before, so she knew exactly what to expect.  But researching something online and seeing what it looked like was completely different than seeing it in person, and Bee was…flabbergasted.  Overwhelmed.  The beauty that surrounded her on this gorgeous sunny day was unparalleled.  Everything she experienced on the West Coast just kept getting better and better.  The roar of the river flowing beneath the bridge, and the trees – there were so many beautiful trees surrounding the canyon – she just couldn’t get enough.  It was like something out of a fairytale or book; an unpublished Tolkien novel about paradise.  

“Isn’t it, though?” Shirley smiled from ear to ear, seeing Bee’s enthusiasm and excitement about the bridge and the scenery.  “Wait till we actually get on the bridge.  You feel like you’re a bird walking up here!”

“I feel like in a past life I must have been a woodland creature,” Bee said.  “Everything about this is so beautiful.  And I feel so…I don’t know, calm.  Excited, but calm.”

“That’s what a temperate west coast rainforest will do to you,” Andy piped up from behind them, causing them to laugh.  “Ready?”

Bee took one last look upwards, taking in all the trees and foliage, before setting her sights on the bridge in front of her.  She wasn’t too scared of heights, per se, but the logistics of the suspension bridge freaked her out a little bit, and, well, it was a long drop down, regardless of how beautiful everything else was around her.  She hesitated for a moment, mentally preparing herself to take the first steps down, when she felt Morgan’s hands grab at her waist quickly before sliding them over to grab her hand.  He squeezed it gently and appeared at her side.  

“You can do this,” he said gently, nodding his head.  “You want me to go first?”

Bee shook her head.  “Just…let’s go together.”

“Okay.  Let’s go together.”

They both took another step down.  And another.  And another.  Then, slowly, slowly, walking along the bridge.  Bee kept her eyes on her feet the entire time.  She could see the black of her shoes and the brown of the bridge.  She didn’t know how far she’d gone – if she’s gone far at all – and assumed Andy and Shirley had probably already made their way to the other side by now.  

“Look up, Bumblebee,” she heard Morgan’s soft voice.  

When she did, she was greeted with the vast openness of the bridge, the crisp air, the lush greens of the trees, and the rushing blue water of the river beneath them.  A smile crept its way onto her face, slowly, as she took in the sights before her.  “Wow…” she whispered to herself in amazement, trying to internalize the moment.  She looked beside her, to Morgan, already smiling at her.  “Wow.”

“Wow indeed.  You ready to keep going?”

Bee nodded her head.  In the distance, she saw Andy flailing his arms about, trying to get their attention.  Shirley, in front of him, was holding her phone up to take a picture.  “I think your parents might have other plans,” she nodded her head towards them.

Morgan didn’t hesitate.  He wrapped his arms around her body, turning their bodies towards his parents, and rested his chin on the top of her head.  Shirley gave big thumbs up.  Bee was smiling from ear to ear.

***

Bee had never been on such a long bike ride in her life.  She’d taken her fair share of bike rides around Toronto – usually up in the suburbs, in the neighbourhood where Rocco and Clarette lived, since biking on major streets downtown scared the living shit out of her – but this was different.  When she had agreed to go on a bike ride with Morgan in Stanley Park, the famous expansive park in downtown Vancouver, she thought it would be a short ride.  Morgan clearly had other things in mind.  They started their journey at the Stanley Park Lawn Bowling Club, riding along the perimeter of the park before stopping halfway to take pictures near the Lions Gate Bridge.  They then mounted their bikes again, following the paths that went directly through the middle of the park, amongst the hundred year old trees, until they finally reached the Vancouver Seawall, yet another scenic destination, overlooking the Vancouver Harbour and all the tall, glass condo buildings in the West End and Gastown.

It was only then that they truly descended off their bikes – taking photos together, getting strangers to take pictures of them – before they brought their bikes underneath a tree, leaned them against the wide trunk, and laid down on the grass.  “My thighs feel like they’re on fire,” Bee mumbled as she plopped down onto the grass, spreading out her limbs for dramatic effect.  

She heard Morgan chuckle slightly.  “Maybe I can help with that,” he hummed, his hand immediately going to her thigh.

She slapped it away instantly.  “We are in a public God damn park, Morgan Frederick Rielly.  Put your hand away.”

He snorted.  “I was just gonna massage.”

“Sure.”  

“Stop making fun of my primal urges.”

“It’s called public indecency and they will arrest us in this park.”

“They might arrest you for being so hot you’d start a forest fire.��

Bee did the most dramatic eye roll in the history of eye rolls before scoffing at the comment.  Morgan could only laugh at the disgusted face she was making.  “Oh my fucking God, Morgan.  You are literally the absolute worst, you know that?  Like, I’m not even joking.  The worst.”

“You love me.”

“You’re lucky I do or else a comment like that would warrant a 72 hour sex ban for being literally the corniest thing to come out of anyone’s mouth in the history of humanity.”

Morgan pretended to scoff back at her.  “You’re mean when you’re tired!”

“You’re so hot you’d start a forest fire,” she mimicked his deep voice.  “The literal worst,” she laid back down flat on the grass.

“Get over here,” he grumbled playfully, rolling over so he was on his side, propping himself on his elbow as he draped his arm over her.  He leaned his head down slightly to kiss her, and for all her teasing, her dramatic eyerolls and her scoffing at his corny comments, she kissed him back readily.  “I love you,” he mumbled into her lips.

“I love you too.”

He kissed her again.  “Did you enjoy the bike ride?”

She nodded her head.  “This place is beautiful.  You always take me to the coolest and most beautiful places and it makes me never want to leave.  I’m tired and I’m red as a tomato but I could have stayed biking on that path forever.”

“I just want you to see how beautiful it is out here,” he said.  

“Can we build a house along the path we just went on?  Right in the middle of the trees?”

Morgan chuckled slightly as he dipped down, resting his head on her chest.  “You just tell me where, baby, and I’ll build it.”

***

“Morgan.”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think?”

They were on a boat in the middle of the Georgia Strait, watching the sunset again before making their way over to Gibsons to spend the day there.  Both were both already fully clothed, at Morgan’s insistence so they could start the day early – Bee in a sundress and him in his usual slacks and t-shirt – and he had taken it upon himself to cuddle with her again under a blanket as they watched the sunrise from the boat.  Just like last time, except Maggie had to stay home since she probably couldn’t handle an entire day out and about in Gibsons.  The boat ride was going to be tranquil, too.  Just like last time.

Morgan, apparently, had ulterior motives.  

Bee’s breath had hitched in her throat when she first felt Morgan’s hand slip and wiggle its way between her thighs.  His hand stayed dormant for a while, almost as if he had just put it in between her thighs to warm it (the crisp morning air was a bit nippy), but slowly, slowly, his hand kept sliding up, and when he was finally close enough, he began moving her panties out of the way.  That’s when she spoke up.  “Really?  Now?”  

“Always.”

“But what if we get caught?”

“By who?  The people in the other boats?” he asked sarcastically.  It was 5:30am and they were the only boat out for miles.  

Bee’s breath hitched in her throat again as she felt one of his fingers gliding along her lips lightly.  Just as she had planned that little surprise when they were in Kelowna, he had been planning this, apparently.  He knew exactly what he was doing when he told her to get dressed that morning and had made the comment about the sundress being cute and ‘very appropriate’ for the coastal town of Gibsons.  “I seriously don’t know where you get all this energy from.  Not that I’m complaining, cause I’d ride your dick across the Pacific Ocean if I could.”

Morgan smirked.  “I told you that my New Year’s Resolution was to have more sex with you.  I’m not one to break a resolution.”

“You’ve broken your clean eating during the season resolution like, every week since you’ve made it.”

“That’s different.  This is sex with you,” he stressed, causing her to laugh lightly. 

The only problem with Morgan’s surprise was that he wanted to take it slow.  Like, painstakingly slow.  Glacial pace slow.  Geologic time slow.  He teased the lips of her pussy much longer than Bee would have liked, and inserted only one finger after what felt like half an hour.  To make matters worse, he was talking to her and holding a conversation as if he wasn’t fingering her on the Goddamn boat, forcing her to participate instead of relishing in the feeling.  Her mind kept going back and forth – from talking about what book he should read next to the tingle making its way up her spine as he curled his finger in her slowly.  He was teasing her, putting her through psychological warfare, and he knew it, and it was all part of his plan.

She hated him.  But fuck, she loved it.

Another finger slipped in after a while.  As was standard, she found it harder and harder to concentrate on whatever words were coming out of Morgan’s mouth as his fingers moved lazily inside of her – she tried to keep the conversation, she really did, but with each movement and each further tease of his thumb near her clit, she was getting more and more sensitive.  Her body was already flush with heat.  “Morgan.”

“Yeah baby?”

“You’re gonna kill me, you know that?”

“Why?” he asked with fake innocence, at the same time curling his fingers in her, causing her to squeeze her thighs together.

“Really?” she demanded.

“You want me to stop?”

She glared at him.  “If you stop I’m throwing you overboard.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said, a third finger now slipping in so painstakingly slow she gave throwing him overboard a serious thought.  She squirmed slightly, trying to maintain her position but knowing it could change at any moment.  He began placing butterfly kisses on her shoulder, moving up to her neck.  She closed her eyes.  “Feels good?” he asked.

