#Sweden I miss you so deeply

[obituarybug]

Everytime I tell someone I'm independent/no party and they immediately start spouting bullshit to me about the importance of voting and why I should vote and that "a vote for third party is a vote for x" an angel loses its wings

Like sorry I wasn't aware that only Republicans & Democrats are allowed to vote for their respective parties and independents can't and that if they see you're registered independent they fucking rip up your ballot in front of you and don't count it

I AM STILL GOING TO FUCKING VOTE SHUT YOUR BITCH ASS UP.

[wileys-russo]

KCC, “if you think I’m cute when I’m mad I’m about to be gorgeous”, at home or training🫶🫶

forgotten coffee II k.cooney-cross

today was not a good day.

normally you were someone who let issues run away from you like water off a ducks back, who brushed hardships off and continued forward with a smile on your face and optimism on your tongue.

you had to in order to have dated kyra for as long as you had, as everyone loved to remind you had the patience of a saint and you had years of experience in calming down and dealing with the sporadic and often juvenile behaviours she displayed.

the two of you growing up in the youth teams and progressing through the a-league together you'd realised on a team night out you were harboring more than just friendly feelings for her.

never one to shy away from what you want you were the one who made the first move though fearful of rejection. but luckily that rejection never came, and years later you were still going strong.

but today, today was not a good day.

you'd had one of the worst night sleeps you thought possible, waking up what felt like every half an hour with a groan and a huff tossing and turning until finally you'd drift off again only to wake up a few moments later and start the routine over again.

normally kyra would be there to try and help you but she'd spent the last few days helping charli move in and you'd encouraged she spend the night there to really help your friend feel settled and at home.

plus you knew better than anyone how much kyra truly missed her best friend now they weren't both playing in sweden and able to see one another whenever they pleased.

you contemplated calling the girl around three thirty wondering if even the sound of her voice might help but you decided against it, not wanting the interrupt the night you insisted they both have despite how much both girls tried to invite you to come along.

so when your alarm finally went at seven thirty indicating you needed to get up and ready for training you were positively exhausted, miserable and grumpy.

which was obvious to your girlfriend the very moment you stepped outside, the brunette having taken her training things to charli's but offering you a lift she sat in her car in your shared driveway not bothered to go inside as she waited you to come out.

"for fuck sakes!" you threw your head back with a groan as the keys slipped from your hand as you tried to lock up, kicking the door with a grunt as kyra watched on cautiously.

you slung your gym bag over your shoulder grumbling obscenities under your breath as of course because you were already in a foul mood you caught your foot on the edge of the steps and went tumbling down to the ground.

kyra went to unbuckle herself and help you but you were already to your feet, snatching your bag and storming off to the car with a scowl plastered into your features.

"good morning sunshine." the midfielder greeted as you slid into the passenger seat after tossing your bag in the boot. "fuck off." you mumbled with a frown, catching yourself and sighing. "sorry, had the worst night sleep." you apologised, leaning over the console to peck her lips.

"babe why didn't you call me? i can sleepover at char's anytime i would have come home." kyra grabbed your hand, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles with a frown as you buckled in.

"because you deserved a nice night with char i know you missed your little sleepovers. but its fine i just need a fucking coffee!" you exhaled deeply as kyra's eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip as suddenly you noticed the coffee you assumed was yours in the cup holder was not.

"you didn't get me a coffee?" you asked in disbelief as kyra winced. "i assumed you'd make one at home! we can get one on the way?" kyra tried, starting up the engine as you sank deeper into the seat. "we don't have time for that because you're late because you stopped to get a coffee and didn't get me one." you mumbled grumpily, scowl returning as kyra grimaced.

"i'm sorry!" your girlfriend apologized again as you hummed, refusing to look at her. "baby, please i'm really really sorry." her eyes burned into the side of your head as you continued to ignore her.

"babe!" the girl whined, reaching out for you as you pushed her hand away and huffed. "i have never ever gotten a coffee and not at least offered you one, we always get one another a coffee." you finally looked at her though the look in your eyes had kyra breaking it and glancing away.

"babe i really am sorry. i love you?" kyra tried as you hummed, pulling out your phone. "i love you so much?" she tried again with a charming smile, met with even more silence. "you look really cute when you're mad?" kyra poked at you, still met with silence as she gave in and started up the car backing out of the driveway.

"hi lessi." kyra's head whipped toward you at a red light as you held your phone to your ear. "have you grabbed coffee yet?" you questioned hopefully, knowing the blonde lived a lot closer to colney than you and kyra did.

"oh my god yes please, kyra doesn't care about me and my needs anymore." you shot her a pointed look as she gasped. "less she's lying!" the midfielder yelled as you rolled your eyes. "i love you! and i owe you, thanks less." you blew her a kiss and hung up the phone.

"so you'll tell less you love her but not me!" kyra scoffed as you shrugged, head buried in your phone still grumpy, ignoring all of her attempts at conversation as she gave up with a groan and turned the music up louder instead.

you sighed in relief seeing alessia, vic and emily waiting around for you, a coffee held securely in alessia's hand which you knew had your name on it, the three girls hovering near where kyra always parked in waiting.

barely putting the car in park kyra had hopped out and darted around to the side opening the door for you with a wide eager smile. laughter rung out as kyra tried to kiss you but you ducked under her arm leaving her behind with a frown as you popped her boot and grabbed your bag out.

"trouble in paradise cooney cross?" vic teased with a smirk as your girlfriend shot her a glare, slamming your door and grabbing her own bag with a huff. "you alright?" alessia murmured with a concerned gaze as she handed you the coffee.

"i am in a terrible mood." you muttered, sighing in relief at the first sip of your coffee, melting into a hug from the taller girl who patted your back. "oh kyra! get off." you heard steph groan as you pulled away from the hug seeing your girlfriend latched onto your national teammate.

"call her off! please." steph caught your eye and begged as you sipped on your coffee and walked off without a word, kyra clambering off steph and chasing after you.

"that was frosty, ouch." steph winced as the four girls followed after the pair of you, watching in amusement as your girlfriend tried routinely to grab your free hand or sling an arm over your shoulder as you pushed her off time after time.

you continued to ignore kyra's attempts to charm, flirt and schmooze with you as you entered the locker room. "oo ouch. now what did you do?" caitlin caught on instantly, steering kyra away from hovering after you as you dropped down into your cubby to change shoes.

"didn't get her a coffee and she's extra grumpy today because she didn't sleep and i slept over at charli's." kyra mumbled with a huff, fighting to wrench off caitlins arm which only tightened around her neck.

"oh girlfriend of the year!" caitlin whistled as kyra broke free and jumped onto her back wrapping her arm around the older girls neck now. "get off ya leech!" caitlin groaned trying to shake her off with no real luck as you laced up your boots and grabbed your coffee ready to head off for the team briefing.

but what kyra failed to see as she was clinging on tightly to caitlin was you try to shuffle past, accidentally kicking your coffee right from your hand as it clattered to the floor and kyra dropped away from caitlin who winced and hurried away.

"baby-" kyra started as you held up a hand, silencing her.

"if you think i'm cute when i'm mad i'm about to be gorgeous." you warned calmly, eyes narrowing as you let out a war cry and charged at your girlfriend who sprinted off away from you.

"come here babe i'm gonna kill you!"

[couldawouldashoulda50]

From Completely Different Worlds - William Nylander

The Sweden Chapter - Part One

A/N - This is a continuation of the above mentioned series between William Nylander and Loren Girard. Link for the all previous chapters are here.

it is also an early birthday submission for my dear @misshoneyimhome in advance of her actual birthday in October. Since she has been a such a big part of this William x Loren journey, I wanted to dedicate these final parts to wrap up this story (for now at least) to her. I just hope I can get Part Two done in time 😉💕

As ever, thank you for taking the time to read, like, send in comments and asks. It's beyond encouraging and is very much appreciated. I hope you like these final parts.

Warnings/Notes - this goes along the lines of the Leafs, and William himself stating he suffered from migraines at the start of the playoffs. Additional warnings based on symptoms (severe headaches, nausea, vision impairment), profanity, allusions to sex/smut

Word Count 8.6k (sorry) 18+ only please.

Recap - In March of 2024, after meeting at the Easter Seals Skate charity event in Toronto, a bittersweet romance unfolded between hockey superstar William and personal support worker Loren. Their chemistry was undeniable, and they quickly fell for each other, creating a whirlwind between them that felt so incredibly right.

For Loren, each encounter with William felt like it might be her last with the hockey star. She approached their time together with a mix of excitement and caution, trying to balance a level of detachment. She knew his star was too big, too bright for a small-town girl working two jobs to pay the bills. Yet, she couldn't help but fully embrace the amazing person he proved to be.

As the NHL season progressed, William's performance on the ice—which had already been declining—became increasingly noticeable. The mounting pressure left him at a crossroads. Under intense scrutiny from both himself and the media, William made the difficult decision to limit distractions and focus solely on his game.

William and Loren parted ways with heavy hearts. Despite her attempts to remain detached from William's magnetism, the breakup deeply affected Loren, leaving her full of sadness. William, though seemingly despondent while delivering his decision to Loren, maintained a cool demeanor afterward, as if nothing outside the arena bothered him. Despite his scoring slump in the final stretch of games, William had already surpassed his career-best point total by a double-digit margin. He finished just two points shy of 100—an impressive season for him overall.

And so it went, the Toronto Maple Leafs would be facing the Boston Bruins in Round One of the Stanley Cup playoffs. The city seemed nervous but hopeful the team would be able to trounce the Bruins and make it to the second round of the playoffs for the second year in a row.

April, 2024.

As the season drew to a close, Loren couldn't bring herself to watch the Maple Leafs' final games when she turned them on for Gary during her shift at the group home. The team struggled against their remaining opponents and William’s lack-luster performances added even more discourse, leaving everyone seemingly wondering what had gone wrong in the end.

As always in Toronto, playoff season evoked either excitement about the possibility of winning more than two rounds or dread, as if the team were already doomed to failure.

Just before the playoffs began, Toronto media reported that William, citing an undisclosed issue, didn't skate with the team for their final practice held in Boston. His absence sparked speculation and worry among fans and sports analysts alike. The concern was particularly intense given that William did not seem to be playing through an injury and hadn't missed a single regular season game in years.

The timing of William's mysterious absence, coupled with his recent poor performance, fueled rumors about his physical state. Some speculated about a possible injury, while others wondered if the coach, Sheldon Keefe, was so livid about William’s poor performance in game 82 that Keefe was possibly benching him for Game One of the playoffs.

The speculation intensified when William was notably absent from the team's morning skate on the day of the crucial playoff opener. Fans and media alike were left wondering about the true nature of his situation, with theories ranging from a hidden injury to illness. The uncertainty surrounding William's status added an extra layer of tension to an already high-stakes game, leaving everyone questioning how the team would fare without one of its star players.

As the playoff game approached, the uncertainty surrounding William's status cast a shadow over the team's abilities to compete against their rival. The lack of transparency from the Maple Leafs organization only served to intensify the speculation, leaving everyone to wonder about the true nature of William's absence and its potential impact on the team's playoff performance.

As the media cries of “Where’s Willy” saturated every sports channel, Loren tried - and failed - to not get sucked into all of the inflammatory opinions that somehow showed up in some of her social media feeds. She tried to stay off of her phone altogether but with her new self-employment venture hitting the ground running, the use of her cell phone was a necessary evil.

As she scrolled through her notifications, a headline caught her eye: "William Nylander's Mysterious Absence: Injury or Something More?"

It certainly got her rattled.

Despite her best efforts to move on, she couldn't help but worry about William. The thought of him potentially being injured or facing some other issue made her realize that, despite everything, she still cared deeply for him.

She quickly reminded herself “not your sink, not your dishes” and resumed getting Gary ready to take him for a stroll in his wheelchair.

But sometimes, the nagging worry about what was going on with William got the better of Loren. She couldn’t stop her mind from thinking about why he appeared to be MIA at that moment. Even if she wanted to forget about it, she couldn’t because every Toronto media outlet that was in her feed was talking incessantly about it.

Later that evening as she slid into her bed, the “Where the F*ck is William Nylander” headline appeared on a reel for a popular hockey podcast that Loren occasionally listened to. The two ex-hockey players further fueled rumours surrounding William’s absence with saying he may have hurt his back in the “champagne room” of a Miami strip-club while celebrating the end of the season.

Loren’s heart dropped and shattered as she visualized William plowing a beautiful and stacked bombshell in the back room of a Florida strip bar. It was one possibility out of many, and Loren had to accept that.

Maybe it would have been better to have never met William in the first place.

Loren tossed and turned in her bed, unable to shake the intrusive thoughts about William. She knew she shouldn't care, that their relationship was over, but her heart refused to listen to reason. As she stared at the ceiling, she was completely consumed by regret and self-doubt.

The bitch of the situation was she still cared about what was going on with him. It was so out of character for him to miss a game, let alone the all-important Game One of the playoffs, and that fact gnawed at her conscience.

"Fuck's sake…" Loren muttered aloud.

With severe trepidation, she reached for her phone, her fingers hovering over William's contact information.

Loren typed a short message, apologizing for texting him, let alone sending it in the middle of the night. She simply wanted to know if he was going to be okay.

As she hit send, a wave of anxiety washed over her. She placed her phone face down on the nightstand, trying to calm the ache that had settled into her stomach, as she played the whole "will he/won't he" game in her head.

Loren lay there, cheeks blazing, mind racing and becoming more agitated with herself for being so fucking foolish with getting tied up with William. Why the fuck did she still care?

That question plagued her endlessly.

And she came back to the same conclusion. That's just simply who she is and what she does. She cares about people.

Just because William was more or less a memory at this point, she still needed to hear that everything would be okay with him—and hopefully soon.

Eventually, somehow, something in her musings lulled her to sleep.

The next morning, Loren awoke feeling tired and unsettled. She rolled onto her side and stared into the emptiness of her bed and throughout her bedroom. The quietness in her home, which she normally loved, bothered her this morning. She couldn't quite place why she felt so irritated—she had a much-needed day off with no pressing events on her calendar. She was caught up with errands and bill payments. She slept well, once she fell asleep that is. She had nothing in front of her that day to warrant her crusty mood.

Then it all came flooding back in her mind. Thoughts of William possibly blowing out his back after being serviced at a strip club. His poor performance. His absence. The fact that he still had never left her brain since they met, hung out, and broke up—with everything in between those moments still lingering too. She then remembered the text message she sent him.

Oh fuck… the text message….shit…..

Loren coached herself in her head. Okay, Loren. Just be prepared. Please be prepared that he may have blocked you. He may never respond. Please. Do not spiral if there’s no response.

She swiped her phone open. The text message icon appeared, indicating multiple messages received. They all had William's name attached to them, with the first messages being sent not long after she had fallen asleep.

Anxiously, she read each one. She had to read the messages multiple times as her sudden increase in blood pressure made her head ache and her eyes blur.

His messages were sent with a small period of time between each one.

He told her how glad he was that she reached out.

He told her he was okay but he had some “medical issues” going on

Then he told her not to worry.

Loren slowly laid back down resting her head on her pillow and closed her eyes. She laid her phone, screen side down once again next to her on the bed.

Placing her hand over her heart that was galloping, she tried to get a hold of every thought running wild in her head. Images that were a mix of intimate moments spent together and then the low moments that came when he left that fateful morning with his sweet dogs happily in tow.

Her phone buzzed and chimed which made her stomach lurch. It’s not that she thought it was William, or even hoped it was him. It was the fact that she was already overwhelmed with an influx of unsolicited emotions, and it was barely 8am.

Loren hesitated for a moment before picking up her phone again. She knew she should check it, but part of her wanted to stay in this bubble of uncertainty just a little longer. Taking a deep breath, she flipped the phone over and glanced at the screen.

It was another message from William. Her heart raced as she read his words: "Can I call you?"

Loren stared at the screen. More dots bounced as William continued to type. She set her phone back down, and pressed her hands against her face. She really did not like that William could send her reeling like this.

For fuck sakes Loren….this is bullshit. He’s just a fucking hockey player. He’s not a God…stop acting like he is.

Her internal reprimand gave her enough piss and vinegar to remind her that she’s got a fucking backbone.

She slowly typed that he could call, her thumb hovered over the “send’ button for an extended period of time. She hit the button before she could talk herself out of it.

Within seconds, her phone began to ring.

Loren sat up in bed with her legs crossed, straightened her back, took a deep breath and tapped to accept the call from William.

"Hey," William's voice came through, soft and hesitant. There was a brief pause before he continued, "I'm sorry for calling so early. I sorta saw that you read my messages so….yeah. How are you?”

Loren's breath caught in her throat, her initial resolve already beginning to falter.

“Good, William. I’m good. I’m sorry to hear about - …if - that you’re not doing well,” Loren’s words stumbled a little as she spoke. She could feel heat blotching her neck and her cheeks were blazing red.

“Yeah - it’s not great. I can’t really talk about it much right now but I’ll be ok.”

“I’m glad, William. Hoping you’ll be cleared soon…give Pasta a little run for his money.”

William chuckled at Loren referencing his good friend and fellow number 88 for the Bruins, David Pastrňák.

“That’s my plan.”

There was a hesitation at William’s end but despite her desire to avoid awkward pauses, she simply waited for him to speak.

“So, I was wondering if I could ask a big….I mean - a huge favour, really. I know I’m probably the last person you would want to help but I’m really hoping you can.”

“That’s not true. If I can, I’d be happy to help you out.”

The warmth in Loren’s response made William’s heart crack.

“So, the stuff I’m going through sort of prevents me from getting around on my own sometimes. I’m in Boston right now so I’ve got the medical staff nearby but I think I might need help when I get back to Toronto. There’s kind of a lot of stuff going on right now and I need someone close to me that I can trust and keep everything private.”

If they were on a video call, William would have immediately seen Loren's confused expression.

“…..okay….so - what exactly can I do to help…?” Loren asked cautiously. She had no idea where this was going.

“The thing is part of what’s happening involves - what can I call it…”

Loren thought about what he might mean. “Like do you need….personal care?”

“Yeah….exactly. I know that sounds kind of, I don’t know…like something else. The thing is, part of what happens when I have migraines…I tend to….well, like nothing stays down….”

“Vomit…?” Loren clarified.

“Pretty much, yeah. I just need some help getting through the next 4 or 5 days maybe? I know how bad it probably sounds with me asking you this. I mean….I’ve wanted to talk to you anyway but -”

“I get it…” Loren wasn’t sure if she wanted to sound curt or not, but she didn’t want to hear that “he’s been meaning to call.”

Loren rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “Hmmm…let me see what I can do. When do you get back?”

“Tonight. There’s kind of a lot to explain -,” William paused for a moment, unsure how to broach the next subject. “There’s going to be a camera crew around me at some point this week as well. Fucking shitty timing.”

Loren just shook her head. This was all too strange.

Loren chuckled. “Jesus William, I’m not even going to ask…but I swear this shit can only happen to you.”

This is exactly why William often missed Loren. She could poke fun at life a little and ease some of the tension. That’s what he needed right now.

She heard his hallmark giggle softly through the phone before adding “Fuck - tell me about it.”

“Well, okay….I can’t say yes right at the moment. I’ll see if I can juggle some stuff around. I’ll message you back when I know more.”

“Or…you can call. I’d like the company - if you can….things have been really fucking shit lately.”

She rolled her eyes mockingly but then felt bad. “I can imagine,” she said, sounding as sympathetic and supportive as she could.

There was a pause - so Loren decided to wrap the conversation up. “Alright then, I’ll be in touch one way or the other once I know more. Take it easy William - ok?”

“Wait - Loren….look, I’m s - I’m really sorry.” William’s hesitation between his words and his low tone softened Loren a little more.

“William - you’ve not done anything wrong. There’s no need for an apology…. not in my mind anyway.”

“Yeah, but I am sorry for the way things turned out. Bad timing I guess.”

Loren wasn’t sure she believed in bad timing. Despite how she felt for him, she had faith that things happen in life the way they’re supposed to. Bad timing had nothing to do with it.

“Well, then…I’m sorry too William.” Loren paused again and then tried to sound upbeat. “Okay, let me get going on this and I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Hey - uh, thanks Loren. I really appreciate it….for sure, talk to you soon. Call, okay?”