She could only nod her head as she let out a sigh, finally concentrating on the feeling of his three fingers inside of her.  If he was done playing his games, she was done playing them too.  “Your fingers always feel good inside me,” she whispered.

“You remember when we were doing this before Auston’s New Year’s Eve party?” he asked.  She nodded her head again, a smile creeping its way onto her face.  “I could have stayed home that entire night and fucked you senseless if you had let me.”

“I was a bit more naïve back then,” she joked.  “I wanted to make a good impression on your friends.  I thought if we didn’t show up Auston would hate me.”

“Auston could never hate you.”

“At least we got to see him make out with a cupcake.”

Morgan snorted, his nose and lips grazing the skin of her neck as he chuckled.  “Does he know you have that video?”

“No.”

“Keep it that way,” he giggled, biting down on her skin gently.  “And you remember Valentine’s Day?”

Did she remember Valentine’s Day?  What kind of question was that?  The question should have been ‘Do you remember the time I fucked you senseless with my hand four fingers deep in your pussy?’  She found herself nodding her head again as he curled his fingers, causing her to squirm.  “How could I forget?” she asked, an obvious strain in her voice.  

“If I remember correctly, I’m one finger short of how I was fucking you that night,” Morgan said, his voice low.  His thumb finally, finally attached itself to her clit, lazily rubbing circles.  Bee bit down on her lip.  She couldn’t help but try to move her hips so he could go deeper.  “Fuck Bee, you’re desperate aren’t you?”

“You fucking know I’m desperate,” she whispered harshly.  “I’m so fucking hot and so fucking wet and I’m ready to fucking explode, Morgan.”

“Guess I better go slower, then.  Tease you a little more,” he whispered in her ear, removing his thumb from her clit.

“Morgan Frederick Rielly, your fingers have been in my pussy for more than a fucking hour.  If you take any longer I will not be held legally responsible for what I will do to you.”

Morgan chuckled.  A low, hearty chuckle as he bit down on the skin of her neck again.  She wondered if he was leaving marks.  “All you have to do is say the magic words, baby,” his voice was so achingly sweet.

“I want to cum, Morgan.”

“Those aren’t the magic words,” his thumb grazed her clit teasingly.

She took a deep breath.  He was really going to make her do this on a fucking boat in the middle of the Strait of Georgia at 6:45 in the morning.  “I want to cum, Mr. Rielly.”

“That’s a good girl,” he said, his thumb finally beginning to rub circles again, all three of his fingers curling inside of her, causing her to squirm.  He continued his movements at a steady pace – nothing too fast or slow – and could feel her wetness building and her body getting more and more heated.  

Morgan saw the moment she closed her eyes, unable to take it anymore.  They were both silent as her orgasm tore through her entire body, powerful and long, leaving her body shaking and squirming for a while.  Morgan didn’t stop – really, did he ever? – until her hand reached in between her thighs to grab his.  His fingers left her pussy, and she watched through hooded eyes as he brought them to his mouth and sucked on them, tasting her juices.  

“Are you hard?” she asked quickly.

“Yeah.”

“Let me sit on your cock, Morgan.”

He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants quickly, shoving them half way down his legs as he saw Bee stand and bunch up the skirt of her dress around her hips.  She moved to stand in between his knees, facing away from him as she lowered herself onto his lap.  He moved her panties with one hand and grabbed his cock with the other, guiding it into her, and she began bouncing up and down in no time, her hands leaving her dress and squeezing onto his thighs, her nails digging into his skin.  

For all his teasing of her, he knew he wouldn’t last long like this.  Bee bouncing on his cock was probably his favourite view – never mind that beyond her was one of the most beautiful sunrises, with some of the most beautiful scenery in the world.  He could watch his cock disappear into her pussy all day.

“You’re lucky I’m not as big a tease as you are,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder to look back at him.  

“I don’t know about that,” he grunted, his hands going underneath the fabric of her dress to grab her ass.  “You existing is a tease to me.”

“Cheeky.”

“I see something else that’s cheeky.”

She smacked his thigh playfully.  “I love you, Morgan.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Are you close?”

He nodded his head.  “I want you to cum again too, baby.  With me.”

She nodded her head, turning back around.  After a few more minutes, he felt her walls clench around his cock again, and she cried out his name.  He steadied her bouncing as he came inside of her, never ever getting tired of the feeling of filling her up.  She leaned back into his chest, his cock slipping out of her as he wrapped his arm around her.  They were both breathing heavily as they came down from their highs, Morgan peppering Bee’s shoulder and neck with light kisses.

“I love you,” Bee repeated her earlier sentiments.  “So damn much.  You have no idea.”

“I love you too, Bumblebee.  More than anything.”

***

“Out of all the amazing restaurants downtown…I have to say, the backyard of the Rielly house is my favourite place to eat,” Bee said, leaning back in her chair as she swallowed the last bit of perfectly grilled filet mignon.  She turned her head to look at Morgan sitting beside her, smiling.  “That filet was great.”

“I thought it was a bit salty,” Connor joked, garnering a sneer from Morgan and a laugh from Bee.  “Whoever seasoned the vegetables did a much better job.”

“You’re just saying that so mom will slice you a bigger piece of cheesecake,” Morgan snarled.  “Don’t fall for it, mum.  That steak was grilled perfectly medium rare.”

“Oh alright you two,” Shirley waved off her quarrelling boys.  “You’re both getting a big fat slice of cheesecake.  No need to butter me up about it.”

“Reminds me of the time you boys were fighting over who was giving the homeless people at the shelter bigger portions of turkey for Thanksgiving,” Andy quipped.  “Everything was always a competition with you two when you were younger.  How old were you boys?”

“I was twelve,” Morgan remembered.  “It was two years before I left for Notre Dame.”

“Yeah, I was in my first year of high school,” Connor nodded his head before focusing his attention back on his brother.  “Have the Leafs kept doing that Covenant House volunteering for the holidays?”

“Every year,” Morgan nodded his head.  

“Have you joined in?” Andy asked.

“Of course.”

“I’d like to get in on that next time…if I can,” Bee piped up.  “I used to be on the receiving end of that sort of stuff.  It’d be nice to give back.”

Morgan gave her a look.  He wasn’t exactly shocked that she’d want to do volunteer work – this was Bee, after all – but to him, her tone sounded like she had been waiting to say this for a very long time.  “Really?”

Bee looked at Morgan as if it was the most obvious choice in the world.  “It’s been almost a year now.  I think it’s about time.”

“You must have discussed it with some of the other girls, then,” Shirley offered.

“I’ve actually discussed this with Aryne Tavares,” Bee said.  “We’ve talked about it a lot, actually.  She did a lot of charity work down in Long Island and she’s been continuing it in Toronto, and I think it’s time for me to start too.  I’m actually going with her to Sick Kids when we get back to Toronto, but I’m thinking there’s other stuff I can do, too.”

Morgan should have known she had already started this discussion with Aryne.  “That’s great news, Bee,” Shirley smiled.  “What were you thinking?”

“Well the Leafs have always had a relationship with Sick Kids Hospital – I know Morgan goes there a lot too, has been there a lot, so that’s one,” she began.  “Since we got Brucey from the Humane Society I thought of maybe doing something with them…like, promoting adoption drives and stuff like that.  Literacy programs too – going into elementary schools and promoting reading to kids,” she continued.  Morgan could tell her tone was getting more nervous the more she spoke.  “And…um, Aryne and I have been talking, and I think, uh, it’s really good, cause, well, it’s really important to me that, uh…I get involved in something like Alateen.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, everybody around the table digesting what Bee just revealed to them.  Morgan barely blinked.  Connor was nodding his head slowly.  Andy and Shirley looked like they were still listening intently – like they hadn’t processed the information yet.  It was only until Andy spoke up that Bee felt the weight lift off her shoulders.  “That’s very honourable of you, Briony.”

“I haven’t um, looked into it yet or anything.  It’s just a very basic idea,” Bee felt the need to explain herself.  “It’s just that, you know, I could have used a mentor growing up in that situation.  Somebody to sort of guide me through.  Not somebody to tell me that everything was going to be okay, because I knew things weren’t going to be okay, but at least somebody to speak to.  And I think of all the kids – all the teens – who are going through what I went through, and it just feels right to try to help them.  Nobody really…I didn’t know these resources existed growing up – mostly because I lied to my teachers, because I’m sure they would have told me – but I just think that I could…you know…provide some insight.  Some help.  However I can.”

She felt Morgan grab her hand underneath the table and squeeze it tightly.  Connor was nodding his head approvingly now, as were Andy and Shirley.  “That’s fantastic Bee.  You’d be great at that,” Shirley said.  “You have built such a successful life for yourself, and you can be a real role model for those kids.  They’ll be able to see someone who powered through, who survived, who got an education and is working and is making a success out of herself.”

“Yeah,” Bee nodded her head.  “Um, I know I’m gonna need to clear it.  I know it’s a very touchy subject for a lot of people and I don’t know if it’ll get approved or whatever, but it’s something I’d like to do.  If not now, in the future.  And if I can’t do it with the Lady Leafs, then maybe through Scotiabank.  Or on my own.  I don’t know.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Andy affirmed, swirling the remainder of his wine around in his glass.  “I think you were meant for something like that.”

***

Andy and Shirley didn’t have rules this time – however imposed or unimposed they were the first time around in January – so Bee and Morgan slept in the same bed, his bed, that night after dinner.  They were spooning – on their sides cradled into one another, Morgan’s arm draped over Bee and Bee’s legs curled into his – just enjoying each other’s warmth.  The sun had set long ago but the light from the moon illuminated the room slightly.

They were staring into each other’s eyes.  They had been since they lay down together.  Morgan initiated it and had barely stopped.  Bee could only indulge him.  

“You’re the strongest girl in the world, you know that?” he whispered, his voice low and soft.  “After all you’ve been through, after all you’ve had to overcome, you’re still willing to talk about your experience.  I don’t know if I’d be able to do something like that.”

“It’s never something I’ve backed away from.  You know that,” she said in an equally soft voice.  “I told you from the get go.  I’m not ashamed.”

“I’m just scared,” he admitted.

“About what?”

“Any scrutiny you’ll get for talking about your past and what you’ve been able to overcome.  I’ve told you how harsh the media can be.  You’ve seen how harsh the media can be.  But it’s not even…it’s the DMs.  You know how nasty they can be and those girls can be fucking crazy.  We still haven’t solved the DM issue enough for me to be confident that you’re…you know, safe.”

Bee brought her hand up, cupping his face.  “Whatever scrutiny I’ll get will be from low-lives,” she began.  “Who would go after a girl for trying to help children with alcoholic parents or relatives?  You’d have to be a special kind of dumbass, to be quite honest.”

“I know, but--”

“Besides,” she interrupted him.  “I’m a big girl.  I can handle it.  This is going to do way more good than harm because I’m not ashamed of where I came from.  Even if I just help one person, Morgan, it’s worth it.  It’s worth it to me.”

[dearkaelsman]

I know that a lot of people (both CE and especially non CE and non Gundam passerbys) are probably looking at our ranting and wondering why we hate this redub. And like... I just want to make it clear, especially to potential new watchers that may think we’re nuts for having issue with the dub, we’re not angry with it just to be mean or spiteful. We’re disappointed. Ocean’s dub wasn’t god tier, but it meant a lot to western fans like us, and instead of polishing it, it rolled around in mud.

//THIS.

For me, SEED - in its original English dub glory - is why I was friends with the people I was in high school. It’s why I’m friends with the people I am now. It was the anime that first caused me to look up the voices behind characters, and the show that facilitated my learning about anime conventions, and the realm of RPing.

It (as well as discovering how much I enjoyed shooting hockey) heavily influenced why I went into photojournalism.

So the announcement of the re-dub, and now hearing it, kind of felt like a personal attack on my teenage self, given the show is really close to my heart. It sounds silly, but in a lot of ways it has contributed and been part of a foundation of the person I have become.

I know those of us expressing being upset about the re-dub/reflub aren’t attacking for the sake of being mean to the new cast, or out of spite. The actors involved have done a lot of good work on other projects, especially video games - I really enjoy Max Mittelman (redub Kira) as Ryuji in P5 and he’s probably my favourite character. I like Cassandra Lee Morris (redub Miriallia) as Morgana. Having met some of these voice actors, I can say I really like them personally, and love that we’re in an era where they can communicate with fans and show that they, too, are fans of the shows they work on, and I respect them for that.

I can respect that the original SEED dub may only be available in final mix form, and couldn’t be adjusted for the HD Remaster. I understand there are bidding processes, and the distribution company, Nozomi, that bought the rights to distribute the remaster, made the choice to go about redubbing it the way they did, likely because there is some legislation in place where “American” projects must have “American products” used (this caused some animosity between then-Prime Minister Stephen Harper and then-President Barack Obama on a port project in B.C. that an American company was awarded the contract for. Obama would not allow Canadian materials or workers on the project, despite it taking place in Canada and it was all really messed up because of bureaucratic red tape).

I am, however, deeply disappointed that the product we’re getting for SEED, as you said, isn’t an improvement to the original, or polishing, it’s a complete bastardization of the original, and there’s no excuse for it.

SEED is not a simulcast. They recorded this project in 2017, weeks after they announced the re-dub cast. They’ve had over two years with this, so with them casting “big name” L.A. -based voice actors, it makes it look like they defaulted to the simulcast process, and were lazy with the project and didn’t put a lot of effort into the casting, the research of the show, or the show itself.

I’m hugely disappointed that the director chosen has a penchant for not doing research or understanding what she’s involved with as a voice actor, and was given SEED to work on for her directorial debut. I hoped she  would prove me wrong and that she’d take extra care with the project as director, but from what I’ve seen so far, she hasn’t.

She still has yet to acknowledge the original Ocean dub. The American “main” DBZ cast has NEVER shied away from acknowledging there was a Canadian dub. Kyle Hebert even credited Brad Swaile’s Gohan as being the first Gohan he ever heard, and that he incorporated some of his mannerisms into his performance.

Carrie Keranen (and granted, I haven’t checked since they were recording the project because she is the one Voice Actor I actually have a personal problem with so her Twitter makes me very upset) has flagrantly dismissed what was in that original dub, and why? Given how other redub projects have gone, it makes it look like she either wants to ignore the fact it exists as to not give it publicity, or looks down on it, and thought she could do better without putting the work into it that she should have.

She allowed script changes that ruined the integrity of the characters - allowing someone to portray Miriallia as a 10-year-old boy and say “fricken” like she actually is a 10 year old punk kid, modernizing Cagalli (she’s a princess, she shouldn’t talk entirely like a preteen girl at the mall, even if she had a penchant for running away), and stripping Kira of his attitude to be more...bland? In all honestly, she enabled a lack of effort and emotion in the scenes they’ve posted thus far.

She allowed liberties to be taken on the English language that were not taken in the original with no good explanation. This is seen in the pronunciation of Nicol, Tolle, Dearka’s names, the weird emphasis on Archangel, Gammow.

I’m deeply disappointed that she allowed/changed Dearka’s name to a racial slur, even if it’s one that only “white people” would consider a slur. Rather than being sensitive to how a choice of words can affect those around us, this decision actually perpetuates racism against Middle Eastern people, as if there’s not enough of that already. It also creates a divide between the longtime die-hard fans of Gundam SEED, and the new ones with pronunciation (and this has happened with other redub projects where fans have been lectured the “new” way is the “right” way to say things even when it’s not), ESPECIALLY if a movie comes out now, which will make officially make her cast the “main” English cast, and everything the old cast did will essentially be erased from the collective fandom mind.

As a Canadian, I’m also disappointed at what redubbing one of the larger anime projects to come through Ocean/Vancouver means for the voice industry here.I’m hugely concerned, and I have been for some time for my favourite voice actors, and it’s easier to express this concern with regards to a specific project, than just in general.

It’s hard to know that B.C. is becoming the “Silicon Valley of the North,” and animation studios here are doing exceptional work (Into the SpiderVerse was done in Vancouver, The Dragon Prince is animated in Vancouver/Kelowna, the new Magic the Gathering series will be animated by the same studio, they’ve done a ton of work for Disney, Cartoon Network, DreamWorks etc.), and yet our voice actors are being forced to move, take up side jobs/new careers, when they should be voicing those projects, in favour of L.A. based dubbers who sadly don’t seem to put the effort into their projects that B.C. was able to.

They had an opportunity to make the redub decent, and they squandered it, and they’re really overselling the idea that in a digital age people weren’t already aware of SEED. The only people who will watching it “fresh” now are the type that are obsessive about specific voice actors and would worship the ground they walked on, rather than really enjoy a show for the show’s own merit.

And given what they’re doing to it in this dub, they’re going to actually make more people hate the series than already do.

[fleetwooded]

@1000-directions tagged me to describe myself with 10 photos from my camera roll! in order:

- harry styles words of wisdom on signposts in LA, a city i fell unexpectedly in love with this year

- jon lovett with baby doodle pundit

- me by lake okanagan on an annual kelowna trip

- monster, my favourite dog in the world, at the office, one of my favourite places in the world

- buying carrots at the farmer’s market i’ve been a patron of every summer pretty much since i learned to walk

- me and two of my roommates/best friends in front of the east van cross (absolutely plastered in the middle of the day at the end of a brewery tour)

- the pacific ocean at my favourite beach and at my favourite time of day when the dusk light makes everything look golden

- my sister/best friend eating strawberries on a road trip (not pictured: abba blasting from the car speakers)

- orville peck recording pony at a studio on gabriola island

- love letters exchanged by virginia woolf and vita sackville-west

tagging @hitchfender @dinoflangellate @coldbam @ferryboatpeak to do this if you want!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Pluralistic: 05 Mar 2020 (New Pinkwater, RIP Jim Tyre, Right to Repair and covid, Radicalized is a bestseller, African Whatsapp modders)

Today's links

Daniel Pinkwater wrote a new novel! Yippee for "ADVENTURES OF A DWERGISH GIRL!"

Warner Chappel discoved a new form of copyright fuckery so dense it blew a wormhole into another dimension: From the people who fraudulently claimed to own "Happy Birthday" for decades.

RIP, Jim Tyre: The free internet just lost one of its most dedicated defenders.

Decentralizing the web is a human problem: The web needs stewards, not owners.