Loren mumbled a half-assed acknowledgement before ending the call. Hanging her head, and then looking up at the ceiling, all she could mutter was “what the fuck - really?”

She flopped back on the bed. Her head was hurting and her stomach was a mess.

Her phone buzzed and chimed once more. Loren’s irritation was beginning to simmer.

Swear to God - if this is William again….I’m going to fucking scream….

It was William. He sent a picture he took of Loren, Pablo and Banksy on his couch that was taken weeks ago. She remembered that moment when the dogs were vying for her attention but never knew William had witnessed it, let alone taken a photo.

His caption read “I meant to send this to you awhile ago. Really great picture. Hoping you can come visit. The boys would be happy to see you.”

Seeing the still shot of a memory which William kept for whatever reason, helped soften her mood.

Hopping into the shower, she visualized her calendar for the next week, making mental moves in her head like a chess game. She had no idea why she was even doing this other than the simple fact she liked to help people in need, first and foremost.

Within the hour, schedules and plans had been altered, financing for the missed hours from work was accounted for, and she placed the call to William, asking him when he'd like her to come.

"Tonight, if possible?" was William's response. "I haven't been feeling that great today and this stuff might hit me harder when I get home," he added for clarification.

Loren was apprehensive, but she agreed to stay.

Later that day, after William confirmed he was en-route to the airport in Boston, he asked if she could start venturing down to his place.

It seemed that "fuck me" was her mantra that day. Loren repeated her mantra again and again for the entire drive down to Yorkville.

◇◈◆◇◈◇◆◈

William had already secured Loren parking in the visitors section at his building. Pulling into a well-lit spot, she hurriedly grabbed her bags from the trunk. Despite the level of security the underground garage had, she was still a little nervous being in a parking garage at night by herself.

Loren rode the elevator to the main lobby and approached the security desk to advise which tenant she was visiting and the make and model of her vehicle. Having seen her previously, one of officers, by the name of Warren, advised that William had requested that she be escorted and given entry to his place prior to his arrival. There had been a fog delay at Boston’s Logan Airport and William’s arrival was far behind schedule.

Warren smiled warmly at Loren as he handed her the key fob for William's unit and the two chatted amicably during the elevator ride to William’s floor. "Mr. Nylander mentioned you might be staying for a few days. It’ll be nice to see another friendly face around here.”

When it came to William’s day to day goings on, the only other people that would know what he did and who he saw would be the security officers at his building.

Loren chuckled and smiled, but felt a twinge of unease wondering if the guard was secretly implying something. She wondered how much the security staff had witnessed of William's personal life and visitors. As she stepped out of the elevator, she pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on sounds of Pablo and Banksy slight whimpers at the door. Loren asked Warren what time the dogs’ caregiver would have dropped them off, trying to understand if they would be desperate for to go outside. Warren informed her that the dogs had been dropped off about an hour ago, so there shouldn’t be an urgent need. Loren had never taken the pups out by themselves, and she wanted to ask William before she went ahead anyway.

Loren thanked Warren for his help as she unlocked the door to William's condo.

As she stepped into the apartment, Pablo and Banksy greeted her with enthusiastic yips, both standing on their hind legs to accept Loren’s affectionate rubs. Loren knelt down to pet them cooing at their sweet faces and accepting their voracious wet kisses in return. It was so bewildering to be standing in William’s place without him there, and she felt a little out of sorts.

She scouted out where it would be best to sleep, talking softly to Pablo and Banksy as they followed her room to room. It was difficult not to feel something as she carefully padded through William’s space. Loren tried to breath deeply to calm her nerves, but instead, she would catch a scent that belonged to William, and her stomach would flip once more.

Her phone chimed which startled her. William messaged her that he would be home soon. The messages were just a few words that barely made a sentence and it had her wondering what kind shape his was in.

Loren sat in the dimly lit living room with the memories of their first meeting, their first meal, their first glass of wine.

Their first kiss.

That kiss is why there are love songs, poetry, and Hallmark greeting cards.

It was a small part of what made her insides hurt that things ended between them. The other part was simply him. William’s exterior was one thing, but what lived inside his head is what she missed the most. He was a little bit of everything. Quirky. Nerdy for sure. Intelligent in many things but undeniably clueless with others. His curiosity. If he was interested in a topic, the long list of questions he asked were thoughtful and thought-provoking.

She had not experienced being around a man like William before. But now that she had, at the very least, she has a better idea of what she’s truly looking for in the future.

With her body stretched out on the couch, and both dogs lying lengthwise on her, Loren eventually drifted off to sleep.

With the sound of voices approaching from the hallway, the dogs leapt off of Loren’s body and bolted towards the door.

As Loren stood up from the couch, there were two things she was not expecting when the door opened.

The first was Calle Järnkrok leading William inside while carrying his bags, and the second was William's alarming appearance. His typically bright blue eyes were bloodshot and sunken, with dark circles underneath.

Loren greeted the men softly, taking William's bags and placing them by the hallway. The look of concern on her face was very apparent, and Calle quickly explained that the combination of fog delays and the flight itself had triggered a severe migraine in William. With the shuffling from airport, to plane, to car, the pain in his head had reached excruciating levels. Along with feeling terribly nauseous, his vision was blurred and compromised.

Calle thanked Loren for being there and taking over. He quickly mentioned instructions in William’s bag for his home care requirements as he headed for the door. It hurt for William to speak but he managed to thank Calle, his voice low, gravelly and almost slurred.

Once Calle had left, Loren suggested she help him into bed. William didn’t object, but he before he moved, he grabbed Loren’s hand and pulled her into him.

The same despondency he showed on her doorstep weeks before could be felt in his embrace. Loren gently wrapped her arms around his broad frame, whispering that he should get into bed. As she began to reposition herself by his side, his grip around her waist was firm, and stopped her from moving as he pulled her even closer to him.

She felt his warm breath against her cheek as she stood motionless, unsure and caught off guard with the way he held her. He began to thank her, but instead he grit his teeth as a wave of throbbing pain traveled through one side of his head.

Loren gently coaxed him to walk slowly to his bedroom, her voice sounded both melodic and soothing as she guided him down the hallway.

Passing the guest bedroom, William saw Loren’s bags just inside the door.

Loren followed William’s gaze. Although nothing verbal was said, she sensed his dismay.

Entering his room and stopping at the foot of the bed, Loren stood in front of William, groaning inside her mind knowing that she might need to help him undress.

She instructed him to sit on the bench at the end of his bed, helping him lower himself down. She knelt down in front of him and began untying his shoes, removing them silently as William watched every move she made.

She looked up at him and smirked. “Don’t get any ideas…I’m just down here to take off your shoes.”

William only smiled. It hurt to laugh.

“It the pain still really bad? Can you see anything?”

“Vision’s coming back. Fucking head though…and my stomach.”

Loren gave him a sympathetic nod, saying she’d get him into bed in a second.

With minimal movements, she removed his hoodie and t-shirt underneath. His scent made her hungry to kiss every bit of bare skin that she just exposed.

Removing his sweatpants was worse. Way worse. She scolded herself mentally when she kept glancing towards his concealed dick. She hated the fact she still craved it as badly as she did. It was literally making her salivate.

She gently helped William into bed, leaning over him to adjust pillows supporting his head and neck. Once he was settled, she pulled the covers over him.

The light from the hallway provided just enough illumination to see William's face as he closed his eyes. Loren told him she would turn off all the lights once she got the cold gel compress she brought and a lined bucket to set next to his bed in case he needed it.

As she turned to exit the room, William's hand lightly clasped onto two of Loren's fingers. "I don't know many girls who would look after me like this. Thank you so much." His voice sounded dry and croaky, and Loren made a mental note to get him some fluids.

She looked at William for a moment before a faint smile spanned her face. "Well, then I guess you're Snapping the wrong girls… I bet I could find a thousand and one ladies in 30 minutes or less who would shank their own mother to be in my position right now. Could have them here faster than a Domino's pizza."

William smiled, but his eyebrows furrowed. "I'm trying to say thank you, y'know…"

"You're not supposed to be talking at all." Loren stroked his hand with her thumb, acknowledging in her own way that she appreciated him saying it, but it wasn't necessary. "I'll be back in a sec."

She pet the pooches that had already nestled between William's legs on top of the comforter and glided out of the room. William opened one eye enough just to glance at her backside as she left the room.

She quickly dissolved the electrolyte package that had been sent home in William's home care package from the medical staff on the team. She retrieved the gel compress mask from the refrigerator and a few other items. But as she entered the room, William was leaning over the edge of the bed, groaning that he was going to be sick. Loren quickly set everything aside and went to William's side just for some support. She leaned over next to him and quietly asked him if she should stay by his side. He nodded his head.

After his dry heaves had subsided, she helped him lay down, and sat next to him on the edge of the bed as he drifted off to sleep. Once she heard his breathing slow into a specific rhythm, she moved quietly about the room, disposing of the contents of the bucket and replacing the bag, setting the strong electrolyte mix next to him with a straw, and plugging in his phone.

It was around 4 a.m. when she had cleaned and tidied everything up and decided to head to bed. She turned off all the lights, closed the blinds, and ensured William's room was now completely shrouded in darkness. As she closed his door, he quietly called her name.

She stepped lightly to his bedside, and he asked if she would sleep there with him.

Loren was exhausted and knew he had the most comfortable bed imaginable. She quietly agreed, citing "just in case he's sick again" in her head as an additional excuse to stay.

She quickly got ready for bed. She wondered if she could get away with just sleeping on top of the comforter, but the condo was far too cold for her light pajama set.

She crawled in next to William, asked him if he was okay, and as he nodded, she wished him a good sleep.

He thanked her once again for everything she'd done. He thought to himself how amazing she had been to him so far, and he felt like he didn't deserve her kindness and care.

He moved his hand close to her bent leg under the covers. Just having her there next to him was good enough for tonight.

—

The following morning, Loren awoke to a dog barking. The sound came from nearby, not from the dogs that she felt were still nestled between William and her.

She looked around slowly, getting her bearings. She saw William’s bedroom door slightly open which let some light in from the main living space.

She didn’t want to shift and wake William up, who’s body seemed to a little closer to her than she remembered when she fell asleep.

Turns out, she needn’t worry.

A low "good morning" purred behind her. Before she could stifle it, a soft giggle escaped her lips as a smile spread across her face.

She turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of William's face. His eyes still looked heavy and tired, and his five o’clock shadow had added 6, 7, and 8 o’clock to it too. A soft grin teased his lips as he looked at Loren while laying on his side.

This was not faring well for Loren as part of the getting over William Nylander program that she was on.

She shifted onto her side, pulling up the blankets to cover her boobs that appeared much more voluptuous in this position bunched in her tank top.

God, he is so fucking beautiful Loren thought.

Fuuuuck me….look at her William thought.

Loren peeled her gaze off of William and onto the dogs - Banksy had flipped onto his back while Pablo looked unimpressed and pouted at the end of the bed.

She motioned for Pablo to come up towards her, which he did. Licking her face, she quietly told him how smart of a boy he was.

Hers eyes met William’s again, behind his glasses this time, and she asked him how he was feeling.

“Much, much better. My eye sight seems to be pretty normal…. have a little headache but nothing like last night.”

“Good, I’m so glad - I can’t imagine that pain.”

"Fuck—yeah, the headache was really starting to build in the plane, so I just leaned my seat back and closed my eyes. When we were landing, that's when it hit badly—I couldn't see out of my one eye."

He then backtracked to the point where his recent headaches had begun.

"Pretty much right after I left your place, I could feel one side of my head starting to ache," William confessed.

Loren looked perplexed. "It started right after you left?"

William looked at Pablo and began scratching him under his collar. Pablo's hind leg began to thump as he scratched himself in sync with William's fingers.

"I was thinking about it all the way home. It wasn't your fault that my scoring fell off a cliff. I'm pretty sure I made you feel like you were the problem. Y'know… with the whole distraction thing."

Loren's eyes remained cast downward as she lightly stroked the tufts of fur on Pablo's back. "I don't really remember anything, other than feeling — I know it sounds juvenile maybe but — feeling just really sad. I think you're a pretty good guy… I knew I was going to miss hanging out with you." Loren's cheeks flushed with her admission.

"Wait — just pretty good? Not a great or awesome guy… I only get a pretty good?" William teased.

"Never got the chance to fully find out before you ditched me," Loren deadpanned, followed with a little snicker.

William hung his head in defeat. "Ok — yeah… take it easy… I'm not well…," he smiled.

Loren mockingly whispered at Pablo as he craned his head around to sniff her face. "You hear that Pablo — your Dad can dish it out but he can't take it…"

Pablo wagged his tail at Loren as she scratched under his ears, telling him how great and awesome he was.

She heard William giggle and scoff at her.

William grabbed his phone from the nightstand, unplugging it as he adjusted his body in bed. "I'm guessing you plugged in my phone — thanks for doing that. I actually don't know if I remember much, other than you being here when Calle walked me up."

"You were in pretty rough shape… it was not at all prepared to see you like that actually."

William scrolled through the gazillion messages, finally selecting one to read through. He turned to Loren, adjusting his glasses as he glanced back at his phone. "So seriously, how long do I have you for? Think you can drive me to the arena today? They want to do another check-up."

Loren smiled and turned onto her back, stretching her arms over her head while yawning. "That's what I'm here for… you definitely shouldn't be driving." She looked at William, eyes bright and wide. "You wanna take my car?" she asked, and then giggled. Her car was essentially a shit box and not nearly as nice as William's—for some reason, she was geared to egg him on a little today.

William shook his head and chuckled. "We'll take my car—your car....well, it does enough travelling." He thought for another moment. "You never answered my question… how long do I have you for? And don't change the subject…" he said light-heartedly.

"You said four or five days, so I took five. But I don't think you'll need me for that long… you already seem a million times better."

"Don't get upset at me for asking but… you ok with not getting paid for that long? We can figure out something to get you reimbursed—you just need to tell me."

"I'm okay. It'll be okay."

"Loren—seriously—please…"

"I promise… I got a little side business going....there's been a little extra money coming in lately. So, I'm good… but thank you. Truly… I appreciate the offer."

"What is it—the side business?"

Loren looked away sheepishly. "OnlyFans," she replied quietly.

William's head nearly swiveled off of his shoulders and his mouth dropped open.

Loren's face turned red. "What—you told me once that I should try it—that I would do well on there…"

"Fuck—I—really—I didn't… are you serious?"

Loren looked down at Pablo and then back toward William, before she grinned at his shocked expression. "No, I'm not serious. My side gig is tutoring French—conversational and otherwise."

William looked up at the ceiling. "Fuck… shocked the shit outta me. Ow—fuck…" William winced, squinting his eye and pressing his palm over top of it. "Thanks for the jolt, my headache is back."

Loren sat up. "Oh fuck… oh no—shit—really? I am really—I'm so sorry!" she said panicking. "You see why I never joke around much? My timing sucks…"

William laughed. "Ha—gotcha…"

◇◈◆◇◈◇◆◈

If there was a word that would describe the 2024 Leafs versus Boston series, it would be "dramatic."

Add in pre- and post-game media scrums, plus a camera crew following William at certain points during his illness, there was rarely a moment in his life that wasn't complicated.

What was unsurprising, but perhaps unexpected is how Loren naturally provided a buffer between William and his professional life. There was a sanctity with her presence in his home. She brought warmth, comfort, and offered unwavering and nonjudgmental support when he allowed himself to unload some of the thoughts that clogged his mind.

William discovered the friendship side of his relationship with Loren. She slept in his bed the first night, but stayed in the guest bedroom for the nights that followed. It's not what William had wanted, and if Loren was being honest, she still deeply desired William too. But, for that moment, she did what she felt was best for both of them and kept their reunion platonic.

However, after Game 4, where it seemed all but over for the Leafs — the game where William was caught on camera clapping back at his teammates — William arrived home in an abysmal mood.

Although he was quiet, Loren sensed he was like a pressure cooker ready to pop. The vein in his neck, the one she had once kissed while William gripped onto her from a powerful orgasm, jutted out under his skin. Loren treaded lightly, and gave him time to process how the game unfolded now that he was home.

It was when he grabbed his phone and saw how many notifications there were, on top of the millions he already had, that totally set him off. He whipped his phone at the adjacent plush chair, yelled expletives, shoved some furniture around and paced around the living room, letting every single thought he had — unfair or not — out into the universe.

Banksy curled onto Loren's lap but Pablo stood on the arm of the couch and watched William devotedly. Each time William passed Pablo, he would rub him or kiss his head, but he continued to unleash whatever he had pent up. There was a lot. Far more than Loren ever suspected.

She listened intently. If he asked her for her thoughts, she somehow balanced being supportive while remaining neutral.

One of many benefits of having an open concept kitchen and living room space is that one can still listen to a person vent and make them something to eat while not missing a beat. Which is exactly what Loren did as William let out all of his frustrated thoughts, then finally sat down at his kitchen island as he wound down.

With the sourdough bread that Loren bought the day before, she stood in William's kitchen making him a light meal of Croque Monsieur.

The day before, William and Loren had taken the dogs on a long walk to a bakery Loren was eager to visit. Though she'd offered to go alone, William insisted on joining her. The beautiful spring day began cool and crisp but quickly warmed as it progressed.

During Loren's stay, William had noticed a change in her demeanor. While still kind and caring, the wide-eyed excitement she'd once shown when they first met had dimmed. She now seemed guarded, as if holding back her emotions.

However, as they entered the bakery together, William watched Loren come alive. Her eyes lit up at the sights and smells surrounding them. She looked absolutely radiant—this was the Loren he remembered.

William watched her finish up at the stove, and she plated the French style sandwich and handed it to him. William's eyes widened at the sight of it -- the bread was toasted perfectly golden and the rich cheese slightly oozed onto the plate.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck…" William groaned.

Loren's back was turned as she washed the dishes. Hearing his groan, her first thought was that he saw something upsetting on his cellphone. She turned around with a concerned look, just to see William taking another massive bite of food.

His mouth was still partially full as he rolled his eyes at Loren. "This is so fucking good… like — fuck… oh my god."

William eyed the pan that she was just about to clean. "Wait — could you pretty please make me another one? Pretty please? I'll do whatever you want me to…" William said wryly, but there was a suggestive flavor to it too.

Loren blushed as her thoughts turned sinful.

Fucking guy, she laughed to herself, shaking her head.

After making another, in no time, he was already halfway through the second Croque Monsieur. Loren suddenly felt a grumble of hunger in her stomach. "Think I could have just the tiniest bite — if you can spare it…" she said with a little wink.

William had this look. It was a combination of pretty boy, frat boy, fuck boy, cocky boy and sweetheart rolled into one, and it made Loren weak.

He lifted the piece of bread up and motioned for her to go ahead and take a bite. It had unnerved her a little, with his eyebrow cocked and raised, but she was hungry now. There was a small window of opportunity to look as sexy as she could while sinking her teeth into the sandwich. If not sexy looking, she would at least try for not awkward.

She gently wrapped her hand around his which held the base up, and took a slow bite.

Goddammit — that is fucking good, she thought.

She swiped some crumbs from the side of her mouth while William watched how pretty she looked with her cheeks flushed.

"Wait — there's a bit of mustard still left."

She wasn't sure if there really was or not — she was too busy kissing William back. He had pulled her into him and mumbled something about "being so amazing", and began kissing her urgently.

They remained in a lip lock the entire way to William's bedroom.

There in the low light from his bedside lamp, they undressed each other, their hands worked in sync as pants were unfastened and clasps were undone. Their hands smoothed over each other's skin which filled them each with profound desire and admiration.

They both knew what they yearned for from each other, and neither was willing to try and fight it.

Still, Loren worried about William overexerting himself. She had experienced William's voracious sexual appetite before — it was a marvel to experience his level of cardio and stamina. Given he had just made his first appearance in the playoffs after his blinding migraines, she was not going to be the reason he missed out on the rest of the series.

He pulled her in tightly, her hands raked through his hair as he kissed and nipped her neck.

"I think it might be too much if you…" — Loren's voice trailed off into a moan as William's mouth made contact with her nipple — "…I think you should lie on your back… fuck William…" she groaned.