Right to Repair is the right to resilience: Independent repair is how we keep things going during emergencies.

Keyless car fobs can be defeated with a cheap RFID cloner: Car manufacturers wontfix a showstopper bug. Again.

Bookstores, libraries, human thriving and mental health: Books are great, even if the science behind their greatness is thin.

Copyright experts' panel on fair use removed from Youtube: A strange game. The only winning move is not to play. How about a nice game of chess?

Radicalized is out in paperback: Just hit every one of Canada's national bestseller lists, too!

African Whatsapp modders are outcompeting Facebook: Adversarial Interoperability is how you beat digital colonialism.

This day in history: 2015, 2019

Colophon: Recent publications, current writing projects, upcoming appearances, current reading

I'm coming to Kelowna, BC today! I'll be at the library from 6-8PM with my book Radicalized for the CBC's Canada Reads. It's free, but you need to RSVP (and most of the seats are gone, so act quick).

https://www.eventbrite.ca/e/cbc-radio-presents-in-conversation-with-cory-doctorow-tickets-96154415445

Daniel Pinkwater wrote a new novel! (permalink)

Well, this is amazing news. Daniel Pinkwater has a new middle grades novel coming out in September: ADVENTURES OF A DWERGISH GIRL!

https://tachyonpublications.com/bestselling-author-daniel-pinkwater-returns-in-classic-form-with-the-illustrated-middle-grade-adventures-of-a-dwergish-girl/

Molly O'Malley is a clever, adventurous girl. She is also a Dwerg. Dwergs are strange folks who live very quietly in the Catskill mountains, have lots of gold, and are kind of like dwarves (but also not!).

Molly isn't interested in cooking and weaving, as she is expected to be. So, she sets off to see the world for herself. Which means a new job, a trip to New York City, prowling gangsters, an adorable king, a city witch, and many historical ghosts. More importantly, it means excellent pizza, new friends, and very quick thinking.

Now someone is pursuing the Dwergs for their gold. Can Molly O'Malley save the day?

IOW: this is a book with every single thing I love about Pinkwater novels. Reading Daniel Pinkwater – as a kid and as an adult – was hugely important to my development as a writer and a human being. Meeting another Pinkwater fan is always a sign that you are among good people.

Warner Chappel discoved a new form of copyright fuckery so dense it blew a wormhole into another dimension (permalink)

I've seen some next-level copyfraud fuckery in my day, believe me, but Adam Neely's tale of Warner Chappell's copyfraud reaches a new height of absurdity.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KM6X2MEl7R8

This is sleazy even by Warner Chappell standards, and they're the crooks who fraudulently claimed ownership over Happy Birthday for decades.

https://vimeo.com/172715640

Buckle up for this one, as it is an onion of bizarre, bad-faith corporate behavior, with each layer peeling back to reveal another, even weirder and more terrible one. It starts with a garbage lawsuit against Katy Perry for including a piece of background music in her song Dark Horse that was similar to another very generic lick in an obscure Christian rap song called "A Joyful Noise."

No one claimed that Katy Perry lifted the brief snatch of music from Joyful Noise. Rather, the case turned on the precedent set when Martin Gaye's heirs sued Robin Thicke over "Blurred Lines," arguing that the song had a similar vibe to Gaye's. Gaye's heirs should not have won that suit. But they did. And it opened the floodgates to nuisance suits targeting the likes of Perry and her publisher, Warner-Chappell. They lost the suit and got hit for $2.8m.

This isn't even the fuckery part, by the way.

Enter Adam Neely, who created a massively successful viral video defending Warner Chappell and Katy Perry, arguing that the suit was garbage. The video was so successful he went on national media to discuss the case and was even asked to sign onto an amicus brief.

Let the fuckery begin:

Warner Chappell has claimed copyright over Neely's video, claiming that a few seconds of music that he used was the "melody" of Katy Perry's song.

Further fuckery:

In the case, Warner Chappell argued that this specific musical phrase was not the melody, and was rather some incidental background sound.

Fuckery extreme:

The Warner Chappell claim was not automated. A human manually claimed this phrase of music as Warner-Chappell's, despite:

a) Them having disclaimed ownership of it in a lawsuit,

b) Losing that suit and being told by a court that it wasn't theirs.

Fuckery to the max!

But the musical phrase they claimed ownership over was from "A Joyful Noise," the song they lost two point eight million dollars over, having claimed that their song was not confusingly similar to it.

The two musical phrases – the one from "Dark Horse" and the one from "Joyful Noise" – were so similar that Warner-Chappell's own copyright enforcers mistakenly claimed copyright over the wrong one!

2020 folks. Don't forget to tip your servers, they work hard.

RIP, Jim Tyre (permalink)

My old EFF comrade Jim Tyre just died.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/03/rip-eff-special-counsel-jim-tyre

Jim was a tireless civil liberties litigator, a titan of First Amendment law whose entree to tech law was defending people who criticized censorware companies who wildly overblocked what schoolkids could see. He was also incredibly garrulous, funny, a born raconteur whose encylopedic memory served him well both as a storyteller and a litigator.

Jim worked on the 2600 DMCA case, he defended Ed Felten when he was threatened by the RIAA, he fought ICANN, and he was key to our longrunning suit against NSA over mass surveillance.

Jim always worked offsite. He lived in LA and had eye problems that rendered him nearly completely blind. But he kept a stash of cash at the EFF offices so he could contribute to every whip-round for a baby gift or a wedding present.

He was a true mensch.

Decentralizing the web is a human problem (permalink)

My old EFF colleague Mai Sutton just published a smashing primer on competition, interoperability, and stewardship and the world of tech:

https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20200228/22053744006/defeating-tech-giants-with-open-protocols-interoperability-shared-stewardship.shtm

After delivering a good backgrounder on the history of the wars between shared protocols and proprietary technologies, Mai delves into the thicket of laws that have cropped up to prevent technologists from adding interoperability to existing technologies.

This has led to a new online enclosure, with "Google" becoming synonymous with "search" and "Facebook" synonymous with "social media." These businesses once competed, but today, they preside alone, over protected territory.

But some of that is changing. Between legislative proposals, new standardization efforts, the Decentralized Web movement and its protocols, and a reinvigorated threat of antitrust enforcement, there's some hope that the web will reopen and redecentralize.

Ultimately, Mai writes, this has more to do with how we view the web than how we use it. If we think of the online world as a shared space for humanity then the technologists who keep it running are stewards, not owners.

(Image: Dietrich Ayala (https://hacks.mozilla.org/2018/07/introducing-the-d-web/) and Open Clip Art (https://openclipart.org/)

Right to Repair is the right to resilience (permalink)

Writing in Wired, Kyle Wiens makes the crucial link between the Right To Repair and resilience, especially during moments of disruption to global supply chains.

https://www.wired.com/story/opinion-the-right-to-repair-will-help-us-endure-outbreaks/

It's no coincidence that farms and farmers have been leaders in Right to Repair: when you're isolated and you're not allowed to fix your stuff, it means that you can neither nip down to the shops for a replacement, nor easily have an authorized repair tech come to your place.

Covid can put everyone – even entire nations – into the position of that isolated farmer. As Long Beach port is denuded of shipping containers, as air- and rail-links are broken between parts of the country, the stream of parts, replacement units and technicians stops.

A key principle of resilience is to put resources at the edge, replacing hub-and-spoke models with point-to-point, peer-to-peer ones that infuse the system with redundancy. Neoliberalism hates redundancy and equates it with wastefulness.

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1228326004508151808

But redundancy is the key to graceful failure-modes. Limiting repairs to authorized service centers works well (reliable, and certainly great for shareholders), but it fails very, very badly. Right to Repair is how our hospitals, schools, infrastructure maintenance, first responder and other vital services will keep the lights on if things go horribly wrong. Resiliency may be bad for shareholder value, but it's vital to human survival.

Keyless car fobs can be defeated with a cheap RFID cloner (permalink)

Toyota, Hyundai and Kia keyless ignition fobs can be cloned by attackers who get within a few inches of your pocket (say, at a conference), thanks to implementation errors that the auto-makers made with their Texas Instruments DST80 security systems.

https://www.wired.com/story/hackers-can-clone-millions-of-toyota-hyundai-kia-keys/

All you need is a Proxmark RFID scanner, which retails for about $300. That's more than the range-extenders used to steal cars from out front of targets' homes, but unlike those attackers, fob-cloners can start and stop the car as often as they like.

https://hackerwarehouse.com/product/proxmark3-rdv4-kit/

The researchers who did this work come from KU Leuven and the University of Birmingham. Their paper is great:

https://tches.iacr.org/index.php/TCHES/article/view/8546/8111

The attack on its own does not let you start the cars. All it does is disable the immobilizer that stopped people from hot-wiring the ignition system with a screwdriver.

"You're downgrading the security to what it was in the '80s." -Flavio Garcia, University of Birmingham.

The implementation mistakes by the car companies are embarrassingly basic. Kia and Hyundai's implementation only has 24 bits of randomness ("a couple milliseconds with a laptop"). Toyota uses a serial number as a seed, then transmits that serial number in the clear. The companies, naturally, are saying it's no biggie. Toyota claims the attack requires "a highly specialized device that is not commonly available on the market." This just isn't true. I found it with literally one search.

None of the vendors have offered to fix the problem for drivers who bring their cars to garages.

It's depressing, but at least now you know whether you can trust your car's security.

"It's better to be in a place where we know what kind of security we're getting from our security devices. Otherwise, only the criminals know." -Flavio Garcia.

Bookstores, libraries, human thriving and mental health (permalink)

I love Lydia Smith's hymn to the mental health benefits of books, libraries and reading (even if I think the science is less than convincing)

https://www.opendemocracy.net/en/transformation/how-books-and-bookshops-improve-our-mental-health-and-why-we-must-protect-them/

Reading fiction definitely stretches your empathy. For a novel to work, you have to be invested in the lives of people who don't even exist. The death of the yogurt you digested with breakfast this morning is technically more tragic than the deaths of Romeo and Juliet. The yogurt was really alive and now it's really dead. Romeo and Juliet neither lived nor died. Fiction reading is varsity-level empathy!

I agree that the traditional fiction arc – adversity met and overcome – can lighten a dark day. I turn to Kim Stanley Robinson's "Pacific Edge" whenever I'm blue for that reason. I even played a small role in getting adapted for DRM-free audio.

https://boingboing.net/2015/01/15/audio-edition-of-pacific-edge.html

(Pacific Edge was just reissued as a "Tor Essential" in an omnibus with the other two "Californias" novels, sporting a fabulous intro by Francis Spufford. Run, don't walk!)

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250307569

It's also utterly true that books are a path to resilience and self-reliance, filled as they can be with how-tos, analysis and technical knowledge. As the Whole Earth Catalogues used to have it, "Access to tools and ideas."

(It must be said that the net is infinitely better at this than print books, provided you can get online. The use of a time-transported town library to jumpstart post-industrial civilization during the 30 Years War in Eric Flint's 1632 is delightful)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1632_(novel)

Libraries, of course, are the last place in our civilization where you are welcomed because you are a human being, not because you are an ambulatory wallet. Librarians, resist the urge to call people "customers." They're "patrons." That's far more dignified (and accurate).

And working in a bookstore is certainly therapeutic, for certain values of therapy. It can be a grind, but OMG is it ever great connecting people with books that you love and watching them fall in love, too. Generally I'm in accord with the essay. I just don't think the studies cited are of very high quality and/or recency.

It's OK to say, "I love bookstores and libraries because they're fabulous" without having to provide evidence for that fabulousness.

Copyright experts' panel on fair use removed from Youtube (permalink)

NYU law school's Engelberg Center on Innovation Law & Policy held a symposium on copyright and the net with a panel on "when one song infringes the copyright of another and to prove if the accused song is 'substantially similar' enough to be illegal."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UVQTz65Bq70

The video of the panel was taken down from Youtube after multiple copyright complaints from rightsholders who claimed that the brief clips, chosen by America's leading copyright experts as being fair use, were infringing.

https://www.law.nyu.edu/centers/engelberg/news/2020-03-04-youtube-takedown

These clips weren't just fair use; they'd been chosen by top legal scholars to illustrate what fair use was.

The rightsholder reps who issued the takedown claims for these videos did so manually – that is, these complaints were not automatically generated.

In the grand tradition of copyfraud fuckery, when the law professors appealed, the rights enforcement dimbulbs (trained on xeroxed procedures in three-ring binders) reasserted their claims, putting the law school at risk of losing its Youtube account.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/05/warner-chappell-copyfraud#warnerchappell

The law profs knew they had the law on their side, but they weren't ready to appeal, because if they lost their appeal, they'd get a Youtube "copystrike," which could also cost them their accounts. And since there were multiple claims, they weren't sure if they'd get multiple strikes by appealing. Youtube's docs don't make this clear, and going through Youtube channels yielded nothing but radio silence.

Now, these are eminent law professors at a top university, so they were able to make some insider calls to Youtube, who lifted the complaints altogether and reinstated the video. But no one ever clarified the multiple-claims/multiple copystrike procedure.

Moral: When it comes to Youtube, it doesn't matter if you're a nationally recognized copyright expert. You can't argue with anonymous, hamfisted rights-enforcer assholes to assert your speech rights. The only way to guarantee those rights is to know someone on the inside.

Radicalized is out in paperback (permalink)

My book Radicalized, a collection of four science fiction novellas, just came out in paperback!

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250229250

It's quite a week for the book! It's a finalist for Canada Reads, one of Canada's national book prizes, and the paperback immediately hit all of Canada's national bestseller lists!

I'm especially delighted to make the indie stores' bestseller list:

https://www.cbc.ca/books/the-bestselling-canadian-books-for-the-week-of-feb-23-29-2020-1.5484366

It's headlining the Toronto Star's list:

https://www.thestar.com/entertainment/books/2020/03/04/toronto-star-bestsellers-for-the-week-ending-march-4-2020.html

And there's one more national bestseller list that it's hit, but I can't name it until later this week, when it's published. But yeah, it's a hell of a week!

African Whatsapp modders are outcompeting Facebook (permalink)

Whatsapp is more popular than Facebook in Africa – but unauthorized, souped-up, third-party mods of Whatsapp are more popular still.

https://qz.com/africa/1804859/fake-whatsapp-app-more-popular-than-facebook-instagram-in-africa/

African software developers have modified the Whatsapp app to make it suitable to local users. The mods are transmitted from person to person, and sideloaded onto mobile devices.

The king of mods is GB Whatsapp, which allows for multiple accounts on a single device, ups file-transmissions from 16MB to 50MB, and includes privacy features like masking when you're online. GB Whatapp alone has more African users than the Facebook app.

All these mods communicate with users of the stock Whatapp system and with each other. They're tremendous examples of #AdversarialInteroperability, where hackers give users better, situation-appropriate tools without asking an incumbent's permission.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

They really cleanly illustrate how Adversarial Interop defeats network effects by using it against incumbents. The fact that Whatsapp is the most popular app in Africa is an ADVANTAGE for Whatapp modders: they get to treat every Whatsapp user as a potential customer. These mods also show how Adversarial Interop is key to technological self-determination. Rather than meekly submitting to digital colonialism, modders ignore the choices and preferences of a massive US firm and its shareholders and deliver local solutions for local people.

Facebook's response is predictable. Mods violate our terms of service. Modders are crooks. Users caught using mods face bans.

Modders just tell their users to sign up with secondary phone numbers to avoid bans.

Colonial American industry enjoyed a huge advantage over UK rivals because it disregarded UK patents and copyrights, allowing American firms to leapfrog the former colonial masters. Now that it is a net exporter of tech, it expects foreign countries to respect its rules.

This day in history (permalink)

#5yrsago Justice Department issues "scorching" report on Ferguson's Police Department https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2015/03/ferguson-cops-routinely-block-public-from-filming-them-doj-says/

#5yrsago Matt Haughey retires from Metafilter https://metatalk.metafilter.com/23626/Sixteen-Years

#1yrago The NSA has reportedly stopped data-mining Americans' phone and SMS records https://www.nytimes.com/2019/03/04/us/politics/nsa-phone-records-program-shut-down.html

#1yrago Jibo the social robot announces that its VC overlords have remote-killswitched it, makes pathetic farewell address and dances a final step https://www.theverge.com/circuitbreaker/2019/3/4/18250104/jibo-social-robot-server-shutdown-offline-dead

#1yrago BATHDOOM: A Doom level based on a terrible bathroom remodel https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/eveknn/the-hot-new-doom-mod-is-a-nightmare-diy-bathroom-renovation-bathdoom

#1yrago The People's Republic of Walmart: how late-stage capitalism gives way to early-stage fully automated luxury communism https://boingboing.net/2019/03/05/walmart-without-capitalism.html

#1yrago History is made: petition opposing the EU's #Article13 internet censorship plan draws more signatures than any petition in EU history https://www.change.org/p/european-parliament-stop-the-censorship-machinery-save-the-internet

#1yrago London councils plan to slash benefit payments with an "anti-fraud" system known to have a 20% failure rate https://news.sky.com/story/thousands-face-incorrect-benefit-cuts-from-automated-fraud-detector-11651031

#1yrago America is not "polarized": it's a land where a small minority tyrannize the supermajority https://www.nytimes.com/2019/03/05/opinion/oppression-majority.html

Colophon (permalink)

Today's top sources: Carl Sondrol (https://twitter.com/sondrol), Naked Capitalism (https://nakedcapitalism.com/), JWZ (https://www.jwz.org/blog/), Danny O'Brien (oblomovka.com/)

Hugo nominators! My story "Unauthorized Bread" is eligible in the Novella category and you can read it free on Ars Technica: https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/

Upcoming appearances:

Canada Reads Kelowna: March 5, 6PM, Kelowna Library, 1380 Ellis Street, with CBC's Sarah Penton https://www.eventbrite.ca/e/cbc-radio-presents-in-conversation-with-cory-doctorow-tickets-96154415445

Currently writing: I just finished a short story, "The Canadian Miracle," for MIT Tech Review. It's a story set in the world of my next novel, "The Lost Cause," a post-GND novel about truth and reconciliation. I'm getting geared up to start work on the novel now, though the timing is going to depend on another pending commission (I've been solicited by an NGO) to write a short story set in the world's prehistory.