He was almost lifting her off the ground with the way he held and kissed her.

Loren smoothed his hair as he latched onto her nipple again. "William… please… your head… don't overdo anything… let me — here… lie on your back." He kissed back up her neck, stopping to look at her face.

The way she cared for him was extraordinary.

After he lied down for her, the way she worked his cock in her mouth was indescribable.

But the way she rode him until the muscles in his thighs quivered was otherworldly.

Once again, in the still bliss afterward, William's world felt calm as he lay with Loren sleeping next to him.

The next morning, William opened his eyes and saw the silhouette of Loren's side profile. Her eyelashes, her nose that turned up at the end. Fuck, that mouth of hers.

He could tell that she was awake as she lazily glided her hands through Pablo's fur.

"What are you thinking about?" William's low, morning croak made her smile while her gaze remained fixed on the ceiling.

"Just thinking about your next game. Maybe you should pull a Marchand and go up and lick Pasta on his face. Get him off his game."

William laughed, moving closer to kiss Loren's shoulder. He motioned for her to turn into his chest, knowing how much she loved it there. "Nah, Pasta might like it and try and kiss me back. I think I've been in the news enough lately anyway — don't need anything else for them to write about."

Loren kissed and nuzzled his chest. "I guess. It'd be something to see though."

It was quiet in the room, save for the drone of traffic from the streets below.

"I got a text from my manager at the home. The person covering for me dislocated his shoulder. They could really use me, and it seems like you're on the right track."

William knew at one point she would need to go back to her own life. It was a hard pill to swallow though, after all she had done for him. "Oh wow. Yeah, ok… I understand. Although… I'm feeling a little light-headed, dizzy… and my back's sore — and I've got a toe cramp…" William chuckled.

Loren smiled against his skin. "Oh — okay…well, in that case…" she purred, gliding her hand up his bare back, "you better tell Paul and the med staff when you go in for practice this morning." She giggled knowing that wasn't the response he was aiming for.

"Ooof — okay… was I that big of a pain in the ass?"

Loren reached up to kiss him along his jawline. "The biggest," she responded, her voice just above a whisper.

—

Loren had agreed to drive William to practice before she headed north to go home. The drive to the rink was understandably quiet as William thought about the aftereffects from the dumpster fire of Game 4 the night before. Added to that was the uncertainty of what the future held for the two of them.

As they inched along in traffic nearing the rink, William started to fidget a little, rubbing and scratching his beard as he often did while talking to reporters. Loren noticed it, but remained quiet. She was lost in her own thoughts anyway.

"Are you nervous?" Loren finally asked.

William's eyes seemed like a pale blue that morning as he looked toward Loren. They were still gorgeous she thought, but they were a little sullen. Tired.

"A little. Just don't know what the mood is going to be like in there. Cameras are going to be on me and Mitchy, I think." William leaned his head back on the headrest. "So, what happens next — you know… with this?"

Loren smiled and shook her head. "I wish I knew." William couldn't help but laugh at her expression — her bright smile, biting her lip and with a look of "fucked if I know."

Loren pulled into the entrance of the rink and into a parking spot. Looking to William, she continued her thought. "I guess for you, either you'll be going on to the next round, or you'll be packing up to go home for the offseason. Either way, I am excited for you, and I'm so glad you asked me to come help you."

William looked down and smiled. "You know I'm bad with words, but this time we just spent was really… amazing. The fact you even said that you'd help me after… after I… after things ended the way they did."

"William — stop saying it like you did something wrong a few weeks back. You did nothing wrong. You were faced with a decision and you made one."

"Yeah but it really fucking sucked. For both of us."

"Well, you still get to be you so… I guess it sucked more for me, but whatever… I won't argue," Loren laughed, nudging William.

William smiled and started to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Alright, I'll message you later," he said as he opened the car door and slid out of the seat. He came around to Loren's side, leaned through the open window and kissed her tenderly. He leaned his forehead against hers, and sighed. "Better go. Talk soon."

Loren grinned and nodded, giving him a wink and wished him luck.

As she drove away, she felt an unexpected feeling of peace. It was almost like closure somehow. She had no illusions about William. She had another quick glimpse into his world, and she was not sure - given the chance - if being a WAG is something she would want to entertain. But she truly was grateful to be there for William when he needed someone, and that he trusted her with his very private life.

All Loren knew is that she would return home, resume her life and let the chips fall where they may.

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2024 Day 9

Use someone's parents

I was initially not going to do today's entry but I realized couldn't miss the chance to address Skwisgaar's issues with Servetta. Or, well, one of many I suppose.

Thank you Servetta for helping create this deeply traumatized guitarist that I love!

Skwisgaar walked into the classroom. He could notice the eyes on him, and it made him apprehensive, but he didn’t want to show it. Instead, he just sat in his usual seat at the end of the left, right by the window. 

A group of girls whispered nearby him, and clearly they weren’t being quiet enough because he could still hear them. 

“My mom said his mom is…a disgusting person.” One of them said.

“Yeah, my parents told me not to talk to him.” Another replied.

“I think she tried to sleep with one of the teachers!” A third girl said. 

“No way!”

“Yeah, Ebba told me!”

“Ew, then he shouldn’t even be here!”

Skwisgaar glared at the girls and they stopped, pretending to look away. As soon as he laid his eyes off them they started whispering again, except this time he couldn’t hear them anymore.

He watched the snowfall out of the window, wiping his eyes before the tears had a chance to drop. He didn’t need to add ‘crybaby’ to the rumors about him and his mother. 

Not when so many of them were true, anyway.

–

A group of boys ran away when they saw Skwisgaar coming. Laughing and stealing glances at him, they disappeared into the crowd in the hallway. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened, so when Skwisgaar reached his locker, he wasn’t exactly shocked.

There were scribbles all over it, insults to him, his mother, crass jokes, obscene drawings. Pretty much the usual stuff. He was a little surprised when a postcard came flying out when he opened his locker, though.

It was a picture of his mother from the 1956 Miss Sweden contest. Someone had drawn nipples and a bush over her bodysuit and written on the side: “I came to this picture 100 times last night. And you, Skwisgaar?”

“Oh, my God, that’s horrible!” A feminine voice said and Skwisgaar turned in her direction. 

It was Hilda, the appointed nice girl of her class. She had shoulder-length black hair and big auburn eyes and was staring at his locker with horror. Or, wait, was her name Helga?

“Eh, I’m used to it.” Skwisgaar said, tossing the postcard into the nearest trash can. 

“It’s still terrible.” Hilda or Helga replied with her arms crossed and a judgemental look. Skwisgaar noticed that there was a girl by her side. She was biting down her lip, like she wanted to say something.

Skwisgaar knew that look damn well.

“Is it true your mom slept with Erik from 9th grade?”

“Krista!” Her friend scolded her.

“What? You wanted to know too!”

“What are you-”

“Probably.” Skwisgaar closed his locker with a slam, startling the girls. “I don’t really care.” He turned his backs on them and walked away. 

It was always the same.

–

“Dude, Skwisgaar.” 

“Yeugh?” Skwisgaar raised his eyes from his guitar. He was tuning up by the ear.

“You told me you didn’t have a mom, dude.” Matthew said. He was the curly-haired vocalist of the American band Skwisgaar was currently part of  and he was a constantly smoking weed. 

“Uh, ja.” 

“Well, I looked you up last night, dude. Since you said you were famous in Sweden…why didn’t you tell me your mom was a total hottie? I would’ve so banged her!”

“What? Show me the pics!” Rick, the drummer, yelled from the other side of the room.

“I wanna see too!” The bassist, whose name was something like Ryan, joined Matthew on the couch. “Woah, no way!”

“Yeah, dude…”

“That’s one hot slut!” Rick exclaimed, peeking at the phone from behind the other two.

As he watched his bandmates fawn over what were presumably pictures of his mother, Skwisgaar was reminded of a feeling he thought he had left behind just like his hometown. 

That ugly, ugly discomfort when people spoke about his mother. Made him feel so powerless and vulnerable, even though it wasn’t on him.

Even though none of it was on him.

–

“Yeah, I heard of you.” One greasy manager told him, slinging an arm around Skwisgaar’s shoulder. 

He was at the New Year party of a big label. He had been invited by one of his ex-bandmates because he briefly replaced the guitarist of one of the bands they represented and he would never turn down free alcohol and drugs. 

The only downside was the annoying people that acted familiar with him. Like this jack off.

“Skwisgaar Skwigelf, right?” He said, with a drunk breath. He was a middle aged man, his gray hair slicked back and wearing a couple of sunglasses even though it was night. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“Eugh, rights…” Skwisgaar said, already annoyed by the proximity of the man. He hated when people got on his face like that. Unless they were floozies, of course.

“I actually worked in Sweden some years ago.” The man continued. “Your mom was a total sensation back then.” 

“Ja, she was a bits ofs a celekbrities…” Skwisgaar said with disinterest, mildly relieved the conversation was just boring, rather than uncomfortable. 

The man leaned in to whisper into Skwisgaar’s ear. “They say she slept her way to the top…” He placed his hand on Skwisgaar’s waist. “What about you?”

Infuriated, Skwisgaar shoved him away and left, gripping the drink in his hand.

“Hey!” He heard the man call him. “I was just joking, come back!”

There it was again.

That feeling he had worked so hard to abandon.

He hated it.

–

“What ams this?” Their latest addition, Toki, had been snooping around Skwisgaar’s stuff for a while. He was a bit like a child, excited over everything and constantly asking questions. He reminded Skwisgaar of an overstimulated dog. 

“Mmh?” Skwisgaar kept fretting mindlessly and Toki showed him a magazine with himself on the cover. “Oh, dat ams and olds thingks…when I was just gettingks starts…”

Toki paged through the magazine, searching for the Skwisgaar article. “Founds it! Buts I can’ts reads anyt’ings…” He sounded dejected.

“Dats woulds be because it ams in skwedish.” Skwisgaar said, still playing. 

“Waits! It shouldn’ts be thats hard…” Toki squinted at the text. “En…kommande…gita-gitarr? Gittartala- Oh, it ams too hards!” He started looking at the pictures instead. “Wowee! Why ams dat a pages rippeds of?”

Skwisgaar flinched unwillingly. “Eugh…it has somethingks I didn’ts wanna sees…ja.”

Toki tilted his head, awaiting more information and Skwisgaar swallowed heavily.

“It, was, eugh, my moms.” He tried to say casually.

“Oh…”

The pace of Skwisgaar’s playing increased unconsciously. He closed his eyes, feeling his body tense up, his heart rate picking up. 

…But nothing happened.

Confused, he glanced at Toki, who kept inspecting the magazine with curiosity. “So cool…” He whispered in awe at some picture of teenager Skwisgaar posing with a guitar.

“Yous not goignks to ask abouts dat?”

“Whys?” Toki turned the magazine upside down, confused. “I donts gets this…” There was a cryptic illustration on the page. 

“Because it ams my moms?!” Skwisgaar asked, in disbelief. 

Toki’s stupidly innocent eyes laid on Skwisgaar. “Buts you donts wants to talks about it.” He said as if it were obvious.

“W-Well, ja, buts everyones always-”

“Parents ams hard.” Toki said, and it was like the naivety had left his face suddenly. “And…we ams not thems.” His eyes were hard, as if he wasn’t just talking to Skwisgaar anymore.

Come to think of it, Toki hadn’t really talked about his parents either, had he?

And, instead of the discomfort Skwisgaar had grown used to over the years, he felt something different. Something he hadn’t felt since he was a child, since his mother cradled him in her arms and sang lullabies for him. 

He smiled, embracing the sentiment. “You ams wise for a littol snot-nosed brats, heuh?”

“Ams not a brats!”

Skwisgaar chuckled with fondness. “Thanks you, Toki.”

Toki blinked, scatterbrained as ever. “Whats for?”

Without replying, Skwisgaar looked out of the window. The snowfall was inclement as ever.

But things weren't the same anymore.

[tkwrites]

Love, even in the hard parts. - Quinn Hughes x ofc

photo from pinterest

Title: Love, even in the hard parts.  

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Original female character 

Warnings: grief, mentions of a dead mother, lots of crying, hospitals 

Summary: When his mom can't make it to take Quinn to surgery, Sarah steps in inspite of her hatred of hospitals. 

Word count: 2500 

Comments: This was very much written for myself. As someone who lost both of her parents young, it's often a struggle to find people to relate to about it. A struggle to find people who look for and see pain in others the way I have learned to see it after experiencing it so deeply. I wrote this on a day when I was really missing my mom, and wishing I had another mother figure in my life to give me a warm embrace, or a romantic partner to comfort me through the pain. It's a bit unrealistic to expect someone to fulfill needs without being asked, but that's why it's a fantasy. 

These are the same characters as before, but there's not really a timeline. These are just snapshots from their life together. 

Love, Even in the Hard Parts

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah hated hospitals. Ever since waiting in one, just to learn her mom couldn’t be saved, she felt anxious and on the verge of tears anytime she was in one. 

Ellen was supposed to be here to take Quinn to and from surgery, but her flight had been delayed, so Sarah had stepped in. First, only to drop him off, but upon another text from Ellen, to stay and wait for him to wake.  

Quinn had assured her he could ask a teammate to pick him up, but she didn’t want him to be with someone he didn’t know well. Petey had already gone back to Sweden.  

She’d had her tonsils removed. It had been more than 10 years, but she still remembered waking up and feeling like she’d swallowed a sandbox. She wouldn’t want to be with anyone but someone she trusted completely.  

She had headphones on, and was listening to a romance novel, trying to distract herself from the smell. She’d even rubbed peppermint oil under her nose to try to mask it. Both the oil and the novel were helping, but her heart still thundered in her chest and tears stung behind her eyes, threatening to spill out.  

She’d missed the window to walk outside. Now she was too close to him waking up to leave.  

When Rose, the motherly looking nurse who had taken Quinn back for surgery, tapped her gently on the shoulder, Sarah jolted. Fear rocketed to her fingertips, making them tingle with misplaced energy.

She smiled kindly, “I'm sorry, hon. He’s just waking up now if you want to come back.”  

Slipping her headphones around her neck, Sarah coached herself into standing and followed the nurse into the hallway.  

They were in the VIP section, and it looked almost homey. It was still a hospital, and still smelled too sterile and disinfected, but at least it wasn’t 70 different colors of beige and green.  

“Here you go,” Rose held the door open for Sarah to step through. She’d been so caught in her own thoughts she didn’t think she could find her way back to the waiting room if she tried.  

“Quinn,” Rose said gently, “your wife is here.”  

“Girlfriend,” Sarah corrected automatically as she sat in the chair next to the bed.  

He gave her a lopsided, drunk smile. "You can be my wife for the day," he said, voice gravelly.  

She could see in his face that he was going to be sick before he began to cough. She grabbed the basin off the table next to the bed and held it under his chin, helping him tip his head forward so he wouldn’t get any vomit on himself.  

He winced as he settled back.  

“I was just about to say,” Rose said, taking the basin from Sarah’s hands, “you’ll want to avoid talking for the next day or two. It can aggravate the gag reflex.”  

She took the basin into the bathroom and came out with a fresh one. “It’s very normal to vomit quite a bit after a tonsillectomy,” she assured.  

Sarah nodded, looking around the room. It was bigger than any she’d been in in the past. And far more private. Quinn had a beautiful view of the city through a large picture window opposite his bed. Everything was painted in warm, cozy colors. But it was still a hospital, and he still had an IV in his arm that she willed her eyes to skip over every time she looked at him.  

His hand came to rest on hers, solid and comforting. When their eyes met, Quinn - even in his drugged up, addled state - could see the sadness and fear in her face. It bothered him that he couldn’t comfort her the way he wanted to.   

“Are you okay?” he whispered. No gag came. He would just have to talk quietly.  

She nodded, even though she clearly wasn’t. “How are you feeling?”  

He shrugged one shoulder up. “Thirsty.”  

“Can he have some water?” Sarah asked, thankful to have something to do.  

“Gulping can be quite hard, and he won’t be able to use a straw for a week or so, but I’ll get you some ice chips. Do you want them flavored, sweetheart?”  

He shook his head.  

Rose came back a few minutes later with a cup of soft, pellet ice.  

Sarah helped him get it into his mouth, and he sighed when the cold liquid began trailing down his sore throat.  

Thirty minutes later, Ellen came blustering into the hospital room, a suitcase wheeling behind her.  

“I’m so sorry,” she told Sarah, gathering her into a hug.  

Sarah shook her head, and pulled away before she could get too comfortable. An embrace like that would certainly bring her tears spilling over the surface.  

“How is he?” 

She pointed to the hospital bed, where Quinn was awake, but listlessly so. Sliding between resting and waking to let more ice melt in his mouth. 

She didn’t trust herself to speak. There was a certain, intense jealousy that came over her any time she saw someone else’s mother come to support them. Even if she loved them, it was still hard to see and know she would never again get that same support from her own mom.  

“Quinn? Quinn, I’m here.”  

Hearing his mom's voice brought him out of another stupor.  

“How are you feeling?” she asked, pushing his hair off of his forehead.  

“Fine,” he whispered. 

His eyes sought Sarah in the room. She had her back to them, her arms wrapped so tightly around herself, he could see a peek of her Canucks blue nail polish under each arm.  

Ellen settled in the chair next to the bed. Through the rustle of her clothing, Quinn heard Sarah sniff.  

“Mom?”  

“What, honey?” she asked, smoothing his hair again, “what can I get you?”  

“I’m fine, Mom,” he said, testing the limits of his voice. He had to pause and swallow. It hurt, like trying to swallow glass or a golf ball.  

She offered him more ice.  

He took the cup, but didn’t tip it to his mouth, “Mom, I can't right now, but Sarah really needs someone."  

Ellen’s eyes shifted to look at her son's girlfriend, standing proud and contained, looking out the window.  

As they watched, her hand swiped over her cheek. Even from there, they could see the sheen of liquid smeared over her fingers.  

Ellen squeezed Quinn’s hand and walked over to her. It was just like Quinn, to see someone else's need and find a way to fill it even if he couldn't do it himself. 

When the younger woman turned to look at her, fat tears were pooled in her eyes, and rolling down her cheeks.  

“Oh, Sarah,” Ellen whispered, and gathered her into an embrace.  

Sarah began to really cry then. She wasn’t loud, but her breath shook, and her gasps and cries were tiered, as if she were going up and down stairs.  

Ellen held her and smoothed her hair, letting her cry into her shoulder in such a maternal way, Sarah felt both relieved and sad. Her own mother was never as thin as Ellen, but Ellen’s embrace was strong, keeping her grounded the way Sarah needed.  

“I just miss her so much,” she whispered.  

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” 

A while later, she added, “I wish I could have met her.”  

That brought on a fresh wave of tears that had Sarah crying louder.  

Ellen hugged her tighter, palming the back of her head to keep her head on her shoulder. It had been so long since one of her boys had needed this kind of motherly comfort. This was dually the easiest and hardest part of motherhood. The ‘I’ll hold you while you cry and help you put the pieces back together’ kind of motherhood. At the same time, knowing you couldn’t fix all your child's hurts, or take away their pain.  

It brought tears to Ellen's eyes to think that she could stand in for Sarah’s mom in this small way. 

A few minutes later, Sarah pulled away, feeling more than a little embarrassed.  She wiped at her eyes, and forced a bit of a laugh, “I’m sorry, thank you.”  

Ellen took her by the shoulders, “Sarah, you don’t need to thank me, and you certainly don’t need to apologize.”  

“I just,” Sarah met her gaze, “thank you. Being here has been really hard.”  

“I know. Quinn told me,” she assured, her palm still traveling up and down her back in a soothing pattern. “Thank you for taking such good care of my baby while I was getting here.” 

That night, after stopping at the store for ice cream and Popsicles, and watching the game, Quinn settled into bed while Sarah puttered around fussing over him.  

“You're sure you don't need anything else?” she asked, finally stopping to look into his face.  

He shook his head. “I need you to come to bed.” He patted the space next to him.  

She nodded, toed out of her slippers and finally - finally settled next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.  

“Thank you for taking me and taking care of me today,” he said, his voice strained with emotion. 