Currently reading: Just started Lauren Beukes's forthcoming Afterland: it's Y the Last Man plus plus, and two chapters in, it's amazeballs. Last month, I finished Andrea Bernstein's "American Oligarchs"; it's a magnificent history of the Kushner and Trump families, showing how they cheated, stole and lied their way into power. I'm getting really into Anna Weiner's memoir about tech, "Uncanny Valley." I just loaded Matt Stoller's "Goliath" onto my underwater MP3 player and I'm listening to it as I swim laps.

Latest podcast: Disasters Don't Have to End in Dystopias: https://craphound.com/podcast/2020/03/01/disasters-dont-have-to-end-in-dystopias/

Upcoming books: "Poesy the Monster Slayer" (Jul 2020), a picture book about monsters, bedtime, gender, and kicking ass. Pre-order here: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781626723627?utm_source=socialmedia&utm_medium=socialpost&utm_term=na-poesycorypreorder&utm_content=na-preorder-buynow&utm_campaign=9781626723627

(we're having a launch for it in Burbank on July 11 at Dark Delicacies and you can get me AND Poesy to sign it and Dark Del will ship it to the monster kids in your life in time for the release date).

"Attack Surface": The third Little Brother book, Oct 20, 2020.

"Little Brother/Homeland": A reissue omnibus edition with a very special, s00per s33kr1t intro.

[holidaywishes]

I Just Wanted You

Summary: You and Jamie used to be High School sweethearts before he got drafted. Now it’s nearly 10 years later when you finally see him again and you can’t believe you ever let him go

Warnings: none? more angst than I intended, a tiny little bit of fluff.

Author’s Note: I literally have no idea where this came from. I was going to write the next part in my Gally series or my Freddie series but then... Jamie Benn happened.

masterlist

  The last time you saw Jamie, your heart broke. He had just been drafted to Dallas and asked you to go with him but you said no. The idea of giving up any possibility of your own future just to follow him around as he became something amazing seemed like a selfish request on his part. No matter how much you loved him. So you said no and he said you were over; and your heart broke into a million pieces. Naturally, when your best friend told you that she was getting married to a man who worked in Dallas, you knew the Bachelorette Party was going to be there.

   “Think about it!” Claire exclaimed, “if we have it there, then we can literally just crash at Sam’s place -- which will soon be my place too. AND WE WON’T HAVE TO PAY FOR ANYTHING!”

  “You wouldn’t have to pay for anything anyway...” you argued

  “(Y/N),” she narrowed her eyes at you, “you’re not gonna see him. It’s not like we’re going to the game. Just forget Jamie Benn exists for a bit so we can have some fun at my Bachelorette Party.” Claire had been there for you after your breakup with Jamie. For days, she cuddled next to you in matching Onesie’s watching Meg Ryan Rom Com movies from the 80s and eventually your life went back to normal, so you knew that she wasn’t going to let you get hurt. Not again.

  “Fine,” you finally caved, “we’ll go to Dallas.” Claire jumped up and down with glee before running to grab her phone to send out a mass text.

  “Pack your bags, ladies. This bitch is getting married and her maid of honour is putting on a kick ass Bachelorette Party in Dallas. Three days of alcohol and no rules before I give myself to the only man I’ve ever truly loved. Let’s give Dallas a party like they’ve never seen!” All you could do was giggle and roll your eyes when you read the text as you sat across from your best friend. It was going to be three days of alcohol for sure but there would most definitely be rules.

  Especially with Claire’s group of Sorority Sisters she’d collected over the years.

  The flight from Vancouver to Dallas was a rocky one so touching down felt like you’d all just escaped Death. One of Claire’s friends grabbed a cab as soon as the group got out of the airport and everyone piled in to head to Sam’s place; turning to you for “the plan.”

  “Hmm, okay. Here’s what I’ve got going in my brain...” you started, “drop our stuff at Sam’s, go have a bite to eat -- steak, chili, pizza, whatever, -- come back, get dressed and head out. But understand me ladies, there are rules. There will be one stop at one strip club. No more and we will not be ordering a stripper to the house so count your losses if you don’t get the kind of show you want at the club. No drugs and no drinks from strangers. You meet a guy at the club and you want to go off with him? That’s up to you but make sure your phone battery is full so that if you run into trouble one of us can get you help. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Sir, yes, sir!” the girls chanted mockingly and you laughed

  “Alright then..” When it was finally time for the night to begin, the apartment was filled with loud, giddy screams and you weren’t sure what you signed up for; forcing you to take a few too many shots of Tequila before even ordering an Über.

  “Car is here girls, let’s do this” you yelled to the group of girls, frantically checking their makeup in the hall mirror, earning a mocking eye roll from you.

  “WAIT WAIT!” Claire shouted, “we need a selfie first!” The group huddled around Claire and took a few photos -- funny faces, sexy poses, a kiss on the brides cheek and one normal one that Claire chose as her favourite to post.

  @clairebear tagged you in a photo: “My girls and I are ready to show Dallas the true meaning of Party. #werecominforya #hideyoboys #hideyohusbands #Dallas2019 #ifyouresingleletsmingle #ClairesBacheloretteParty2019″

  @(Y/I/H): Counting down until this lady can no longer post hashtags about different cities hiding their men from her. #Clairesgettingmarried #ClairesBacheloretteParty2019.

  It wasn’t long before you’d hit up almost every bar in Downtown Dallas and you could see some of the girls were in desperate need of water so you collected each of them and starting walking down Main Street to find some kind of fast food place to eat when you heard one of the girls scream from the back of the group.

  “What’s wrong!?” you and Claire said at once.

  “Holy fuck! Claire, check your Insta...” Claire hopped on her phone, navigating to the app and immediately looked at you when she saw the comment. You knew it had to be from him, it was the only reason she’d look at you like that.

  “Jamie motherfucking Benn commenting on your post. On a picture of us! Say something back!!!” You and Claire were still deadlocked trying to decide what to do

  “Let’s just step in here and grab some food. We’ll... figure out a reply later” you answered and the girls looked at you dumbfounded. While they ordered, you grabbed a booth and opened your phone to look at the picture, scanning through the comments to find Jamie’s

  @jamiebenn14: you think you can party harder than Dallas? I doubt it but I’m willing to make a bet with you.

  You stared at his comment for too long before you finally noticed that you had a message and your thumb hovered over the little paper plane in the corner of your screen; trying to garner the courage to open it.

  @jamiebenn14 would like to send you a message: long time, no see. You look good.

  That fucker. After ten years, he thinks he can just slide into your DM’s and all will be forgotten. Telling you you look good as if you’d be that gullible, that starstruck, that desperate to cave into him like you always did. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened.

  @(Y/I/H): What’s the bet Benn?

  It was all you could muster. You had heard he was in a relationship and the last thing you needed was to have some chick you’d never met before show up and punch you in the face. You were trying your best not to do anything that might come across as flirtatious or presumptuous but he was your ex...

  @jamiebenn14: Meet me and Ty at the Nines. We’ll show you that Dallas is a better place to party than Kelowna.

  @(Y/I/H): I don’t think so. That wasn’t really the point -- we weren’t implying that Kelowna is a better place to party but that we’re better at partying than anyone in Dallas...

  @jamiebenn14: I don’t think so. You haven’t met these people. You’re out of your league

  @(Y/I/H): I guess I’ve always been out of my league...

  The conversation more or less ended there and you had to pull Claire aside to tell her what was going on, what he was saying, when Shandra overheard and took over the situation.

  “Hell yeah we’ll go to the Nines to meet Jamie Benn and Tyler Seguin!”

  “Shandra shut up!” Claire yelled and you held your face in embarrassment

  “What?! How the hell do you even know them?”

  “We went to High School with Jamie, we’ve never met Tyler before --”

  “And we’re not going to...” you chimed in before Shandra could add in any quips to Claire’s statement.

  “Fine whatever.” You knew that Shandra was going over to the rest of the group and telling them everything, forcing you and Claire to take a deep breath before heading back to the table.

  “Listen to me,” Claire said quickly before the two of you walked back to the table, “you can call it a night. The girls are going to be really aggressive about this and I’m too drunk to say ‘no’ to them right now. So you can call it a night and we’ll pick it up tomorrow. That way you don’t have to see Jamie. And if you block him you won’t have to hear from him...”

  “I’m not bailing on your Bachelorette Party Claire,” you replied, “I’ll survive. I’ll be fine. I’m sure he only looks good on T.V....”

  You were obviously wrong. The second your eyes locked on him at the club, you could feel yourself drooling. He had most definitely gotten better with age and you were the girl who let him go. What an idiot you were.

  “(Y/N), Claire, there you are!” Jamie greeted, pulling Tyler and who you assumed was his girlfriend over, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to take me up on the bet.” You smiled awkwardly but still couldn’t find the words. Why was this so god damn hard?

  “Nice to meet you,” Claire stuck her hand out to Tyler, “I’m Claire.”

  “Tyler and this is Kate” he replied and she gave a small, unenthusiastic wave

  “This is (Y/N)” you were suddenly snapped away from Jamie to greet his teammate.

  “Hi, nice to meet you..”

  “So, you’re the One That Got Away huh?” Tyler said and Jamie gave him a quick nudge, making you huff slightly. You weren’t The One That Got Away, not really, more like the One Who Had Too Much Pride. Your mind was racing. Part of you wanted to stay and get to know Jamie again, another part of you knew it was wrong and that it would end in flames but an even bigger part of you was pissed that he wasn’t describing the situation properly.