She propped herself up with one arm to look at him.  

“I love you, Quinn,” she said as if it explained everything. “Of course I'll take care of you.” 

“I know, but I know it was hard for you today.” 

Her smile was a bit defeated. She wanted to be done with the hospital, even though she knew it was better to talk and process the emotions.  

“Thank you for telling your mom what I needed,” she said, her own voice pulled tight with the memory.  

“I wish I could have been holding you,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her hairline.  

A tear slipped down her cheek. Never in any kind of relationship - friendship, sibling or romantic - had someone seen a need and filled it so quickly, without her having to ask. To find support given before seeking – to find that Quinn was paying attention to her too. It made her chest tight with gratitude, and her voice wobble with emotion. This was the first relationship that didn’t feel out of balance as they so often had in the past. They cared for each other in visible, tangible ways.  

“You gave me the next best thing,” she whispered. “Thanks for sharing her with me.” 

“That’s not sharing, Sar, my mom loves you.”  

She gave a defeated little sigh, “I know, it’s just…" her voice trailed off in that thinking way of hers, "thanks for seeing me, I guess.”  

He laughed a little at the absurdity of her statement and immediately had to throw up.   

By some miracle of physics, he managed to get to the small trash can his mom had set next to the bed.  

Without complaint, Sarah got out of bed, took the bag out of the trash can and to the garage bin. When she came back, she had a bottle of water and a large cup. 

“Swish and spit,” she said, handing them over. He spit in the cup while she replaced the liner. She made him do it twice more before she dumped the contents into the ensuite sink and came back to settle next to him again.  

“Why wouldn’t I see you?” he whispered a while later, after the lights had been turned off, and what she said was still lingering in his mind. 

A sigh moved her shoulder into his chest with a little more force than before. “I just mean… I’m usually the one doing the caring, not the other way around, and it's nice - to be cared for.”  

He adjusted a little to get more of his arm around her. “I love taking care of you,” he whispered into her hair.  

Turning over, she tucked her face into the crook of his neck. He felt her tears on his skin before he heard them.  

He held her and let her cry. From everything he knew about her past relationships, she was often taken advantage of. Doing all the emotional work without getting much in return. She would be the first to tell him that her unwillingness to share her emotions was the main culprit for that. Even after therapy taught her to express herself and ask for what she needed, she always seemed surprised to find him still there when she had a hard day, as if he might run away from her pain. But nothing worth anything didn’t take a little work. It was all about intention. And he loved her and wanted to be with her, so he focused his intention on that, no matter the hurdle in their path.  

For her part, Sarah was glad Quinn came from a family that understood grief. A month before she met him, she had decided not to date anyone who hadn’t lost a parent or sibling. It was just too hard to explain the waves of grief to someone who hadn’t gone through it. Quinn had surprised her, sharing some of his father’s stories about losing his mother when she brought it up for the first time. He didn’t have that first-hand experience, but he was sympathetic, and even once told her he asked his parents for advice when they first started dating. He was all in, and she realized that meant more than anything else. 

When she lifted her head eventually, Quinn brushed her tears away with his thumb. Leaving his hand there, cupping the soft curve of her jaw, he smiled and kissed her gently. “I love you,” he whispered.  

“I love you too.”  

She settled back in again, tucked into Quinn’s side as they drifted to sleep.  

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[dansevilpianotea]

💕Positivity prime time! Share five things you love about yourself, four things you're excited about, OR three people you care deeply about and why. Pass this along to someone whose posts make you smile💕

okay i hope this isnt one of the bots too but because this one isnt just sweet appraisal but lets me yap i am taking the bait.

4 things I'm excited about:

1. visiting sweden today if i manage to get my fatigued ass off my bed lol (i had a post breakfast nap after taking my adhd meds u have no idea how strange that is for me)

2. being back home in my flat where i can sleep in a bed with more than 1 pillow and finally going through all my copenhagen photos / posting my tit preshow footage / catching up on what i missed / archiving stuff etc

3. seeing my uni friends again soon !! i need to ask them when they'll be back but it should be super soon!! i havent seen them since may i miss them so much.

4. uni starting in a couple of weeks and all the events my society is planning for that :3

[butterflyintochains]

Those Who Tried

Just a little fun thing I wanted to try out. Some instances of people who tried - and failed - to sway our two brunet defencemen from each other. Four for Erik, and Four for Kris. No slander to anyone involved here, just having fun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EK - Jason Spezza

Jason knows that this will make him look incredibly fucking stupid. But, sometimes you've got to take the plunge, right? Do the thing even if it makes you look or feel like a complete idiot after the fact. He's not blind, nor is he stupid. Erik is, objectively speaking, drop dead gorgeous, and - for all intents and purposes - single. So, because life's too short, he's gonna do it today. If he doesn't, someone will absolutely beat him to it. This will work, right? He's the captain for a reason, right? So, fuck it. During training, he skates over to Erik, who is re-taping his stick. ''Hey, Karl, can I ask you something real quick? It's... batshit crazy, but, can I?''

Erik smiles brightly, sweeping his long hair aside before putting his helmet back on. ''Sure, Spez, what's going on?''

Jason swallows to ease the dryness in his throat. ''Well, I was wondering if you'd like to go get dinner with me sometime?'' Erik stops dead, brown eyes flashing between disbelief, anger, and something he can't give a name to. ''Like, a date, you mean?''

Jason stutters out, feeling like a bomb has been lit under his feet. ''Well... yeah, I suppose so. What d'you say?''

Erik firmly says, skating away, as if to put as much space between the two as possible, drawing a literal line in the ice. ''No, I'm sorry, Jason. There's someone else.'' Is all he says, it's all he has to say. Jason has no idea who the other person is, but whoever they are, Erik clearly adores them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

KL - Brian Dumoulin

There's not too many people in this league that truly turn heads, make everyone stop what they're doing and admire them. Too many busted noses and missing teeth. But, Kris Letang is not one of those with no teeth and a fucked up nose. Nope, all perfect features, long hair, swagger aplenty, and strength of character. Where that stroke would have retired anyone else, Kris stands strong at their captain's hip every game. There's something captivating about his partner. So, he takes the matter up with Flower. ''Hey, Flower, is Tanger spoken for?''

Flower's eyes blow wide, as if Brian has two heads for even thinking that let alone asking that. ''You really wanna open that door, eh, rookie?''

Brian shrugs. ''Well, maybe? I dunno, is he spoken for?'' They look over to Kris, who is beaming an ethereal smile while texting someone from his stall. ''Dumo, you're a good kid, truly, you are. But,'' Ah, there it is, the stipulation he was dreading. ''Kris has been spoken for for a bit of a long time. I don't know all the details, but he's likely texting his partner.''

Brian curses himself, of course someone else snapped up the best looking guy in the entire league, who wouldn't? ''Fuck.''

Flower claps him on the shoulder. ''Plenty more fish in the sea, mon ami.''

Kris doesn't even register their presence, too engrossed in whoever he's texting with, not even Sid rising to give a little captain speech can tear him away from his phone. ''Tanger, you with us?'' Sid asks. Kris hastily puts his phone away. ''Oh, yeah... yeah, oui.'' He's beet red, the colour harsh against his black jersey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EK - Brent Burns

Brent is nothing if not honest with himself, he's not the regal viking like Erik is, but he has heart to more than make up for it. Still, he's not immune to Karlsson's numerous charms. Or his unfair good looks. Rumour among Team Canada and Team Sweden has it Erik is taken, deeply and madly in love with someone out east. He's been betting with Jumbo as to who it is, and trying to wrangle it out of the swede as well. But, lately, he's been to depressed to even speak to anyone. San Jose was nominally a fresh start after the 2017 playoffs. But, Erik seems plagued by something heavy. ''Erik, are you okay, man?''

Erik shrugs, tying his skates for a training session. ''Just... got lost in my head, that's all.''

Brent asks further, not intruding, just curious. ''Why? What's wrong?'' Erik looks wistful, nostalgic for something. ''It's just, January, y'know?''

Jumbo says, taking the caring older brother route. ''Help us out, Karl, why is January so depressing for you?''

Erik smiles sadly, eyes glazing over. ''Six years ago this month, I found the love of my life. And, six months ago, I fucking threw it all away like the idiot I am.'' With that, Erik grabs his stick, and all but runs out of the dressing room. Wow... six years of a love so deep two entire national teams are gossiping about it, and it's all over? Brent now feels dirty for even thinking he'd be good with Erik, given how heartbroken his partner seems to be. And, how in love he still is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

KL - Olli Maatta

Olli didn't know what to think when the usually so insular top defenceman on his team came back from San Jose practically buzzing with euphoria. Truth be told, no one did. No one in the room has seen Kris this happy in ages, it's almost jarring to see the beaming smile on his face as he strides to his stall for morning skate. ''Tanger, you okay? This is weird.'' Horny asks.

Kris nods, running his hand through his long dark hair, famous league wide. ''Me? Yeah, I'm just great, Horny. Why'd you ask?'' Phil says, looking equally concerned. ''It's just that you look so happy all of a sudden.''

Kris picks up his helmet and stick, and declares. ''I have plenty of reasons for that, Thrill, believe me.''

After skate, Olli decides to capitalise on the legend's happiness, and approaches him. ''Hey, Kris, uhm, can I talk to you a sec?'' Kris smiles, and says. ''Sure, Olli,'' Only for his phone to ring, he answers it. ''I am so sorry, hold on.''

Olli says. ''Yeah, that's fine.''

Kris answers in french, face lit up like a christmas tree. ''Bonjour, amour.'' There's a short pause, then he says. ''What hoodie, amour? My Val D'Or one?'' Another pause. ''Thought so, keep it, it looks good on you.'' Another short pause, Kris smiles. ''Yes, I'm sure.'' Another pause, Kris is beaming now. ''Okay, je t'aime aussi, see you when you come here again.'' He hangs up, and turns back to Olli, who is now just curious. ''Sorry, Olli, what did you wanna talk about.''

Olli swallows, feeling like he should not have heard that half of whatever conversation that was. ''Nothing, forget it.'' He grabs his stuff, and heads out to his car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EK - Logan Couture

First game back from Christmas break of the first semi-normal season since Covid ruined everything. The team have a long flight to Pennsylvania for their game against Pittsburgh. As captain of this team, it's Logan's job to notice everything, even the things no one else would. But, not even he needs to look far to find the only person happy to be flying all this way. He's currently answering a phone call as they take off for the east. ''Right on cue, hjartat, we've just taken off.'' A short pause comes, Erik looks out the window, in what looks to be anticipation. ''I know, first time in a while we'll be able to crash at yours after the game.'' Hjartat? Crash at yours? Huh? ''You wouldn't dare, and we both know it.'' Erik's cocky voice quickly turns soft and comforting. ''Hjartat, I just got you back, I'm not throwing you away over anything, okay?'' A brief pause takes over. ''I promise, it's you and me, right?'' Another tiny pause comes. ''Okay, jag alskar dag, see you really soon, hjartat.'' Erik hangs up.

Ever one for some good gossip, Logan asks his teammate. ''Who's the lucky one, Karl?''

Erik just chuckles, and puts his head back for some sleep. ''You'd never believe me if I told you, Logan.''

That hits like a Chara body check, It's been a while since he's seen Erik so at peace, it's almost too alluring to pass up. But, there's someone else in his heart... someone in Pittsburgh. Logan feels on the cusp of some revelation, but it just won't come to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

KL - Brandon Tanev

Turbo feels like such a fucking idiot right now, they've just beaten the Sharks 8-5 in their house, but Brandon feels like he's been sent on a suicide mission when he goes to ask Tanger after they're back in street clothes. ''Hey, Tanger, team dinner? Maybe some drinks?'' Kris just shoots him an unfairly beautiful smile, the kind he usually reserves for when he's on the phone with whoever he's constantly on the phone with. ''I'd love to, Turbo, but can't.''

Tanny knows logically he should quit while he's ahead, he's been shot down, that should be good enough, but he's an idiot. ''Yeah? Why not?''

Kris checks his hair in a mirror on the wall, and smooths down his suit. ''Got someone special in town, Turbo. Can't miss this night with them, it might be my last until summer.'' His phone pings in his hand, his face lights up. ''That'll be them, gotta go, see you boys later!'' Kris sprints off to meet up with the person from his phone, Turbo looks to Sid, who looks equally as confused as he feels. Tanger keeping secrets from the team is one thing. But, from Sid as well? ''Do you know who he's talking about?''

Sid just says. ''Not even a little bit, Turbo. But, with him this happy, I don't dare ask.''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EK - Lars Eller

Lars has always found Erik handsome, charming too, almost unfairly so. And, the two are quite good friends, so what if things could evolve now that they're both Penguins? Who knows? They could make quite a nice pair, it would be fucking hilarious, a Swede and a Dane. He's noticed Erik gravitating towards Kris lately, always sitting together on the bench or plane, sharing a joke. So, he asks Kris for advice. ''Hey, Kris, can I get your opinion on something?''

Kris says, finishing his gatorade. ''Sure, shoot.''

Lars asks, suddenly feeling as though he shouldn't. ''Do you think I would have a shot with Karl.'' Kris's jaw tenses, barely visible with his beard, but it's obvious. Knuckles white from his grip on his stick. ''Hate to be the bearer of bad news, Tiger, but he's taken.''

Of fucking course he is, typical. ''Really? Who's the lucky person?'' Kris takes to the ice again, a wry grin on his face. ''Take a lucky guess.''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

KL - PO Joseph

''I am so fucking stupid, I am so fucking stupid.'' PO says, slumping down on the sofa in Drew's condo.

Drew jokingly says, scrolling through some NHL news on his phone, relaxed in an armchair by the windows. ''I'm sure you're right, but elaborate, please. I'm bored and want some gossip.'' PO says, taking his hand off his face. ''Promise not to be all judgy?''

Drew simply says. ''Depends on what you're about to tell me, but go ahead.''

PO seems to need to muster up the guts to tell him this, but after some moments of silence, he blurts out. ''I asked Kris out today.'' Drew almost drops his phone on his face. He adores his best friend, he really does, but... what the hell was he thinking? ''Pierre, please, for the love of God, tell me Karl wasn't there.''

PO half sighs-half groans, Drew rolls his eyes as PO says. ''Karl was there. Why is that important, though?''

Drew informs his best friend. ''Because, Pierre, Karl and Tanger are together, and have been longer than we've been in the league.'' PO asks, indignant. ''How the hell do you know that?''

Drew rolls his eyes again, and says. ''Rusty told me when I was put on Sid's line with him. Anyway, that's not important, what did they do?'' PO recounts. ''Tanger just politely let me down, Karl looked like he wanted to throw me in the river.''

Drew just nods, and picks at a chipped nail. ''No shit, Sherlock.'' PO asks, having pissed off one half of the d-corps power couple. ''I'm screwed, huh?''

Drew just says. ''Probably.''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just something fun I wanted to write, Some of the hockey himbos attempts to flirt with or ask Kris or Erik out over the years, many have tried. But, alas, they've only got eyes for each other. Got another TangerKarlsson idea cooking too!

[alleiradayne]

Heartstrings

No, it’s not the title of a fic. Sorry to deceive you. But that’s, surprisingly, not far from my point in making this post. I wanna wax a little poetic about music. And how composers disguise their inspiration (a.k.a. sampling) from other composers.

John Williams is egregiously notorious for this, and say that with all the affection in my heart because he’s also incredibly fucking good at it. But a lot of composers are, we just don’t hear about it that often. Johan Goransson created the theme of The Book of Boba Fett by adapting the a theme from the Swedish film/book adaptaion, Ronia, The Robber’s Daughter. And it’s amazing, it’s so fitting. Folks in Sweden recognized it immediately because that movie (and book) are beloved.

But, I’m not going to talk about movies here. I want to talk about video games. Specifically, two of my favorite games ever. Dragon Age: Inquisition and Elden Ring.

Yeah. I know. Don’t judge me.

Here’s the theme that’s been plaguing me for the last year or so:

The second half, after you’ve *SPOILER* set the Erdtree on fire, buries the city in ash. It’s this version of the theme that has been bothering me, deeply, for nearly a year.

For some reason I recently decided to start playing Dragon Age: Inquisition again. And I was like, “Hey, me, let’s go listen to the Trespasser OST while we’re at it, because it’s my fave.”

And then it fucking hit me like a ton of bricks.

Take a listen to this theme:

At the 1:47 mark, the song key changes to G# minor, which is the same key as the Leyndell theme. And then at about 2:11, the themes blend. Play them both at the same time at the same volume level and it’s hard to tell them apart.

It’s the same motifs, the same chords, the same lead instrumentation with soaring strings and tremolos and a haunting chorus backing it all up. I’m losing my fucking mind, I talked about this with my sibling recently and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. That’s because these are intensely emotional parts of both games. You’re facing down the motives of your party companion, potentially your lover, who mysteriously vanished at one point earlier in DAI. You’re finally getting answers and you have to face the truth of everything he did to achieve his goals, and why. In ER, you’ve just sacrificed a person who has been accompanying you through most of the game to burn down the world’s sacred, holy tree in an effort to gain access to what--rather, who--is inside said tree. Spoiler alert, it’s the infamous “missing” goddess that created the mess The Lands Between has been in for several thousand years. 

You’re very near the end of both stories, the do-or-die battles that determine the fate of the world and everyone in it.

And what better way to captured that ending with a little variation on dies irae.

[perpetual-fool]

Feelings

(12/06/22, 3.1k) I was in the hospital again, with my bad heart. I spent the time just thinking, lamenting my past mistakes.

What I don't understand, is when I imagine what I might say if we met again, the only one I ever think of is her. I've gotten attached to a few people over the years, gotten to know some of them pretty well. I wish things had gone differently, but I don't miss any of them, really. The only one I miss is you. still. It's been so long. and we really didn't know each other that well. I know once I told you that, and you just asked "what do you want to know?". And I deeply regret that couldn't just ask. I was broken, I've been broken. I'm only just now starting to stitch myself back together. You've only known someone who was afraid to speak at all, and later someone who flipped between heartless and thoughtless. I've never really been myself before.

I know that doesn't matter. I'm sure you despise me by now. I doubt you'd want to hear another word from me, even if I have changed. I'm sorry you only knew my as I was. I'm sorry I couldn't be a better friend. Not that that would matter either. Empathy isn't enough; it's meaningless without understanding. And I am incompatible. If I'm not being vain, I think the way you put it was "a light that no one can imitate". So I don't try to connect anymore. That also means I don't need to keep things buried, mostly. Maybe you'd actually like me if you'd met me like this. But then, I'm only like this because I know I'm alone. There's no scenario I can imagine where we could have been, I dunno, anything? I don't have the context to understand my feelings. It doesn't make any sense. 

I'm starting to cut my own path into music now. Did you know I never actually learned to read it? I learned them as finger placements instead of tones. I'm going to need to come up with my own notation. I know I'll have to just memorize letter notation eventually, but it doesn't make any sense to me; seven letters for twelve tones, and starting on C? If it was used relatively, like how people refer to the tonic, third, fifth and whatever, that would make sense. It's like it started out relative and was forced into the role of being absolute. And I think eight years of orchestra trained my ear too well. I know once you expressed.. something, about people not being able to hear that they're not in tune, but how can you stand playing guitar? The intonation is all fucked up. I know it's not just me because there's a company in Sweden that makes adjusted fretboards, and they sound heavenly. But when I sat down an really listened to my guitar, it sounded all wrong. Nothing harmonized quite right, if I moved diads from one location to another they were off. It drove me nuts, I don't know why you don't hear it. Or do you just ignore it? So I'm starting with bass; fretless so I can actually play in tune, and acoustic so I don't have to worry about an amp. It is pretty quiet, maybe half as loud as a guitar. That shouldn't be a problem until I can project with my voice. I'm also working on that, current range is about D2-D4. I thought bass would be good for me to harmonize with, as it seems like harmonies more than an octave apart sound off. Like, guitar and viola sounds a lot better to me than guitar and violin. But also notes that low blend together and sound muddy, as I'm sure you know. So if can get the hang of subharmonics I may want to swap out for a 5 string for that B0. I know I'm getting ahead of myself with that though.