  “I’m sorry.. I ca- I have to go..” you stumbled over your words, “I’ll see you at the house Claire. Stay safe please...”

  “Wait (Y/N)” you heard Jamie call after you but you just continued running out of the crowded room. When you finally got out, you noticed that your phone had died and you had to settle for hailing a cab.

  “You’ll never catch a cab” his voice boomed from behind you, sending shivers down your spine

  “You don’t know that”

  “It’s late. I’ve lived here long enough to know when they stop accepting fares.” You looked back at him quickly, and quite pathetically, before getting angry and defensive

  “Fine, I’ll walk then.”

  “You don’t know where you’re going!”

  “I’ll manage”

  “You’ll end up in a ditch”

  “Don’t think so”

  “(Y/N) stop, let me call you an Über or drive you home or something, please..” You stopped walking, your back toward him, and contemplated your options

  “Fine. Order me an Über but then go back inside. I don’t wanna talk to you...” He entered in the address you gave him and tried to get you to talk to him but you refused

  “I don’t get it. What did I do? I barely said anything in there. I couldn’t have offended you that quickly?”

  “Just stop Jamie. Stop talking. It’s not about what happened in there, that doesn’t matter. It’s about what you’re telling people happened back then...”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The One That Got Away?”

  “Yeah..?”

  “Jamie.. you broke up with me because I wouldn’t move here with you”

  “That’s not exactly what happened”

  “No, you’re right. You asked me to skip my graduation, leave my family and my friends to move to a new city with no job prospects or qualifications to be with you. Because your life was more important than mine”

  “I never said my life was more important. I thought you would want to experience this life with me... And I didn’t think we’d survive long distance”

  “You never even tried to give it a chance...”

  “I.. I ju--”

  “Exactly. Look I’m sorry. I’m sorry I came out tonight. I’m sorry I responded to your DM. I’m sorry for everything but you can go back inside. I’ll be fine. Thanks...”

  “Why couldn’t you have at least stayed in touch with me?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “After we broke up? We were friends first before anything and that just went out the window..”

  “You broke my fucking heart!! The last thing I wanted was to keep you in my life without actually having you in my life”

  “Like my heart didn’t break?”

  “You don’t get to play the victim here, Benn, you ended it. I didn’t. I wanted it to work. I would’ve done FaceTime or Skype or emails or texts or anything but you ended it so that was that. You can’t say that your heart broke because you didn’t even fucking try!”

  “(Y/N)”

  “And you moved on rather quickly anyway so...”

  “Not really..”

  “This was a mistake... Have a nice life Jamie. I’ll see you never.” You turned your back to him and waited to hear his footsteps head back inside but they neither dissipated or got closer to you. He never moved.

  “I loved you. Ending it-- us was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Being cold about it seemed like the easiest way to handle it but, ask Jordie, I cried after you told me you wouldn’t stay with me. That you didn’t want to be with me...” You turned around to see a small crowd forming but all you could focus on was Jamie’s sad expression

  “You didn’t give me an option Jamie. I was starting my own life and you were too and I couldn’t take that away from you. I didn’t think you’d take it away from me either but there you were, telling me to drop everything for you. And I would’ve, because I loved you so much, but I didn’t want to resent you”

  “You would’ve resented me?”

  “Maybe... I don’t know. All I know is that it really sucked and it really hurt me that that’s how we were ending.” His gaze dropped to the street and you watched as the headlights from your Über shone across the building, showcasing a small tear on Jamie’s cheek when he looked up at you again

  “I’m sorry...” it suddenly hit you that he said you didn’t want to be with him and your mind raced to find something to say as he started walking away

  “I just wanted you” he stopped dead in his tracks as your words reached him, turning around when the silence was too much to handle, “I would’ve done anything for you, for us, because I just wanted you Jamie. Which is why it hurt so much when we couldn’t find a way to make it work.” He just kind of stared at you and you couldn’t tell if he was waiting for you to continue or if he was trying to come up with something to say himself. You had laid it all out for him again and you couldn’t wait anymore so, you turned to the car waiting for you; opening the door with that same broken heart you had nearly 10 years ago. You heard a quick shuffle of feet and suddenly Jamie’s hand was on your waist and you turned around to meet his stare; he didn’t say anything, only leaned in slowly to capture your lips in a kiss that felt like it had been built up in his system for ages, only stopping when the driver honked his horn.

  “I don’t have time for this. Either get in or shut the door!” With a bright smile, Jamie pulled you away from the car and brought you in for another kiss as he slammed the car door.

[fanforthefics]

Hi! Thank you for doing this! for the 50 words prompts: shaving cream - I'd love Nicke/Ovi or Gabe/Tyson please!

sorry ‘bout the angst...

Tyson takes Gabe home from the plane. 

It’s a horrible sort of plane ride, just the worst kind of silence, where everyone’s either sleeping sadly or not-sleeping sadly, all of them dwelling. Nate, next to Tyson, was knocked out on pain meds, which is a shit show all of its own. A few sweats in front of them, Tyson could see the tense line of Gabe’s back. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to him after the game; he’d been stuck with media and then, Gabe was doing the Captain thing, trying to smile and bear up the team, when he knows he’s dwelling. Now Gabe looks--drained. Like all that energy is gone. 

So when they get off the plane, Tyson lets EJ half-carry Nate out. Tyson makes sure that everyone else is delivered to whatever significant other is there or groups--he catches Kerf’s eyes to make sure he’s got JT and Josty, because sometimes it’s clear that he is the oldest there; he makes sure that Matt’s got Cale, who looked maybe the most shaken of all of them. It’s like Nate, a bit--sometimes he’s so good Tyson forgets just how much he’s still a kid. 

“Nate’s in your backseat,” EJ says, and Tyson turns to him. EJ looks just as tired as the rest of the, as beaten down, but--well, Tyson doesn’t want to say he has experience losing, but he does. They both do. “I can--” 

He nods, to where Gabe’s still standing, leaning against his own car door. He looks like the mere idea of opening the door is too much energy. 

Tyson shakes his head. “I’ve got him,” He says, and EJ even spares a smile for that. 

“Sure you do,” he teases, and Tyson rolls his eyes and throws an elbow for he goes to Gabe. 

“Hey, bud,” he says, in his best approximation of gentle. Tyson’s not really good at gentle, but, hey. He can try. “Come on, I’ll get you home.” 

“I can drive,” Gabe mutters. Tyson rolls his eyes again. 

“Yeah, sure, but come on.” He waits, but when it doesn’t look like Gabe’s going to do anything, he grabs Gabe’s. “Yeah, you’re coming with me, let’s go.” 

“I don’t--” Tyson ignores him, and tugs him over to Tyson’s car. As EJ said, Nate’s passed out in the backseat, so Tyson herds Gabe into the front seat. It’s not hard, which is somehow worse. Gabe’s always so--Gabe, big and dramatic and stubborn, so Tyson being able to lead him around isn’t...great. 

Tyson turns on the radio to some nondescript music station as they drive home, but Gabe doesn’t even give him any shit for the classic rock, which is how Tyson knows it’s serious. He should probably make a joke, now. Should make Gabe smile. That’s what he does, that’s what he’s supposed to be good at, but--

Fuck, losing doesn’t get any easier. Especially when he hadn’t... 

But it’s easier to set Gabe to helping Tyson get Nate out of the car than to think about that. Together, they get Nate inside Tyson’s house, up to the guest bedroom that at this point is basically Nate’s, where he comes to enough to kick off his shoes, pants, and shirt and curl up in bed. Tyson grabs him a glass of water. 

“Hey,” Gabe says, when they shut the door on Nate. “You didn’t take me home.” 

“Wow, your observant-ness knows no bounds,” Tyson retorts, and Gabe snorts. It feels like a wash of cool, fresh water. Tyson might not have been able to win them anything, but he can make Gabe laugh. That’s...no. it’s not almost winning. But it’s something. 

“Tyson,” Gabe starts, and it’s in that tone, the tone that means he’s being Serious, that he has Emotions he needs to express. Tyson really doesn’t want to hear what emotions Gabe has right now; Tyson’s never been good with emotions and he can’t handle them now. 

“I’m taking a shower,” Tyson says, cutting him off. Gabe’s lips twist, like he gets what Tyson’s doing--he probably does. They know each other, too well, maybe. “Grab whatever, you know. Don’t split any of my shirts.”

“I don’t think there’s a risk of that,” Gabe replies, because--yeah. They’re all playoffs thin. And for--

“Sure, sure. I see how tight you wear your clothes,” Tyson says, and goes to take a shower. 

He’d barely showered, before, because they all wanted to get the fuck out of San Jose, but now he takes his time. It can’t wash everything off, but it feels better, at least. 

He gets out of the shower, dries off and wraps a towel around his waist, and then--it’s just there. The shaving cream, sitting on his bathroom counter. He hadn’t moved it out of some weird instinct, or superstition, but now it’s just staring him down. 

“Hey.” the door opens, and Gabe steps in. He’s wearing some sweats he or Nate must have left there, because they’re long enough for him, but his shirt is an old Kelowna one. He might not have wanted to wear anything Avs-branded, right now. 