And if I recall correctly, I know I said and did a lot of dumb shit the last time we talked. Like, the bad drawing and such. I know it was bad, that wasn't the point. In part I didn't know what else to do, but if you'd told me "wow, that's so bad it looks like a child drew it with their feet" that would've been.. something? Again, I don't understand feelings. And I may be naive but I'm not stupid. When I told you that I could "make noises" from, X to Y, whatever it was, I know that barely audible squeaks and rumbles aren't useful for singing. Although, I think it was C2-E4, so I wasn't that far off. I thought it was patronizing, but maybe you knew something I didn't, Mrs. vocal coach. But I get the impression you were trying to fit me in some box when you called that my range; normalize what I'm saying into something you already understand.

On the topic of patronizing, I really was trying to be civil. I'm not sure if you took it as damning with faint praise or if I just failed to hide my hatred. This is going to be less civil. Maybe you would have preferred that? It doesn't matter I guess, you're not going to read this.

I can't play shell games with my beliefs. Mundane example: when my uncle tried to push me into guitar I needed some picks, and I chose a pack at random because I had no idea what I was doing. They happened to be heavies. And he told me never to use heavies unless I'm playing bass. But later he told me about this guy who played with a quarter because he liked the tone, and I think he fed me some meaningless platitude about how music can be whatever you want. "Do whatever you want, but don't do that" is not a belief I can maintain; I cannot maintain contradictions. My uncle is either a liar or a hypocrite.

I'm sure your denomination doesn't ride the guilt as heavy as mine did. They joke about it, praying for forgiveness three, four, five times during the service. "How much sinning could be happening when we're sitting in the pews?" But the core is the same. We are innately evil, and nothing we can do can ever make up for that. That's the belief that broke me into what I was. Believing every feeling was wrong and every thought not good enough. I'm sure you'd have at least a dozen excuses as to why you should feel good about yourself again after you take the magic bath. I'm wouldn't be surprised if you even genuinely meant them, but they don't work on me. It would only make me think that you are either a hypocrite or a heretic. Aside, I think you're a heretic regardless. As I heard one rando online put it, "If you aren't Catholic or Eastern Orthodox, then you aren't a fucking Christian". Reason being, you have the impudence to reinterpret that book. Catholics at least have their clergy to claim as an authority, but the only authority Protestants have is the book itself. So to interpret the book as anything but strictly literal, then you are judging it by something else. And you have no right, no authority to do that. I've heard the excuse, unless flames start appearing over people's heads and they all spontaneously agree on the same interpretation, you can fuck off with that. So if you dare decide that, say, "women should remain silent in church" was just Paul being a misogynist, then I think all you really believe in is yourself. Not that that's a bad thing. But I think you could be shining all the more brightly.

It was the mission trip that really hammered home that this was not about doing good, it was about making more Christians. And I don't mean the obvious stuff like: sure it's great that we're donating pencils to the needy children, but why aren't we solving whatever problem that's preventing them from getting pencils in the first place? I mean like how they warned us that they actually used wine for communion, because the people there wouldn't believe it had power if it was just grape juice; outright trickery. Or, when we visited a church in the town, it had bare cinder block walls, sheet metal roof, and a dirt floor. There was no door, no windows, they at least had simple wood benches. But the pastor there was telling the people, that anyone could give to the church. If you have no money, weave straw mats, sell them, and then give that money to the church. Heaven forbid we at least make sure these people have enough fucking food to eat before bleeding them dry. There's a couple more things I could get into, a shopkeeper by the waterfall told me there was rivalry between the Catholics and the CoCs, or why the fuck did they fly high school students to Africa to move bags and scoop cabbage. But I think that's enough.

I'm sure your church did substantially more good than mine did. But again, the core is the same. Any good the church does is just to sweeten the poison. It makes me sick to my stomach to step into a church these days, and the chords they use in gospel music grate on me like nails on a chalkboard.

I don't think I'll ever be well enough for this, but I'd like to go back and do things right. Do some volunteer work that actually makes a difference. Maybe learn sign. But there's no way I could withstand the social pressure. And I don't even have the will to take care of myself. That's why I'm getting back into music. I'm hoping, if I can find something that actually brings me joy, something I can understand on my terms, maybe things could get better somehow.

Ya' know, I never really liked playing viola. Not the instrument's fault. In fourth grade music class they brought in some kids from the orchestra to show off. I liked how the cello and the viola sounded, but I thought the cello would be a pain to lug around. Ironically my next door neighbor who was smaller than me picked cello. We walked home together, I could've handled it better than him. Fuck, I'd forgotten he played at all. I was right about the hassle, but then fifth grade we actually started playing some basic shit, and it sucked. It was mildly stimulating I suppose, but filling out the middle of the harmony is boring. I might've enjoyed it just a little more if they'd ever told us that's what we were doing. But despite that, there weren't many violas in the class, so I felt obligated to stay. The next year there were only two of us. I guess I just acquiesced to the role after that. Then I just coasted. I think past that first year, or at least past elementary, I never practiced at all. The time spent in class was more than sufficient for me to keep up. I guess there was just never anything for me to engage with. The only time I recall being excited for the music was when we allegedly had the chance to play the Halo theme. The viola part still wasn't great of course, but was so.. fun? to hear the piece starting to come together. And then she stopped us and said that we, or was it 'they'?, didn't understand the piece. To this day I do not know what that means, or why it couldn't have just been explained, or why that would even be necessary. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing; I didn't learn music, I only learned to operate a viola. About which I am still mildly upset. But if everyone else was already doing their best while I was running on autopilot, then maybe she had a point. Aside from that, the only thing that ever motivated me was you. I could've sat next to you one more year if Mrs. Smith hadn't doubted me. I finally had a reason to care and there was nothing I could do.

I did try just playing on my own but it really didn't appeal to me. Maybe that just wasn't complex enough? I think at this point my old viola is now a loaner instrument at an elementary school for use by larger kids. I'm happy with that ending for it. But I also feel like it wasn't really mine. Same with my guitars, which I also gave away. I feel they were all foisted upon me. I wasn't really engaged, people just kept pushing me. And, I wasn't really myself. I still like how the viola sounds. And a bow can much more expressive than anything you can do with a pick. Maybe if I ever start writing instrumental melody I'll pick up an electric five-string. The seven-string Viper looks cool but I think a violin might be too small for my hands. And maybe I'd want acoustic too, I dunno.

I'm not sure how I should feel about this, but I mostly don't remember you, what we did. In my self-loathing I've blocked most of it out. A few things stuck. I remember your favorite candy was those chocolate-caramel things. I remember you don't drink coffee, though I don't know if that was because you don't like it or because it's bad for your voice; you had tea instead. I remember the nickname you said only your mom called you. I remember Zoe Jane, The Way, and The Kids Aren't Alright have special meanings for you. I remember you wore that key, and when people would ask if that's the key to your heart you'd say it was the key to your dungeon. I remember you had a cross necklace that would flip upside-down, and you'd get flustered when people said they liked your inverted cross. At least, so you said. I remember we drew all over our music. I remember labeling that one section that was just a long rest "the ninjas", and it still amuses me to remember your reaction when you realized there was nothing there to play after saying "I'm gonna play the shit out of that part". I think that's what you said, I'm not sure anymore. I remember I was too afraid to hold your hand even though you told me not to be. I remember I did my best to give you "the world" for that Christmas thing. I remember we used to talk online a lot, and I remember blowing all my minutes for that prepaid phone just talking to you. I mostly don't remember what we talked about. Maybe it'd be nice to reminisce or maybe it'd just dig up old pain, I dunno.

I remember being too hurt to look at you after I thought we couldn't be whatever we were anymore. I remember I kept trying to sit next to you that trip, but you weren't having it. I remember the only reason I wanted to go in the first place was to be with you. I remember I spent most of the trip listening to this one song on repeat that went "can we be us again". I remember the last stop on the trip was this theme park, and they had a glass blower. There was this beautiful glass rose that I wanted to buy for you. But I couldn't afford it, so I bought a smaller one instead. I remember the last time we spoke you said you still have it, and that it was sweet, and that you care for me. And I remember, since you said it in those words, I didn't believe you. And I remember I said something stupid after that. I remember feeling devastated when I found out you'd probably lied to me about keeping your old name. I think at the time I thought you might've been messing with me as a joke, though now I think it's more likely it was so I couldn't find you. Maybe you were right to hide from me. And despite finding you anyway, I still feel like I should've believed you, trusted you. I remember I sent you one last message that was probably completely incoherent. I don't remember what I said. I probably don't want to.

Not that it means anything anymore, but if you were trying to be delicate with me, polite, that was entirely the wrong approach. I really can't read people. If you'd just directly told me to fuck off, I would have. I know this was never going to happen, but what I really needed was someone to tell me, directly and in concrete terms: what it was I did that was wrong, an explanation of why it was wrong, and what doing it 'right' would entail. At best all I ever got was an assessment of my intentions; some variant of "you're being ___". And that is completely meaningless to me, because that was not my intent. The stupid, simple answer to "how dare you say that" is that no one had told me not to yet. And, if all people tell me is to not say that, all I learn is that I shouldn't say anything. So there's certain things I just keep buried now. Maybe you'd think that's a good thing.

I don't know why I'm like this. I can black out the memories, but not the feelings, I guess. Shouldn't it have been long enough regardless? Hasn't enough changed? Haven't I failed completely enough? Still, I miss you. I hope you're happy. I hope you have a nice comfortable home without any screaming or broken glass or a man who overestimates their ability to diy. I hope my memory is not a bother to you. I hope you still have friends to play music with.

And I presume you don't have the rose anymore.

[wildwood-faun]

cheek kissing cultures have it Right

[couldawouldashoulda50]

From Completely Different Worlds - William Nylander

The Sweden Chapter - Part Three

For @misshoneyimhome birthday celebration - I hope you enjoy this next part. And no rush with this either - I know you are killing it with your training 👏💞

A/N - so this was to be the final part of the Sweden Chapter but I still have more that I want to write for these two so yeah... I will need to do another part to this.

Just a quick note, that this is 10k words. I really try hard not to release these larger stories as readers are busy, and I totally get that. But I couldn't find a natural break in the story (that was obvious to me anyway) in order to further split this up.

Notes and Warnings - goes without saying - profanity, smut (basic p in v, oral - m receiving). I think that's it.

18+ only please.

Camilla Nylander Altelius stood waiting at the arrivals gate at Stockholm's Arlanda airport with a simple sign with two letters colored on a white foam board: L and G. Her young nieces wanted to make a sign for William's friend, Loren, who was coming to visit him from Toronto.

Although Camilla knew the sign was not necessary since Loren knew what Camilla looked like, she thought it was a sweet gesture from the girls nevertheless.

Despite her typical friendly nature, Camilla stayed off to the side of the other folks who surrounded her while waiting for their respective arrivals. The Nylanders are well-known throughout the city and preferred to blend into the background and remain inconspicuous.

She watched carefully as the passengers from Loren's flight began to trickle through the doors. The number of passengers were many, and there were moments where Camilla had to stand on her toes to try and spot Loren as she walked through.

But as the people who disembarked the plane met their awaiting greeters, Camilla grew nervous as there was no sign of Loren.

After 30 minutes, Camilla texted William to make sure that she was supposed to be on that flight. A panicked William responded straight away, confirming that she had texted him once she was in her seat. It was a direct flight, so there were no connecting flights to miss.

William said he would text her to see if everything was okay.

After calls and texts went unanswered and unread, William and his parents were visibly concerned.

Camilla continued to wait patiently despite the knot that had formed in her stomach.

Close to 45 minutes after the plane had fully disembarked, Loren appeared looking a little tired but incredibly relieved when she saw Camilla there still waiting for her.

Camilla cheekily held up the sign, and Loren hurriedly walked up to her, a mix of joy and appreciation expressed on her face.

The two embraced excitedly, and the chatter between them began while Camilla motioned to take Loren's carry-on.

As they walked, Loren began to profusely apologize and explain the reason why she was held aside.

As she tried to explain, Loren also felt her phone buzzing in her purse with incoming calls.

Camilla saw that Loren was getting a little frazzled and overwhelmed, so she stopped walking, took Loren's hand, and warmly reminded Loren to breathe.

Loren did exactly what Camilla told her. She breathed deeply and managed to squeeze in another apology for the delay. William had told his mother about how considerate Loren was, almost to a fault.

Armed with this knowledge, Camilla joked that William, who she assumed was the one calling Loren's phone incessantly, could wait or else she'd ban him from using it altogether. He still had to listen to his mother, she said.

Loren nodded enthusiastically and replied, "I can hold him while you grab his phone." She looked at Camilla and blushed. "I imagine he's pretty stressed right now."

Camilla nodded and draped her arm around Loren's shoulder as they began walking. "He's just really looking forward to seeing you again. And I can see that you are excited to see him too."

They liked each other instantly, and their connection was almost palpable.

Loren continued to explain that customs had flagged her as entering with a tourist working visa. All the paperwork met the requirements and everything was above board, but the officers wanted to look through her suitcase and ask her questions anyway. They even asked to see some of her content and videos.

"They asked who I was staying with while I'm here—I thought I'd better keep William's name out of this, so I hope it's okay that I said you and Michael… that I'm a family friend?"

I really, really like this girl, Camilla thought.

Camilla chuckled. "It's all actually true. You'll be coming to the lake house to stay with us during your trip, and you are absolutely a family friend."

Camilla exuded beauty and grace. She was warm, caring, and Loren sensed a deep wisdom in her.

Never mind William—Camilla was Loren's new crush.

Camilla and Loren chatted on like old school friends as they rolled Loren's luggage through the bright open space towards the exit to the car park.

Loren's nervous excitement looped throughout her entire body.

Seeing William. Meeting his family. Seeing his home. Greeting his dogs. Going out with his friends.

While Camilla and Loren had been talking and navigating the airport, they seemingly missed several calls from William. Camilla finally heard the chime from her own phone and this time, it was Michael calling her.

Camilla spoke Swedish and then let out a chuckle while rolling her eyes. Loren smiled at her but tried to mind her own business as they stepped on the elevator to go to the 4th level of the car park.

Camilla put her phone back in her purse and smiled at Loren. "A certain someone has been trying to get a hold of us—he's been panicking a little bit. But we're almost there."

Loren took a deep breath and exhaled, placing her hand on her stomach to try and calm the butterflies. Loren's hand was even trembling slightly.

Camilla glanced over sympathetically and put her arm around Loren. She said nothing, but the comfort in her gesture spoke volumes.

When the elevator doors opened, Loren's pulse was racing so fast, she had to grip the handle of her luggage hard as a distraction.

They walked past a large cinder block post, and that's when she saw him. He was leaning up against his SUV, a baseball hat shaded part of his face as he talked to his Dad. The off-season certainly agreed with him. He looked incredible.

Loren's breath caught in her throat as they came within view. William turned and half-jogged, half-sprinted towards Loren.

She let out a little squeal of pure happiness as William pulled her in, hugging her tightly. Her feet left the ground as William's embrace was so strong and exuberant, she almost got lost in the moment and wrapped her legs around him.

William leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear. Though his words were muffled, they expressed absolute joy and relief that she was actually there with him. Loren's fingers trailed up the back of his hair as she whispered, "You look amazing. I'm so happy to see you."

After William stabilized her on the ground, Loren looked over to Michael and tried to settle her emotions as she introduced herself. Michael embraced Loren as well, and the two exchanged pleasantries as William put Loren's luggage in the trunk.

Holding the back passenger door open for her, Loren slid onto the seat, unable to quell the smile on her face. William slid in next to her. His cologne must have pheromones in it as the effect it had between her legs was immediate and intense.

If Loren was feeling the heat rising in her panties, William was right there with her. He was thankful that his parents agreed to accompany him, so that he could keep a low profile, yet still be at the airport when Loren arrived.

But God, how he wanted her in that very second. If they were alone, he could have easily found a secluded area, adjusted the back seats, and spent hours pleasuring and exploring her body. From the moment they expressed how much they missed each other in the previous weeks, the anticipation of their reunion was now reaching a fever pitch.

The confined space of the car only seemed to amplify the mounting desire them. Forced to keep the heightening tension at bay, Loren answered more questions about her overall travel experience.

Did she sleep? How was the flight? How was the meal?

As Loren engaged in laughter and further conversation with Michael and Camilla, William remained quiet. He watched her bright and effervescent personality immediately enchant his parents. As the SUV approached the city centre, her excitement overflowed as the beauty of Stockholm was in her line of vision. William leaned in close to Loren, and with their fingers entwined, his thumb caressed hers drawing light circles on her skin.

Every so often, Loren would turn to him, her eyes were alive and sparkled with joy. She radiated pure happiness, and William felt his heart swell with an sense of absolute contentment. The only thing he wished he could change is pressing for her to come sooner.

As they approached a beautiful and ornate stone and brick building, William leaned over an quietly explained that his siblings are waiting for them in his flat. He knew she would be fatigued but he felt it would be best for her start adjusting her body clock to local time, and remain awake until later that evening.

Michael and William unpacked Loren’s luggage and followed her and Camilla up the one flight of stairs to William’s door. Loren smiled at Camilla and took a deep breath. She could empathize with Loren’s nervousness, she felt the same meeting Michael’s enormous family back when they were dating.

Camilla ushered Loren through the front entrance and were first greeted by Pablo and Banksy, both on standing on their hinds legs, clamoring for Loren. She knelt down, scratching and rubbing both dogs while murmuring words of affection against their faces.

William warmly placed his hand on the small of Loren’s back as she stood up, letting her know he’s putting her bags in his bedroom. That felt surreal unto itself.

Then William's siblings approached Loren. Introductions began with his three younger biological sisters, who welcomed her with warm hugs and laughter, playfully teasing William in the process. Michelle, William's half-sister, was slightly more reserved, but she and Loren connected instantly—much like Loren had with Camilla.

Alex was next. He grinned widely and gave Loren a sizeable hug and expressed how great it was she was able to visit. He made a dig or two at William about his golf game and said he looked forward to Loren kicking his ass on the course.

There was only one person who appeared unimpressed by Loren’s arrival. To say she was unenthused would be an understatement.

Alex’s girlfriend, Isla.

Her greeting to Loren was cold and unwelcoming. She barely accepted Loren's offered handshake, and sneered at Loren when she said she was so happy to meet Isla.

After returning to lean against a door jam, she scanned Loren and her attire, she muttered comments under her breath to Alex in Swedish—remarks that were unmistakably snide. Alex scoffed incredulously at his girlfriend’s jeers and ridicule towards his brother’s guest. “Look, be nice. She doesn’t have a lot of money.”

“She had enough to fly here. Oh wait, I bet William had to pay,” Isla said scornfully. “There’s a million girls around here that would suit William so much better than her.”

Alex pulled Isla into a side hug. “Okay, tiger…that’s enough. You don’t know her to say anything like that.”

“Fuck that. Oh shit….she’s going to be coming out with us to Gemma too, isn’t she. Oh god, I don’t want to be stuck with this girl all night, Alex.”

“Isla - c’mon. She came here to see William…not everything is about you,” Alex playfully jabbed.

“Yeah, well - William should have maybe given Margot a chance. Given he fucked her, she thought he might have been interested….. we’d all have so much fun together, and Margot is a way better fit for his lifestyle. If could be him and Margot together tonight at the bar and he can send this one home,” Isla said, flippantly pointing towards Loren.

Isla sipped her drink and watched how everyone was fawning over Loren. They certainly never treated her like this when she and Alex first started dating.

Isla didn’t even realize that she was glaring at Loren, but Loren sure noticed.

As she sat across the room, Loren was baffled and worried at the same time. The exchange between Isla and Loren could not have been much more than 20 seconds and Loren was wondering what the hell she had done to Isla for her not to like her….already. Loren wanted to make a great impression across the board, and Isla in particular, given the boys’ tight knit relationship. It would be a major blow if the two ladies couldn’t find at least some common ground.

She just met you - what the fuck happened that she can’t stand you already? Loren thought as she felt her gut twist.

William's sister, Stephanie, called out to Loren after speaking with Camilla.

"Wait—so Loren, you're going to be working during your vacation? What kind of work is it again? Mom said you were held back after you landed—and the guards went through your stuff?"

William had heard about Loren's brief detainment during the car ride to his place. Once more, he felt pangs of guilt as he reflected on her sacrifices. Loren had just started a new job, and he had practically begged her to visit. The sudden realization of how self-centered his request was began to weigh on his mind.

Since William had implored Loren to visit, he offered to cover not just her expenses, but compensate for her time away from work. And as expected, she refused, having dipped into her Caribbean getaway fund to pay for the flight and time away from work.

A thought nagged at him.

She always seemed to add to his life, while he somehow subtracted from hers.

And yet Loren was interacting effortlessly with his family. Her smile and infectious laughter seemed to help dispel these notions that were infecting his mind.

He had begun to consider that they might be on the precipice of something really amazing with one another, and he silently vowed he would show her the best time in the coming days.

Loren explained the basics of her language vlog, and how her new manager was receptive to her apologetic vacation request. They devised a plan for Loren to do some field work in Stockholm related to those with dual and multiple languages. Getting a tourist working visa was simple due to less stringent requirements for Canadian citizens. They could review the footage upon her return and create a multi-part segment. Her manager even suggested they might reimburse part of the trip if her videos ended up being published.

William's youngest sister, Ella, chimed in, suggesting that since Isla had her own vlog, perhaps she and Loren could collaborate.

Loren looked towards Isla, hoping this could be their common ground. Her smile quickly faded as Isla chuckled, as if the mere idea was utterly absurd.

Loren's personality was highly empathetic—she absorbed energy from those around her. She could often relate to and understand others' feelings deeply, sometimes even adopting their worries as her own.

This is why Isla's demeanor affected Loren to her core. She wasn't used to evoking such a negative response, especially from someone she had been looking forward to meeting.

Loren looked towards Isla again, hoping to find some connection. Her smile faded as Isla chuckled dismissively.

Isla's immediate dislike may have gone unnoticed by most of the group, except for Alex, as she was quite vocal about her disdain for Loren. However, Michelle, the Nylander’s older half-sister, quietly observed Isla's unwarranted behavior. Noticing how Loren's bubbly and personable nature seemed to wilt from her interactions with Isla, Michelle internally resolved to be an additional support to Loren.

Much to William's delight, his family instantly warmed to Loren.

In one moment, he observed his father engrossed in conversation with her, explaining the ins and outs of Swedish culture and cuisine. William heart swelled watching Loren, clearly fascinated with Michael as she listened intently with genuine interest. After Loren was whisked away by the Nylander women, Michael was quick to approach William and tell him how impressed his is with her.

Alex approached his brother and father and the three sat down together and continued to enjoy some drinks and appetizers that had been laid out. Most of the woman had congregated in the kitchen, which was just through an open doorway from the living room. William had a clear line of vision to Loren as she leaned against the countertop, her engagement with the ladies remained effortless.

Alex followed William’s gaze and chuckled at how smitten his brother appeared to be.

“Fuck dude- keep staring,” Alex laughed. “She seems really nice though - fucking banging hot,” he added. Michael sent his second son a disapproving glance.

“I think she’s probably one of the kindest people I know. And yeah - she’s smokin’ but I don’t really even care about that….and neither should you.” William playfully backhanded his brother’s arm.

Michael smirked. He was proud of his boys and how much they loved each other.

Isla’s comments to Alex regarding Loren using William for money remained in his head and Alex decided to cut to the chase. “So - did you have to pay for her trip? You said she’s broke -,”

William was quick to interject. “Bro - I didn’t mean it like that…all I meant is she doesn’t have a lot of money to spend on extras. She works basically three jobs - she’s trying to set herself up so she eventually doesn’t have to work as much later on. I didn’t mean she was broke like that.” William thought for a moment before he continued. “I actually don’t think I have paid for more than a few meals in the time I’ve known her. She’s super fucking stubborn about paying her own way. I actually feel like shit since I asked her to come here. I offered to pay for her flight and she flat out refused. She ended up using money that she was saving up for a winter vacation.”

Alex raised his eyebrows and glanced at his dad. The two were taken aback with what William had revealed. Alex thought maybe if he explained this to Isla, she could back off Loren instead of trying to bulldoze her.

Michael turned to William. “You’ll just have to make sure she has a better time than she would have had she gone away in the winter. Maybe take her somewhere else while she’s here.”

As the men continued their chat, laughter from the kitchen suddenly echoed throughout the room. William watched Loren as she animatedly gestured as she explained something to the group with her special brand of wit. With his interest piqued, he listened in and heard key words of airport, security guard, camera, and the a surprise reference to triple x-rated movies. He smiled to himself and wondered what the hell she was talking about. Whatever it was, she was getting a chorus of laughter from the women.

William loved how Loren just seemed to bring a whole new dynamic to his family and felt himself falling more for Loren by the second.

His mind snapped back from his musings to hear Isla, with her tone bordering on loud, on the phone in the corner of the room. It made him wonder why she seemed to be excluding herself from the rest, but he didn’t spend time worrying about it.

Loren excused herself and headed to the washroom. As she gently closed the door behind her, she leaned against it, taking a deep breath to steadying herself. She felt so exhilarated from the welcome she had received from his family, and just being in William’s presence.

After washing up, she caught sight of her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She was losing steam and felt tired, but William and his siblings had plans to take Loren to A Bar Called Gemma, a cozy and popular watering hole in the city.

The prospect of experiencing Stockholm's nightlife and meeting William's old friends both excited and slightly intimidated her. She was eager to see William at home, in a completely different light than Toronto and to understand more about the world he came from. Yet, she was worried now more than ever about making a good impression, especially given the less-than-warm reception from Isla earlier.

Loren heard a soft knock at the door and responded with a quick apology and that she would be out in a moment.

William’s muffled voice sounded on the other side of the door, asking if he could come in for a moment. She opened the door wide enough for William to slip in, undetected.

His hands immediately grasped onto the narrow part of Loren’s waist. “You’re killing me out there y’know,” William said as he brought his lips close to hers. “They can see why I think you’re incredible, and they’re in total agreement.”

Loren pushed thoughts of Isla and her initial reaction out of her mind. This was not the time to mention her noticeable dislike of Loren, as she felt it would stir up unnecessary drama. What mattered to her the was the warm welcome she had received from William's family and the look in his eyes from the moment they were reunited. The Nylander’s approval and enthusiasm meant the world to her, and she resolved to focus on why she was here to begin with. She came to be with William. He wanted her there with him. He invited her so she could experience his world, explore Stockholm and get to know him more as well as the people who were closest to him.

Loren smiled softly, her cheeks flushed and her heart fluttered with William's words and his body pressed against hers. Loren leaned in, closing the distance between them, and brushed her lips against his. The kiss swiftly became deeper and full of need, but remained brief—a silent acknowledgment that they still had company and needed to wait to act on their desires.

William gave Loren’s waist a gentle squeeze before he exited, while Loren waited a few more minutes before she reappeared in the living room.

The dinner which had been previously arranged and now delivered, was a veritable feast from one of Stockholm’s most renowned sushi establishments. The spread before them was wide array of beautifully crafted sushi rolls, sashimi, and other Japanese delicacies artfully presented on platters with decorative embellishments.

The dinner conversations were lively, with laughter echoing through William's flat's open windows and spilling out onto the street below.

Loren found herself thoroughly entertained as she witnessed, on several occasions, William's siblings treated her with lesser-known and rather embarrassing stories from William's teenage years. The accounts ranged from innocent misadventures to moments that everyone cringed in unison before erupting into side-splitting laughter.

As more sake was handed out, the stories began to take a turn towards the more scandalous side of William's youth. Tales of wild parties, questionable decision-making, and narrow escapes from trouble had Loren both shocked and amused. William, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and laughter, finally decided to intervene with a subtle reminder that he had just as much dirt on his siblings. The laughter was an indicator that perhaps William’s defense was flimsy but after some good-natured protests, the siblings conceded defeat – at least for the moment.

Loren began to clean up the plates and utensils but was met with Camilla waving her off from doing anything of the kind, reminding Loren that she was on vacation. Instead, she assembled and instructed the male members of the family to do the clean up.

The women remained in the living room, digesting the smorgasbord of food they had delighted in. Stephanie received a message from a friend who planned to meet their group later at the bar, and called out to William, asking what time he thought they would arrive at.

Another animated discussion ensued as the ladies wanted time to freshen up and have a few more cocktails before the group headed out. Loren asked what the dress code was, trying to visualize what she had packed for the trip. Chelsea had helped select a number of mix-and-match casual, smart casual, and classy clothing options, so Loren felt confident that she should have something that would look nice.

Isla interjected—she had been sitting quietly, messaging and scrolling on her phone in a chair just off to the side of the rest of the women. "I was thinking—it might not be so much fun for Loren, coming out with us tonight. You know, we start drinking and then we forget she doesn't speak Swedish… she won't understand any conversation. She might feel like she doesn't belong."

Loren felt her cheeks burning. Although Isla's sentiment seemed to be born from concern for her, there was a hint of something else in her tone. Language and cultural differences aside, Isla simply did not want Loren around, and she was making that very apparent.

Isla continued, "We cannot spend the night translating everything—you know, it will be hard for her to have fun, or anyone else."

Alex had returned to the room, followed by William. Alex had only heard part of Isla's attempt to dissuade Loren from coming. William had not heard it at all.

Loren watched Alex say something in Swedish to Isla in a low, warning tone. His statement to Isla was just out of earshot of William.

Isla's response was blunt and mocking and undoubtedly was in reference to Loren. Loren then watched William's sisters and their perplexed expressions as they observed the interaction between Alex and Isla.

Isla's tone was becoming slightly louder and more defensive as Michelle began to intervene.

The situation was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and Loren decided to put an end to it.

Glancing across the room at Isla, Loren smiled warmly. "No, you know what—Isla's right. It's going to be really hard for me to keep up with conversations, and I don't want to take away anyone's enjoyment by having to stop and explain things to me."

William was quick to look at Loren first and then over to Isla. His eyes darkened as he tried to piece together what the hell had changed from the moment he left the room. After getting to know Isla over the years, William had grown wary of some of her behaviors. He was heavily suspicious that Loren's change of heart was likely due to something that came out of Isla's mouth.

Before William could object, Michael calmly reminded Isla that virtually everyone there and in their respective friend groups, spoke English well. Isla was quiet, but made a retort under her breath.

Loren once again spoke in a gentle but clear tone. “I understand what Isla is saying - I can imagine that once everyone has a few drinks in them, it’s going to be more natural to slip back into speaking Swedish. And - it has been a super long day. I’ve loved every second of being here but maybe it’s better that I sit out this time and get some rest instead.”

It actually pissed Isla off even more, seeing how agreeable Loren was to concede to her.

William looked defeated and a little shattered. “I could stay back with you - “

Loren shook her head, vehemently but kindly declined. “You have friends coming - I don’t want you to cancel on them, not because of me.” Loren looked at William hopefully. “Before I leave, we can try and carve out some time for a dinner or drinks - a meal sometime with them, maybe?” She looked at William and smiled with appreciation. “I really am ok to stay back here, and I want you to go out and have a great time. I’m totally okay with that - gives me a chance to sleep before you come back home.”

William chuckled lightly as behind Loren’s bright eyes, there was a hint of suggestiveness only discernable to him. She had a point. Ever since her saw her, sleep has been the last thing in his mind so she’d better take the opportunity while it’s there.

“Loren, if you’re okay with it, I’ll stay back with you. We can watch a movie - in English,” Michelle said rather coolly, her eyes briefly glancing towards Isla.

“We can stay for a little longer too, if that’s okay with you, Loren?” Camilla smiled. “I have so many questions, you might be tired of me by the end of the night,” Camilla said with a wink.

Loren flashed a smiled of appreciation to Camilla, Michelle and Michael too. Given the “girl-talk” that might ensue, Loren wasn’t certain if Michael really wanted to stay behind, but he seemed happy and comfortable as he relaxed the in overstuffed plus chair, nursing his sake.

With the evening plans now confirmed, Isla and William’s three younger sisters ventured to a better lit spot in the apartment to reapply and freshen their makeup. Camilla poured herself another glass of wine, leaning into Loren saying Michelle would be driving them home, so she’s decided to indulge a little.

William found a spot next to Loren on the couch. He couldn't shake the unease about leaving her behind, but his heart also swelled seeing how good-natured Loren was in how she handled the situation with Isla. He asked her softly if she was sure about staying in, and he apologized if Isla made her feel unwelcome and excluded. As tight-knit as his family was, that's not how they operate.

William leaned his forehead against her hair, thinking about how he could take her somewhere and just be totally alone with her. For days. His dad was right—he could make it worth her potentially missing out on a sunny vacation in the dead of winter.

But for right now, he breathed in her comforting and light fragrance, quietly telling her he wouldn't be out late.

—

William and his crew arrived exactly on time for their reservation at the bar. Because of the number of Nylander siblings, significant others and the size of his friend group, reservations were always warranted, especially in the cozier cocktail bars like A Bar Called Gemma.

With everyone now assembled and accounted for, the Nylander group accounted for a large portion of the total capacity of the bar. Knowing who they are, the owner and bartenders knew the Nylander’s would keep them busy with many orders throughout the night.

The bar had clustered tables together for their group, allowing everyone to mingle easily. William sat with his longtime friends, Anders and Erik, and their girlfriends. When asked about Loren's absence—with some concern for her well-being—William briefly mentioned he'd explain later, hinting it was related to Alex's girlfriend. However, he emphasized how thrilled he was that Loren had made it to Stockholm and she looked forward to meeting everyone.

Their lively discussions continued as they perused the menu and the myriad of cocktail options.

William bought the first round of drinks for the entire house. Shortly thereafter, trays of flaming monkey heads—containing Gemma's signature cocktails—were distributed to the patrons, elevating the festive energy to new heights. A rollicking "Skål!" echoed through the bar, catching the attention of many passersby outside.

The bar's owner, anticipating a busy night, greeted William and his guests. He thanked William for his generosity with buying the house a round, and offered complimentary snacks to pair with their creative cocktails.

William sipped his drink and cheerfully caught up with his friends, but Loren lingered in the back of his mind. He wasn't worried per se—his parents and Michelle had already taken a clear liking to her. It was simply the fact that she was so close in proximity, yet not by his side.

During a lull in an otherwise entertaining conversation, William excused himself and stepped off to the side, pulling out his phone from his jeans. His initial instinct was to text Loren directly, but he quickly changed his mind, opting to text his dad to ask how everything was going. He admitted to himself he was fishing for some positive feedback about Loren. He was already filled with admiration for her, but he wanted to hear straight-up from his dad what his thoughts were.

His dad's comments did not disappoint. Though the messages were short, Michael's words echoed what William already felt about Loren, and then some. But hearing the same adjectives about Loren being used by his dad, who he felt was also a keen and excellent judge of character, further solidified everything William had seen in her since their first meeting.

With William’s mind at ease after his dad’s final message about taking Pablo and Banksy home with he and Camilla, he heard a light squeal from Isla. He watched as her slender figure quickly slid off the stool and approached the doors where three of her friends awaited her.

William shot a look towards his little brother, who seemed just as surprised with the sudden arrival of the three pretty, young blondes who were part of Isla’s social circle. Included in the trio was Margot, and upon seeing William, she waved and eagerly approached him.

“Heeey, Willy! Good to see you - wow….you’re still so tanned!”

William smiled in acknowledgement and gave Margot a rather non-committal side hug.

Isla pointed at Alex to move stools so her friends could all squeeze in together, which eventually forced a total reconfiguration of the seating arrangement.

Relieved that he remained surrounded by his brother and close friends, William listened to his brother express his relief and excitement about joining William in Toronto this coming season after signing with the Toronto Marlies.

As time ticked on, the ladies in the group had all congregated together and had become a little more boisterous from the many cocktails consumed. Anders and Erik chuckled as they looked on at their dates, astounded at the number of conversations happening simultaneously.

William, however, was lost in thought. The evening had not turned out the way he had planned, and he was on the cusp of just paying everyone's tab so he could leave and go home to Loren. He hadn't had more than 5 minutes alone with her, which were spent in his bathroom, no less.

William's phone buzzed and his pulse jumped, hoping it was Loren texting him, which would help to lighten his mood. Instead, the message was from a couple of tables over—from his sister, Jackie.

J: Did u have sex with Margot when we were away?? 😬

William glanced over at Jackie, wondering where a question like that came from.

J: I need to tell you something but I don't want them to know you heard it from me. Delete these after.

William, not in the mood for cryptic exchanges, texted back asking her to come over and just talk to him.

With a shrug, Jackie made her way over to William's table, where Anders and Erik also sat. Alex had vacated his stool long ago to join Isla, and it was the conversation between those two that Jackie heard what she heard.

Jackie began speaking quietly. “So you slept with Margot?”

Anders and Erik exchanged knowing glances, their smirks widening as they looked over at William. William rolled his eyes at his friends before responding. “Yeah - once…why?”

“Isla didn’t want Loren to come tonight. She was saying to Margot that she needs to take her shot with you - that you and Margot should be dating. Margot suits you better apparently.”

William started to turn to look towards Isla but Jackie quickly snapped at him not to.

“Don’t look over at her. I don’t want her to guess that I’m telling you this stuff.”

Anders and Erik were enthralled with the new saga unfolding. Alex returned to find Jackie in his spot and motioned for her to vacate his stool. Jackie gestured she would in a minute then shoo’d Alex away.

Jackie leaned into William a little more, knowing she had to be quick with her words. “Isla was mocking Loren - she told us she thought she was so fake. She keeps going with really nasty comments about her clothes and how she looks - Michelle heard her and even said something back to her.”

William clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth

Jackie was trying to remember the most important parts as she could not believe what Isla was saying about Loren. "Alex was trying to tell Isla that Loren paid her own way—that she's not using you for money or anything. That pissed Isla off even more. So Isla said to Alex that maybe she should just tell Loren that you fucked her best friend a few weeks ago. She's twisting it around, saying you made it seem like you really liked Margot. So like—you're probably playing both of them. And—that you sleep with every girl that you can get your hands on."

William was caught between a rock and a hard place. He wasn't going to approach Isla as he knew of her confrontational and defensive tendencies, and he wasn't looking to make a scene. The problem was there was truth in Isla's accusations toward William. He had slept with Margot, and he had, in the last couple of years, indulged in the never-ending supply of accessible women.

William looked across at Anders, then Erik, and then to Jackie. His mind was suddenly clouded with a mix of resentment towards Isla and anxiety about hearing she might try to sabotage what he was starting to build with Loren.

Shaking his head, he knew he had to get in front of this situation, bite the bullet, and just be honest with Loren. As far as Margot, he thought his general avoidance for the remainder of her stay in Saint Tropez would have been a clear indicator that their one evening together would remain a singular event. He was going to have to make sure Margot understood that they had no future together.

William rubbed his face with his hands. "Fuck—what a fucking bullshit situation this is." He turned to Jackie and wrapped his arm around her. "Thanks, my spy. I'm glad you told me. Fuck, I don't want to have to explain this shit to Loren," William's tone was full of regret.

Anders looked at William, his face shrouded in concern. "So, the Margot thing… is—did you—is it like a cheating thing—meaning cheating on Loren?"

"Loren and I aren't—dating… like she's not technically my girlfriend. So, no… I don't feel like I cheated on her, not exactly. But I care about her, and I do feel really fucking shitty about it." William shook his head. "On the other hand, the thing with Margot actually pushed me to call Loren. I kind of realized that—I missed talking to her, y'know?"

Erik tossed an ice cube around inside his mouth and then crunched down on it. "Bro—that's a bit messed up. But—I wouldn't put it past Isla to tell Loren—I think she likes to just lob a grenade into the middle of something and watch the chaos. You'd be better off telling Loren yourself and just hope she'll accept it for what it is."

"Yeah, use the Nylander charm that you claim you have," Anders scoffed, teasing his friend.

Jackie's exaggerated roll of the eyes made the men around the table chuckle. "The girls got all the charm. And the looks. And the hair. All the boys have are their appendages that keep getting them into trouble," Jackie said dryly before William feigned putting her in a headlock.