“Excuse you!” Tyson gasps, louder than he needs to. “IT’s a door!” 

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t drown yourself.” 

“I could have been naked!” 

Gabe’s eyebrows go up, in a way that says clearly that he’s seen Tyson naked before, and it’s not a thing. Tyson flushes. “It’s my bathroom, it’s different.” 

“Uh-huh.” Gabe doesn’t move. Tyson gets it. He doesn’t want to be alone either. 

Then Gabe takes a breath, and Tyson knows that breath. He knows what Gabe looks like, when he’s carrying too much. “Tyson,” he says again, “I’m--” 

“If you say sorry, you’re sleeping on the couch,” Tyson snaps, and Gabe barks out a laugh despite himself. Then his mouth sets, mulish.

“I am, though. I messed--” 

“We all did.” Tyson turns, then he knows what Gabe needs, so he tugs him into a hug, lets himself curl into Gabe and rest his head against his shoulder and lean into him, lets Gabe wrap his arms around Tyson and drop his head into Tyson’s hair and breath. 

It’s easier. To stand, when Gabe’s holding him up, when Gabe’s leaning on him. 

“Tys,” Gabe says, softer this time. “I--”

“Yeah,” Tyson tells his shirt. “Me too.” 

He can feel Gabe exhale against him. 

He sits there as long as he can stand, before he starts to get fidgety, before his brain starts to go places he can’t let it. Then he straightens, and Gabe lets his arms fall away. He doesn’t move away, though. 

“Well,” Tyson says, “One good thing. I can finally shave.” 

“Great, i can kiss you again,” Gabe replies, and he’s teasing a little lighter, now. Tyson wants to think he did that. He helped. 

That’s what he thinks about, as he lathers up his faces, drags a razor over his cheeks. Not about the game, about what he should have done. Not about this summer, about the rumors, about his contract. Not about what Cale means for him in Denver, or Seattle, or any of that. 

Instead, he thinks of Gabe, still hovering next to him; of Nate in the room next door, of the rest of his team. How he and Gabe will go to bed and it won’t be what he wanted, won’t be the victory lap, but they’ll be together. He’ll have Gabe. 

“Well,” Gabe says, dragging a finger over the smooth skin of Tyson’s cheek, when he’s done. He’s smiling a little down at Tyson, that look in his eyes like he likes what he sees, like he’s happy that Tyson’s here. “That’s definitely a plus.” 

“Yeah,” Tyson agrees, and turns his face into Gabe’s hand. “It is.” 

[morosemariposa]

2019 Skate Canada International

The Grand Prix Series continues this week with event two Skate Canada. This year located at Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada. Luckily for me I was able to watch all of the competition live. Hurray! I enjoy watching skating live. Watching live is the best because your in the moment and want everyone to perform the best they can do.

LADIES’ SP This was a fun well skated segment. Some skaters didn’t do well but the ones that did really shined. The free skate is going to be a battle for the podium. Any one of the top three could win and anyone of them could also fall off the podium. The top three were especially spectacular and deserving of their placements.

Young You - When will Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet make a comeback? Besides the music choice she did all her elements well, but all the choreographic movements could belong to any piece of music.

Marin Honda - That popped 3F into a 2F took all the charm away from the performance. It’s too bad because she has the ability but she’s been having jump problems for a while and I hope she can deliver a clean short sometime this season.

Gabrielle Daleman - It’s always nice when a skater is proud of their skate. I like this for her and hopefully that momentum continues in the free skate.

Alexandra Trusova - It was a good clean short for Alexandra. She did all the elements well and the music is dramatic and fun just like her.

Evgenia Medvedeva - It wasn’t a good short. The things she did do didn’t go over well and the mistakes made the performance nonexistent.

Rika Kihira - Despite the nature of this program I do like that Rika is performing it to it’s fullest at this point in the season. This is only the second time she’s skated this in competition and both times she nailed it. This program brings out more of what Rika is capable of in terms of performance and she still has a ways to go. Congrats on a deserved 1st place in the short program.

LADIES’ FP Nobody had a clean free skate. The top three deserved their medals but they didn’t have clean skates. What the three of them did have were the best two skated programs across the competition. They each had clean short programs and each had only one significant flaw in the free program. Congratulations to the medalists! To the skaters that still have a second event in the Grand Prix Series, I hope they put out better performances. A lot of free programs here weren’t to my taste but there were at least two programs that I liked.

Marin Honda - She was focusing on the jumps that much was clear and it was a good idea for that to be the focus. This early in the season it’s a good strategy for Marin to focus a little more on  the jumps especially because she has a trouble being consistent in jumps. The second jump in all the combos were doubles and they need to be triples but this was a good effort. She performed the choreographic elements well and got a good score. It’s great that she’s happy with her score she needs this confidence boost.

Gabrielle Daleman - Right from the beginning the jumps were erratic and uncontrolled. The fall in the middle of the StSq was unexpected and quite the surprise but the performance quality wasn’t there and her focus became the jumps which is understandable. Hopefully some time this season she’ll be able to perform clean across both programs.

Evgenia Medvedeva - She did everything she set out to do and did it well. There are parts that are rushed and unpolished but in general personally the program isn’t one I’ll ever like as a whole.

Young You - There is no performance quality, just various arm movements. The music doesn’t do her any favors and she would be much better off doing a program to classical piano pieces. Despite that congrats to her on her bronze medal.

Alexandra Trusova - Three quads and two of them in combination, of course she was going to win with a skate of that level. The TES was 100.20, that’s more than some of the men! Her skating is still at that unpolished and rushing through the elements stage but that will come with age and experience. Congratulations on a commanding victory!

Rika Kihira - Rika had the best two performances across this competition. In this free program she performed every element well except for the opening 3A and she performed the program consistently throughout. A great skate and a well earned silver medal.

MEN’S SP This men’s short program was boring and a chore to watch. A lot of messy skates and a lot of programs that I personally don’t like. Special shout out to Deniss and his cute smile at the end of his program.

Keiji Tanaka - This is the first time I’ve seen Keiji perform his short and I think it’s okay. The jumps weren’t what they were supposed to be. Some pops here and there and the spins were alright and the step sequence could’ve gone better. I’m not a fan of the music and this kind of music really needs to be performed over the top. The shirt is ugly. Point blank. I guess it’s suppose to be.

Yuzuru Hanyu - It was beautiful, fantastic, and there’s nothing else to say. The 4T in the combination and the StSq could’ve gone smother but who cares. Deservedly in 1st after the short.

Matteo Rizzo - The 4T could’ve gone better and the 3Lz+Combo just sucks. He could do better than this and we know it but the ice is unpredictable.

Deniss Vasiljevs - I really love this program. Deniss performs it to it’s full potential every time. I don’t care about the jumps. He is a skater who gives 100% to the performance. I just love him, he’s so cute!

MEN’S FP The first half was just as boring as the entire short program but then group two came and gave life to a dismal event. Those last four skates were great and fun to watch. Shout out to Nam Nguyen for that amazing free skate and an even better standing ovation from the audience. Totally deserved silver medal. All three of the medalist were great and they really made the competition.

Matteo Rizzo - This style of music is great for Matteo. It’ll stretch his capability and performance quality in the long run and eventually if the program were to be performed clean then it’ll be an entertaining routine to watch. His major issue right now is getting consistency in his jumps.

Deniss Vasiljevs - Those few pops really hurt his technical score but the his PCS were great.  It’s insightful hearing him critique his own performance in the Kiss & Cry. His assesment is valid and Stephane’s input is as well. Deniss really needs to be consistent in his jumps and be able to flow through the program seamlessly. This needs to be done without concern whether he should focus more on the technical elements or the performance elements.

Keiji Tanaka - I was so happy that he tackled that 1T on the 4S. Better a 1T than a +REP. That 4S was really close to the boards and I can see why maybe he was nervous and the landing turned out a bit iffy. He popped two other jumps as well but there were no major mistakes and I’m starting to really like this program. It’s fun and it’s on brand for Keiji. I like that he’s chosen to skate more for himself from now on with more consistency than before. YAY KEIJI, BRONZE MEDAL!!!

Yuzuru Hanyu - That was amazing. One could be nitpick and say that the opening 4L and the 3A2T in the second half could’ve been smother for an even more perfect score but again who cares. He was amazing and got a gigantic score. The undisputed champion. Congratulations on 1st place!!

Ice Dance The free dance was so much fun to watch. The Lilah Fear/Lewis Gibson free dance to Madonna’s Vogue and Like a Prayer was great. I loved watching every minute of it, their so charismatic and crowd pleasing. So happy for them and their bronze medal. The Piper Gilles/Paul Poirier Kiss & Cry reaction to their first place score was the best moment on the competition. I was so happy for them. I really wanted Kaitlin Hawayek/Jean-Luc Baker to medal, they’re my favorite American ice dance team and their so much fun when they skate. I know they were disappointing in their overall score and I don’t blame them. It’s really hard to take when you miss the podium by less that a point. Their qualification chances to the Grand Prix Final are small but they still the opportunity as long as they compete just like they did here.

This was such a great competition. So much fun to watch. It had great skates from amazing skaters and amazing skates from surprising skaters. This competition really makes qualifying for the Grand Prix Final that much more interesting. Can’t wait for next week.