"Are you going to say anything to Isla?" Erik asked, unsure of what he would do in the same situation.

William rubbed his beard, gently at first but then a little more forcefully out of frustration. "Fuck. I want to. But I've heard her and Alex get into it after he's tried to call her out—like posting private shit on TikTok… and man, it's like a fucking war. I'm just more concerned about Loren right now."

One thought remained which he kept to himself. Fuck—here you go again. She comes all this way to see you, and you're going to end up hurting her all over again.

—

William arrived home just after midnight, his social battery completely drained. Save for hum of his climate-control system, his flat was silent and he immediately missed Pablo and Banksy excited greeting.

Entering his bedroom, he saw Loren in his bed, her face slightly illuminated from the street lamps which towered along the sidewalks outside his window. He had seen her in states of exhaustion after long shifts at the group home, lightly snoring and mouth agape. Although he would chuckle at her endearingly comical appearance, he still thought she was ravishing.

Tonight, she looked ethereal, her luminescent tanned skin, dotted with the freckles along her cheekbones, the same ones he had tenderly kissed many times.

He climbed into bed and slid next to her, pressing his lips against her warm skin. With her eyes still closed, she began to smile. In a move so fluid it seemed choreographed, she turned towards him and pulled their bodies together, limbs soon intertwining. The embrace was more than physical. It was a culmination of so many emotions that ran deeper than either of them could find the words for.

For William, it was the reminder that Loren often sensed what he needed before he even knew himself. Her hand that caressed the ridges of his back and shoulder muscles found its way to first his face, and then his hair. She kissed him tenderly under his chin and along his jawline as he pulled her towards him even further. A lazy smile spanned her face as she opened her eyes and absorbed every one of his beautiful facial features.

William slid his body down slightly which allowed him to nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck. Loren wasn’t complaining, but the way in which he held her - it resembled something different.

His lips tickled her neck as he spoke in a low, gravelly tone. “How was tonight? How did everything go?”

He smiled against her skin as he felt her trying to contain her giddiness. “William, I just - holy shit - I cannot begin to tell you how much I love your family. Like - ,” Loren paused, trying slow her mind down so her mouth could catch up with her thoughts. “I guess I see why you are they way you are. I really - I mean, no offense because it would have been amazing to go out with you - but I had such a great time with them here.”

Loren pressed her lips along William’s hairline. “How was the bar? Did you have a fun time?”

He nodded his head slightly. “It was ok. Wished you were there,” he said quietly, lifting his head up to look at her.

William looked like something was weighing on him as Loren studied his weary expression and tired eyes. She stroked his stubble just under his jawline and gave him a reassuring smile. "I know it's late, and I'm not trying to pry, but I'll listen if you want to talk," she said softly.

He looked into her dark eyes, adorned with long thick eyelashes and he wondered how he could possibly shit on Loren’s parade already.

With it being almost 1am, he was still wrestling with one question that he had in his mind for hours.

Does Loren need to know about Margot - tonight?

His silent retort was firm. You cannot drag this on. You cannot spend days with her, have sex with her, and then tell her about Margot.

William hesitated for another moment and then took a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m not sure where to begin - and I’m so sorry to even have to tell you this at all, let alone when you’ve basically just gotten here. But - Isla didn’t want you to come tonight, because she invited a friend of hers to see if her and I could make something happen.”

Loren’s insides flinched and her pulse quickened. Her stoic expression belied how her stomach suddenly twisted and her racing mind. Judging from the look of regret on his face, William wasn’t done either.

His crystal blue eyes fell downward to the pendant fixed to the delicate chain around Loren’s neck. “This friend - Isla’s friend - Margot….her and I had sex while she was staying with us in Saint Tropez.”

Loren’s eyes trailed down William’s face as she processed his words. A short breath escaped her mouth as she pictured William in bed with some Nordic stunner. Loren bit her lip and looked away, trying to find something to focus on. So she chose the small, fine hairs on William’s shoulder. She found them oddly comforting.

She listened to William as he explained what he realized about his feelings for her after Margot left his room. It was the shove he needed in order to reach out to her, and having Loren there now means so much to him.

Loren remained silent for a long moment, her fingers that had been tracing patterns on William's skin now lay motionless. The warmth and security that was present just moments before faded quickly. Although she understood his explanation, and all the layers of their situation, she couldn't shake the sharp sting that accompanied his confession.

As the moments passed, a dull ache formed in her chest. William and Loren and what they were - or weren’t - had never been defined. The ambiguity of it all meant there were no boundaries in which either of them had to be accountable to. This arrangement was one that seemed tailor-made for William’s lifestyle, but Loren knew in her heart, it didn’t suit her at all. The gap between having reasonable expectations and their mutual desires now lay before them and was impossible to ignore.

Loren’s eyes reconnected with William’s. Her gaze, which had sparkled with adoration and excitement moments before, was now filled with uncertainty and the internal ache that goes along with it.

William started to apologize again, but Loren interrupted. “Do…you have feelings for Margot? I mean, I know - I appreciate your honesty but I guess I'm a little confused why Margot is the one girl you're telling me about?”

William quickly read between the lines. Loren assumed there had to be other women he's slept with throughout the offseason, and her question to him hit hard, because she wasn’t wrong.

“No, I don’t. I know how this might sound but I guess - I was lonely, or thought I was.” He knew he had to be transparent and honest despite how guarded he could be with his emotions. Loren deserved to hear how he feels about her.

And so he began, hoping he wouldn’t sound too corny or over the top.

“We didn’t spend the night together. I know how this can make me sound…like a player - like someone who just fucks around all the time. But the minute she left my room, you were the only person on my mind. It just hit me - felt like a punch in my stomach…when I realized just how badly I wanted to see you….so I had to message you.”

Loren lay there recalling the night he messaged her weeks ago. She replied back, and soon they were engrossed on a video call. After a few vodka coolers, she didn't remember much of what they spoke about, other than her glasses. He REALLY liked her in glasses. He gave her a certain look that only William could. It was comically frustrating to Loren, how, by just looking at her, the pressure between her legs could immediately be felt. She wasn’t complaining though. She gave herself two hardcore orgasms that night as she pictured him, with that face, fucking her hard.

She stifled a smile and continued to listen intently as William

William didn’t want to push his luck, but he needed to touch Loren. He lightly placed one hand on hers while his thumb stroked hers. “The thing is - the reason I’m telling you about her is Isla. She got it into her head that I should have given Margot more of a chance. I mean, I kind of went off and did my own thing for the rest of the time she was at the villa so I didn’t interact with her much. I don’t know what went on but I guess when Isla found out you were coming, she made this last run at pushing Margot and I together.”

Loren fought the urge to not to roll her eyes at the notion of Isla’s interference, but Jesus. What the fuck.

“So tonight, Isla was pretty drunk and was kind of saying a lot of shit that’s not worth repeating. She thought she might need to tell you about Margot - “

“Fuck - William….how can she dislike me this much already? I mean - I’m not for everyone but Jesus…give me a chance first, then she can hate me all she wants.”

William tried not to chuckle but Loren and her self-deprecation always made him laugh.

“I didn’t mean to sound so ‘why doesn’t she like me’ but - wait …is she going to show up with a fucking pitchfork and run me out of Stockholm all by herself?”

William’s eyes floated across her face and absorbed her exquisite features. “Fuck that - and by the way, you were amazing with how you handled everything. Even with me leaving you here too - I still can’t believe how bad that sounds - I left you here on your first night...”

“I think I had a far better night that you did so I guess...thanks for ditching me…”

William hung his head in mock defeat.

A long silence hung between them before William leaned towards her in a slow and deliberate motion. He lips kissed her softly, almost tentatively as though he was testing the waters between them.

Loren felt unsettled given the information and events that had transpired on her first day in Stockholm. Perhaps she felt this way about William too, as much as she did not want to admit it.

A battle raged in her mind between letting go of her concerns and retreating into self-preservation mode.

William began noticed that Loren’s kiss and touch was less eager, less enthusiastic than usual. He grew anxious with worry that there was far more going on behind the even-keeled front she put up.

William broke from their kiss, his hand slid under the nape of her neck and gently grasped a handful of her hair. He rested his forehead against hers not knowing what to say or do.

“Are you - I mean fuck…this hasn’t gone the way I wanted it to…but are you okay - like okay with me? I hope you’ll forgive me for what’s hap-,”

“William….you haven’t - why are you asking for forgiveness from me?” Loren consoled, while being genuinely perplexed. “You are 100% free to do what you want and be with whomever….I know I’m not anything to you…”

Loren’s eyes grew wide with her poorly chosen words. “Wait, no….that came out wrong….that’s not what I meant….” As soon as she said the words, the dejected look on William’s face nearly shattered her heart. “I’m sorry - I think I’m just super tired…I’m not thinking straight…”

He could see her struggling to stay awake, her eyes looking more bleary with each second. “Okay - yeah…we’ll just leave it. Sleep on it.” William pressed his lips against Loren’s. He wanted to feel her so badly and yet somehow, everything he had hoped for and wanted seemed suspended indefinitely.

Loren fell asleep almost immediately on her back, which prevented William from nestling in behind her as he usually did. He expelled a deep sign, turned onto his stomach and waited until sleep found him.

—

As Loren slowly regained consciousness after a long, much-needed sleep, her eyes gradually focused on the surroundings of William's bedroom. Still on her back, she lay motionless, her gaze fixed on the curtained windows that filtered the bright morning sun. A gentle smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth. The memory of last night's conversation had faded, replaced by a renewed sense of excitement and anticipation for the days ahead.

With little disturbance, she turned onto her side to face William, who remained sleeping on his stomach.

He looked ridiculous and perfect with his matted blonde hair sticking up in all directions against his pillow. His trimmed mustache, which was both polarizing and popular with so many females, was surrounded by stubble which seemed to grow thicker by the minute. His lips were smooshed firmly against the pillow, forcing them to part, allowing light snores to escape.

The longer she gazed at him, the more she could imagine the feeling of him inside her. The blissful intensity of wanting him grew rapidly, and with the decision to go with it and not fight it, she slid out of bed to freshen up.

When she returned to the bed, William had flipped onto his back. His body mostly uncovered and his legs slightly splayed, Loren could see a burgeoning erection tenting his shorts. The images it conjured in her mind made her salivate.

On one hand, she didn't want to disturb his sleep, knowing how much he treasured his rest. But it had been months since she last spent time with him, time which was shrouded with the noise of the playoffs and the team's eventual defeat.

Carefully reentering the bed, William groggily motioned for Loren to come towards him. She gracefully crawled over to him and pleasantly surprised him with soft, open-mouthed kisses on his neck. He groaned as her mouth began to travel further down, across his chest, kissing and tonguing his nipples. Loren slowly climbed on top of him, pressing her throbbing need against his cock.

Looking down at William’s face as he turned to look at her, daylight illuminated the turquoise in his eyes - making him that much more irresistible - and she began lowering her mouth to his.

“Mmm….Loren, I’ve got morning breath - you don’t want that…,” William said, his voice still sounding husky from just waking up. He playfully gave her ass a little squeeze.

Loren smiled as she lowered her mouth once again, this time close to his ear. “Nylander’s don’t get bad breath…” she purred softly.

She kissed a line back towards his mouth. He didn’t stop her this time.

Loren kissed him with a fierce yearning, as months of pent up emotions took the form of intense passion. Her raw display of emotion which she no longer could suppress unleashed a whole new level of desire in William.

With the thin layer on fabric between them wet with arousal, Loren rubbed and grinded her pussy firmly against William’s shaft. He was beyond aroused and worried he might cum far too early, as he desperately wanted to feel her bouncing and grinding hard on his cock. He gripped her ass cheek once again - but something else inside of him took over for a moment and he firmly smacked her ass. Her mouth fell open with a air of surprise, followed by smirk so seductive he had bite the inside of his cheek to try and quell the urge to cum.

William’s arms enveloped Loren as she continued to grind on his cock. “Fuck - Loren - I’m too close…you gotta get on it…I wanna cum inside you,” William groaned desperately.

William released his hold around Loren’s torso and she sat up, fully straddling William. His eyes focused on the puddle mark on her cotton underwear.

He had to bite his cheek again.

She shimmied a little towards his thighs, pulling the waistband of his shorts down. The smile that his exposed cock evoked on Loren’s face was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen.

She slid her own panties off and cast them aside before she fully engulfed his cock in her mouth. She heard William chanting her name - leading to pleas for her to fuck him - that he was dangerously close to cumming.

For William, Loren had always exuded something he had rarely seen before. It was part of the lore in various songs - a demure and elegant woman to the outside world versus a total uninhibited spitfire in the bedroom. She just kept getting better, more confident and somehow remained soft and seductive.

William guided Loren back into position atop him, swiftly aligning himself with her entrance. She eased down his length in one fluid motion, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she adjusted to his impressively thick girth.

William's mouth fell open as Loren's tightness gripped the length of his shaft as she began to ride him. His hands pushed up the thin cotton fabric to expose her bouncing tits—a sight he could never get enough of. Loren moaned loudly as she arched her back, spreading her legs wider as her arousal began to seep down his shaft and drip off his balls.

The sensations were so intense that Loren all but collapsed onto William as he took over bucking his hips, driving hard into her. Her forehead was pressed into the pillow and her breath was hot against William's neck. Wrapping one arm around her waist and snaking the other to lightly grip the back of her neck, he continued to fuck her until her eyes were literally crossed.

William grunted and bucked and soon called out that he was about to cum while gripping Loren's ass hard. As he did, she pushed down and grinded back and forth on his cock, covering her mouth to stifle a shriek as clear fluid shot and sprayed out all over his cock. Seconds later, he pressed his cock deep within her and coated her walls as he twitched and spasmed with each release.

They lay there, still intimately connected in their blissful aftermath, barely able to form coherent thoughts. It seemed the only words either could muster were a breathless "Holy fuck."

After a few more moments, as the euphoria became manageable and Loren regained her ability to form basic sentences, William coaxed her out of bed and into the shower. What could have been a quick 20-minute rinse turned into a leisurely 40-minute affair. They spent most of their time—and the hot water—standing still, exchanging long, delicious kisses while their hands roamed each other's bodies.

This was exactly the kind of start William had hoped for—even better than he could have imagined. He was determined to show Loren the most amazing experiences and give her the time of her life, just as she deserved.

[purplehoodiesimon]

i made the new york model simon x plant boy wille post that edvin liked on twitter the other day and fyi i made it hoping someone (you especially because you’re such a great writer) would write something about it 👀

1. Ahkdfjdsklfjdsfkljdslk thank you💜💜💜 oh my god thank you.

2. Here's the link to the post y'all

3. This took me a few days to do and it's not much but I hope you like it! I assume you're familiar with my various Wille hcs if you know my writing, so I decided to write one of the loves of my life into this—nonverbal Wille. 💜

Dialogue: Swedish, Spanish, Swedish sign language

-

Wille steps into the New York apartment, dropping his keys in the bowl by the front door. He's had a long day at work and he wants nothing more than to crawl in bed with Simon and hold his boyfriend in his arms as he falls asleep.

Unfortunately, Simon is still at a shoot. He said it would go late this morning, and that was fine then. In the hours since though, Wille has had no less than four bitchy customers, eight emergency please-forgive-me extravagant rose bouquets, six dropped pots, and the counter orchard is being temperamental again. Wille spent all afternoon trying to figure out what was wrong with the little guy. It's not too much sunlight, it's not too little sunlight, it's got the right amount of fertilizer and water. It's just decided to wilt all of the sudden. Maybe it didn't like the first bitchy customer he had today and that's what's making it act up.

Wille sighs as he drops down on the bed, grabbing Simon's pillow and curling around it, inhaling deeply. The scent of sandalwood and lavender surrounds him as he hugs it tightly, trying to replace it with Simon in his mind.

If Simon were here at the moment, his arm around Wille would feel like that. And his lips would feel like this. And he'd feel warm and comforting, as he always does. Maybe he'd talk to Wille, softly whispering about his day and asking Wille about the temperamental orchard. Their hands would be intertwined, legs slotted together as Simon holds him. His fingers stroking Wille's hair and Wille's head tucked under his chin, where it belongs. Simon's arms are always so safe, and Wille's day has been so shitty that he longs for them, like he was as a teen pining over Simon from afar.

Wille is so caught up in trying to picture Simon in bed with him that he completely misses the sound of the front door opening.

And then the bed dips and it's real. Simon wraps himself around Wille from behind and Wille rolls over, burying his face against Simon's chest and clinging to him like Simon is the last plank of wood on a sinking ship. To his horror, he feels his throat choke up, eyes stinging as Simon gently strokes his hair in the exact same way Wille was just imagining.

"Hur mår du?" Simon asks, quiet and comforting, and Wille shakes his head, wrapping his arms tighter around Simon's waist. "Okay. That's okay cariño. Do you want me to sing?"

Wille nods, and Simon starts up a small tune, some Spanish lullaby that Wille knows he's heard Simon sing before. He's too tired to process the words though, to figure out their meaning from the minimal Spanish he knows. When they decided to move to New York a few years ago, after Simon's modeling career really took off, he had no idea running a florist shop would be this much work. It's nice that he could take his hobby and turn it into a lifestyle, and he knows Simon secretly loves all the plants in their apartment despite how much he complains about it. But god, it's so much work dealing with New Yorkers.

Simon trails off for a second, pressing a quick kiss to Wille's forehead, before starting up again with a new song. Wille can feel the tension starting to bleed out of him as Simon's voice soothes the quiet upset clenched around his heart. Simon's arms are his home, they always have been. It doesn't matter how far they are from Sweden, how frustrating his day has been. Wille knows he'll always find his home in Simon's arms.

He shifts back at the end of the second lullaby, just enough to put a small gap between their bodies, and brings his hands up in front of Simon's face so he can see them as Wille signs, "I'm doing better, thank you."

"Good." Simon smiles, leaning in to drop a light kiss on the tip of Wille's nose. He giggles, covering his face with his hands for a second before pulling Simon into a proper kiss. Simon tastes like cherry chapstick and buttercream frosting and it's such a strange mix but Wille is addicted to it—addicted to the taste of Simon underneath his tongue.

It takes so much effort for Wille to break the kiss, pulling back to ask, "Why are you home early?" Simon said it would go until 7PM at the earliest and it's barely after 4PM.

"The man directing the shoot had..." Simon pauses, his nose adorably scrunching as his hands waver, looking for the right words. He sighs, dropping his hands and switching back to Swedish. "He had a family emergency. We got let go early."

Wille hums, a small acknowledgment, and wraps his arms around Simon again. He want to stay here for a while, wrapped up in his boyfriend and letting the day's anxiety and stress melt away. He hitches a leg over Simon's waist, molding their bodies together, love dripping through his chest like a honeystick over his heart as he feels Simon relax against him.

He's starting to grow a little sleepy, the edges of his reality fuzzing as the burnt-out fear response he's been under all afternoon makes way for a deep seated exhaustion. His limbs feel like lead and he has no idea how he's going to get up to make dinner in a while, but it doesn't matter. Simon knows to let him sleep when he needs it.

Wille folds his fingers into the ILY sign from ASL—not the same as Swedish sign, but pretty universally known at this point—and presses it against Simon's back as his eyes slide shut. Simon's nose bumps Wille's head as he drops light kisses on Wille's forehead, whispering a quiet, "I love you too," in return between each one.

And safe in Simon's arms, Wille finally falls asleep.

-

Note: I am ASL student, I do not know Swedish sign. This features my hc of Wille being autistic and nonverbal. You can read my other story about him here.

[autistic-lalli]

this one’s more of a fic idea than an analysis ask, but what do you think Onni’s POV during adventure 1 would be like if we’d seen more of it?? What was the lad thinking the whole time???

-endearingsalt

In a word or two? Guilt and anxiety.

Onni is painted as this timid, afraid older brother who stays behind out of fear, but that’s not actually that accurate. Yes, Onni stays behind—but then he leaves, on his own, to catch up with the Västerströms in Sweden. Onni, who hasn’t left Keuruu in the last ten years, and hasn’t left Finland ever, ventures out alone.

The interesting thing, though, is that Onni’s entire plotline is pretty stationary, from a purely physical perspective. He has plenty of movements and character moments in the dreamsea, but that’s about it. He spends the vast majority of the adventure just... in the Västerström’s house. (And a good chunk of that he spends in just one room, considering he sleeps on the couch by the radio.)

It’s easy to miss because we don’t see much of Onni’s POV, but Onni and Lalli are distinct foils of one another. Onni faces many of the same choices and hardships as Lalli; Onni is simply the darker outcome.

Let’s start with that physicality: Onni leaves Keuruu, yes, but then plants firmly for the majority of Adventure 1. He doesn’t even leave his dreamspace all that often, comparatively—only when absolutely necessary (I can think of... two instances off the top of my head? When he rescues Lalli and also when Reynir takes him to see Pastor A. Maybe there’s one more.)

Lalli, meanwhile, leaves for the expedition, and also spends a surprising (and perhaps unwise) amount of time outside his area in the dreamsea.

Zooming out, we find more parallels between Onni and Lalli. They experience the same kinds of isolation; it’s just less visible in Onni’s situation.

(Actually, Onni’s experience also fits into the language barrier as a metaphor for neurodivergence paradigm, I just didn’t talk about him in that post. And he also fits nicely into this whole framework as well.)

Onni speaks Icelandic, but it’s not his first language—we know that he has a heavy accent, doesn’t read or write well in Icelandic, and overall seems to struggle with it. So, while he can communicate with the team in Sweden, it doesn’t come easily. Onni and Lalli both experience isolation, and a great deal of that isolation is built into the situation by virtue of intelligibility.

Taking it one step further, Onni and Lalli also experience the same kind of doubt and... almost microaggressions? Because of their magic abilities. No one else around Onni understands his history, no one understands what Onni does, and so no one takes him seriously. Yes he cries, yes he meditates, yes he can talk to Lalli without the radio, he is traumatized and sees ghosts just leave him alone!!

But this defense mechanism works a little too well. We don't see much of Onni's day-to-day during Adventure 1, but, even in those highlights, Onni is largely left alone. His physical needs are taken care of, but does he engage in the emotional and social support of the household? Absolutely not. I give Taru and the Västeströms enough credit to have offered emotional support, someone to talk to, but one, any help offered would be deeply ineffective by virtue of the situation and the people involved, and two, do you think Onni would be even remotely vulnerable with people who are basically strangers? Absolutely not.

So. We've established that Onni and Lalli are foils. They come from similar trauma, have similar skills, and similar weaknesses. (With this relationship there's also a foil point to be drawn between Emil and Reynir in relationship to their respective Finns, but that's a much more divisive post.) But all of this means nothing in the face of the most important difference between Onni and Lalli:

Lalli is ready to change, Onni is not. This is a harder thing to point to directly, because it’s mostly the lack of rather than the presence of something. But, while Onni has his moments of bravery, he is still very afraid, and that fear drives his actions. He’s afraid of change. And, in the end, letting go of his grief and trauma is change. Recovering from mental illness can be terrifying, because it’s a shift in reality. It’s unfamiliar and painful in a new way.

BUT your ask was about Onni's POV in Adventure 1. Taking all of the above, what can we conclude about Onni's subtext and journey?

In a word or two? Guilt and anxiety.

Anxiety because he's not there, and the Kade makes things more difficult and restricts both his and Lalli's movements. Anxiety because this is the first time he's ever been separated from Tuuri and Lalli since they were in quarantine after Saimaa. Anxiety because he thinks of Tuuri and Lalli as little kids, barely able to take care of themselves.

(This doesn't even begin to get into what Onni secretly thinks of himself. He'd never admit it, but Onni doesn't think he can do any of this alone, either. Tuuri and Lalli have lost their support system, but more importantly, Onni has lost his.)

That said, I do think Onni was exercising a lot of discipline during Adventure 1 as well. He could have checked on Lalli every night of the expedition. It's marginally safer for him to cross the dreamsea, and he can move faster. But he didn't. Fear probably played into that, but this also means he refused the fear that wanted him to cling to Lalli. He had so little control over the entire situation; I imagine being able to exert some control over himself was the greatest reassurance he had.

And the guilt? He has guilt because he didn't go. Guilt because he abandoned them.

And that's the thing: Onni believes that he is 100% responsible for Tuuri's death. He didn't go because he was too afraid, and his fear cost Tuuri's life. That's why he leaves in Adventure 2--he has another chance, and he's trying to do the right thing by Lalli.

[13uswntimagines]

Ghosted (Emily x Reader)

Request 1: sonnett where reader is really good friends with a goalie(your choice) and sonnett gets jealous because reader and goalie play for the same club and Emily is in Europe. Do she goes to Lindsey and reader thinks Emily is going to breakup with her and pushes her closer to the goalie and it’s a whole shit show

Request 2: Can you do a Emily Sonnett imagines where her and the reader are together but the reader use to date someone else on the team ( you can chose) and the comments gets to Emily. And the Reader shows Emily how much she loves her?

Request 3: Something with Jane Campbell please

Author’s Note: I thought these three would work very well together, so I combined them. Also, this one takes an interesting turn in the end and if you look closely enough there are hints to a very interesting dynamic and why reader and jane wouldn’t work out. Let me know what you think. I live for interactions and stuff. They help to keep me motivated. 

It had been one hell of a year. It had started with both you and your girlfriend getting zero notice when the thorns traded her to Orlando and you to Houston. Then you had been trapped on opposite ends of the country due to the pandemic. That distance only got bigger when she decided to go to Sweden when Orlando pulled out of the challenge cup. 

But the two of you had made it work. Well, at least you thought you had made it work. apparently, Emily thought differently, if the silent treatment you had gotten the second you stepped into camp 3 hours ago was anything to go by. 

Hell, she wouldn’t even look in your direction. All you wanted was to hold your girlfriend (cause you hadn’t seen her in person in almost 6 months) and it felt like she didn’t even give a fuck that you were there. And Lindsey intercepted you every time you tried to get close. 

You smiled as you approached your blond girlfriend, leaning on the squat rack next to her. Normally you’d wrap your arms around her and kiss her neck, but you didn’t want to overstep with this weird tension happening between you. 

“Hey Em, wanna partner?” you asked softly, almost shyly.

Emily didn’t even turn to acknowledge you.

“I’m already with Linds,” She said tensely. Since when had she been so on edge around you? 

You frowned, your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to understand what was happening between you and your girlfriend. You glanced down at your shoes, suddenly finding them very interesting. 

“Oh, maybe-“ You started, poking the squat rack with your shoe. You looked up, only to find that Emily had already walked away and joined Lindsey on the other side of the gym. 

You sighed, finishing your thought into the blank air around you. “we could do dinner or something later. Guess not,” 

You blew out a long breath, willing yourself to hold back the tears. She didn’t even wait to see what you were going to say. Your eyes followed her as she hugged the blond midfielder and laughed loudly at whatever she was saying. It was like a knife in your heart. 

“What’s going on with you and Miss Sweden?” Hands on your shoulders and the voice right next to your ear should have made you jump, but you were too used to Jane’s scare tactics. 

You rolled your eyes and shrugged the keeper off of you, your gaze never leaving Emily. “Honestly, I have no clue,” You sighed deeply. She had never been like this with you before, and you definitely hadn’t expected your reunion to go like this. 

“Maybe it’s just jet lag. You know how she gets when she doesn’t get enough sleep,” Jane shrugged, poking at your dimples, trying to get you to laugh. You batted her hand away. 

“The question is how you know that,” You said, sending her a scathing look. 

She smirked impishly, wiggling her eyebrows. “I live with you, remember?”

You dramatically rolled your eyes, shoving your best friend. “I don’t think You’d ever let me forget,” 

The only good thing about your trade to the dash was that you got to hang out with your best friend every day. You and Jane had known each other since college and instantly hit it off as friends. When you had been traded, Jane also just happened to be looking for a roommate and things had worked out pretty well. 

“Well, if you’re still looking for a dinner date, I’m free tonight,”  Jane hummed, wrapping an arm around you again. 

“Been there, done that,” You scoffed playfully, shoving her again, but she didn’t let go of you this time. 

So maybe the two of you had tried in college. It was more of a fling than anything else, and it had mutually ended on great terms. You loved each other, but you weren’t in love and that was alright. You decided you were way better off as friends than lovers and left it at that. Plus, you had kinda fallen insanely hard for a certain blond cavalier.

“Not that kind of date,” She giggled, letting you shove her ways this time (definitely taking note of how your lips ticked up and patting herself on the back for clearing some of the clouds on your sunny personality away). 

“Whatever you say, now shut up and spot me,” 

The two of you were so caught up that you didn’t see the annoyed blue eyes following you from across the room, or the clenched fists and jaw that would have told you exactly what the issue with your girlfriend was. 

*****

You tried to smile as you entered the dining room, hoping that you would finally have the chance to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering your girlfriend. 

You spotted her from across the room, seated at a table with Rose, Sam, and Mal. You released a breath that you didn’t know you were holding at the absence of a certain blond midfielder. Emily had been attached to her side, and watching them was like a knife in your chest, every interaction a slice at what felt like the tiny thread keeping your relationship together. 

“Hey, is this seat taken?” You asked as you approached the table, stopping short of the seat next to your girlfriend. 

She tensed, and you noted how her jaw clenched with furrowed eyebrows. She opened her mouth, but before she could respond another body slid between the two of you. 

“Yeah, it is,” Lindsey said firmly, setting her plate down right in front of the seat in question. You frowned, and your fingers tightened around your plate. You bit your lip in an attempt to not say the thing that was on your mind. Despite how pissed off you were with the woman, she was your friend too. 

You glanced around the table that was now awkwardly staring at you, your eyes landing on an empty seat next to Mal and across from Emily. 

“Alright, what about that one?” 

“Taken too,” Lindsey said shortly with a shrug. Mal glared at her. “No, it’s not, sit Y/n,”

The team was growing tired of the tension between you, and how sad you looked. 

“Thanks,” You mumbled, sliding in beside Mal. 

Silence fell over the table, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. You never felt so unwelcome around your friends before. 

“Well I better get going,” Emily said after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, shoving the chair back and abruptly standing. Lindsey stood up next to her, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. Your chest ached at the hand placement and how Emily leaned into her. 

You shot up too, clearing your throat and extending your hand. “Wait Em, I thought maybe we could talk after dinner?” You said, desperation clear in your voice. The table had never heard you like this before, had never seen a crack in your typically cool and unfailingly in control exterior. 

“She’s already got plans,” Lindsey said with an eye roll, and Emily seems to tuck herself further into the taller midfielder. You gulped down the defeat and desperation threatening to crawl out of your chest. 

“Oh, um maybe I could join you then?” You asked hopefully. 

“Private plans Y/n.” Lindsey snapped, already beginning to guide Emily out of the room, seemingly careless to what you had to say. The blond defender didn’t even give you the courtesy of eye contact as she left. 

“Sure, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. I love you, Emily,” You called after their backs, watching them go. 

Everything in you seemed to deflate. It felt like she was leaving with a piece of you like she didn’t even care you were crumbling behind her. You didn’t try to stop the tears as they fell this time, slumping miserably back into your seat. 

A warm presence knelt next to you, and soft but calloused hands gently wiped the tears burning down your face. 

You met the keeper’s concerned blue eyes and allowed her to pull you into her strong embrace, hiding your face in her neck. 

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” You sobbed. Jane rubbed large circles on your back with one hand and squeezed you tight with the otherHands-onother hand was trying to hold your broken pieces together. 

“I don’t know either,” She said, kissing the side of your head. 

You missed Emily pausing at the door to send you one last look, but Jane didn’t. Her eyes bored into the blond defender. If she thought she could just jerk you around like this with no consequences then she had another thing coming. 

Jane wasn’t romantically attracted to you, but you were her best friend and she wasn’t about to let you continue to get hurt. Emily might be able to avoid you, but she wouldn’t be able to avoid Jane, the keeper would make sure of it. 

****

“Alright cut the Bullshit Sweden, you’ve been ignoring Y/n for a week. What the fuck is your problem,” Jane growled, stepping into the nearly empty locker room and glaring at your girlfriend. She knew you could more than take care of yourself, but this had gone on long enough. 

Emily tensed at the new presence, back straightening and eye going wide. She hadn’t bet on the head of the Houston department of defense to get involved. 

“Fuck off Campbell,” Lindsey said back, stepping so she was standing protectively in front of her best friend. 

“I will not because your best friend there is hurting my best friend,” Jane took another step towards the duo, puffing out her chest. 

“Yeah right, she’s barely even noticed,” Emily scoffed, crossing her arms like a petulant child. 

“See, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that considering she’s cried herself to sleep every night since she’s been here,” Jane said, taking another terrifying step forward, stabbing her finger wildly into the air. 

She had been the one to hold you while you sobbed yourself to sleep because you were sure Emily had fallen out of love with you. The one who watched you agonize over every interaction you had with your girlfriend leading up to camp, trying to find where you had gone wrong. The one who listened to you degrade yourself for apparently driving Emily away and right into Lindsey’s arms. She was watching as you literally ripped yourself apart over this. 

“And what, You didn’t enjoy comforting your new girlfriend?” Lindsey scoffed loudly, shoving Jane’s hand (which was practically touching her chest) away. 

“What?” Jane asked shocked. 

Emily peeked over Lindsey’s shoulder, scowling at the keeper. Anyone with eyes knew what they meant. “Look, I know she’s cheating so you can both drop the friends act,” 

Jane oils to help the laugh that bubbled out of her lips. God, Emily was clueless if she thought you two were anything more than friends. Sure you had tried in college, but there weren’t romantic feelings there. You both wanted such different things out of a partner and agreed that you were better off as friends. Emily was your person, and Jane would be damned if anyone said anything different. 

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think she wants anyone but you and if you weren’t so far up Horan‘s ass you would know that. If you wanna break up with her to date Miss Portland then grow some balls and do it, but don’t you dare try and ghost the sweetest person in the world,” 

“You would love that wouldn’t you?” Emily spat. 

Jane rolled her eyes. “No, because it would hurt her more than you already have. She loves you, and I thought you loved her. If you do, then you should show it,”

Emily seemed to soften at Jane’s words. She did love you, more than life itself. She really had to talk this whole thing out with you. Jane didn’t give her a chance to respond, deciding that storming off to find you and make sure you were ready for practice was a more productive use of time (she would never admit that it scared her a little to leave you alone these days). 

*****

Emily wasn’t a jealous person. At least she tried not to be. But it was really fucking difficult when it came to you and your friendship with Jane. Well, it was difficult in the beginning, when she had you next to her, but with you so far away it was nearly unbearable. 

She hadn’t minded that the Dash moved you into Jane’s apartment, but then the comments started and they wouldn’t leave her alone. Instead of turning to you, talking it out with you, she had gone running to her own best friend. And in her effort to run from the fear that you wouldn’t choose her, she had hurt you in the process. 

She watched you from across the field, taking in the slight tilt of your head and slump of your shoulders. You smiled tightly at the keeper as she approached you, but Emily could tell that it didn’t reach your eyes, even from across the field. She also knew it wasn’t the blinding smile you saved solely for her. How hadn’t she noticed it before?

 “Jane was a little crude but she’s right you know,” Lindsey said, wrapping an arm around Emily’s shoulder, her eyes easily finding you. 

She felt bad about how Emily was treating you. 

“About which part?” Emily asked, raising her eyebrow and crossing her arms. Jane had said a whole lot, and she couldn’t find it within herself to disagree with them. It was childish to ignore you, and for her to be oblivious to your obvious feelings. 

“Don’t play dumb,” Lindsey scoffed, pinching Emily’s side a little harder than necessary. She didn’t like being the middleman between the two of you. You were her friend too after all. 

Emily sighed crossing her arms a little tighter around herself. “I know. I need to talk to talk to her,”

“I’m sure when she finds out what’s bothering you, there’ll be a whole lot more than talking. Isn’t communication one of those rules between the two of you?” Lindsey asked with a smirk, laughing loudly when Emily shoved her. The team knew about your relationship… dynamic and Lindsey was sure Emily was in for it when you realized exactly why the defender had broken your most sacred agreement. 

“Shut up,”

Emily’s cheeks flavored up at the implication. He was sure you’d come up with a very… creative… way to aid her in expressing her feelings next time and show her how much you loved her when you found out what this whole thing was about. 

*****

You watched Emily very carefully from your perch on the end of the bed. She had dragged you here right after practice, and as soon as the door closed the words were pouring out of her lips. 

You sat quietly, letting her finally get out the emotions she had been keeping from you for so long. She explained how the comments on Houston’s latest photo of you and Jane had started this whole shit show, and how terrified she was that you would decide you didn’t want to deal with the distance. 

You let her pace back and forth as she told you about how she didn’t want to confront the issue, so she thought ignoring you would be a better course of action. It didn’t give you a chance to tell her that you didn’t want to be with her anymore. 

She finally paused, turning to look at you with wide tearful eyes, wringing her hands nervously in front of her. 

“I don’t have romantic feelings for Jane,” You said seriously, looking your girlfriend right in the eyes. You wanted her to know how true those words were. She knew that tone and had this been a different conversation it would have sent a chill down her spine. 

“I know I just-“ She started, but you cut her rambling off an eyebrow raise and your firm voice“Got jealous and thought that cutting your losses was better than coming to me,” 

It was a rule in your relationship- communication was king. The only way things got done was if you talked about them. You talked through every aspect of your relationship, every like and dislike, every limit and desire. This situation broke every rule you had established and that didn’t sit well with you. You couldn’t be the only one initiating (or trying to), she had to do it too (especially if she was uncomfortable with something) for this whole thing to work. It scared you a little that she had just shut down and run off to Lindsey. 

Emily nodded slightly, staring a hole in your shirt. 

“I thought you had moved on already,” She mumbled. 

You stood from the bed, gently using a finger to tilt her head so you could look her in the eyes. You raised an eyebrow. “So you got cozy with Lindsey to make me feel as jealous as you were and then wouldn’t respond to me as punishment?”

“I’m sorry, I just thought it would hurt less,” She mumbled, captivated by your y/e/c eyes and the little swirl of deeper emotion hidden inside. 

You nodded. stepping closer so your noises were almost touching and gently grasping her shoulders. “I love you Emily Ann Sonnett, even when you’re being a dumbass and ghosting me,” 

She could feel your breath fanning over her lips, only adding to the weight of your words. 

“I love you too,” Emily said, and you could see the truth to her words in her blue eyes. 

You smirked. “I know,” 

You leaned down and finally connected your lips. She grabbed your collar and pulled you closer, pouting all of her emotions into the kiss, trying to show you how much she loved you and how sorry she was for hurting you. 

Your lips moved together in a very familiar dance, slow and full of all of the emotions between you. At some point, you had flipped the two of you around so Emily was seated on edge of the bed. You pulled back and began to trail kisses down your girlfriend’s neck. 

She tilted her head to give you more room, sighing and moaning as you trailed your way down her chest, stomach, and thighs, placing kisses as you went until you were kneeling between her legs. Your fingers toyed with the waistband of her pants, an annoying cocky smirk plaster on your face when she whined that you were going too slow. 

“No, no baby girl. We’re going to work on your communication skills, so I’m not going to do anything unless you tell me exactly what you want,” 

[embracedthevoid]

I really loved your missing moments fics section, so I was wondering, what if you write about the end of 4 episode, after the yard field escene, I've really got the feeling there's so much more reasons of why Wille got embarrased when Simon asked if he remembered what did he said that last night, maybe a suggestive Willehm, perhaps a burst of honesty about the feeling of not being as good enough as his brother, idk, i'd love it💕

Okay so this took me a really long time but I did it! I literally spent 7 hours at my computer today editing this, so my eyes are burning, and I'm very sorry if I missed any grammatical errors or whatnot.

I hope this is close to what you asked for! I ended up really focusing on Simon and his perspective on the whole situation so I hope that's okay. It's just where my mind went I guess, haha.

Also, I just wanted to let everyone know that the applications for the 21+ Young Royals GC are still open here. (If you're under 21 I'm making a separate GC for younger viewers as well, go ahead and apply through the same link)

Edit: I also wanna thank @omar-rudeberg for being an amazing help with this! Couldn’t have made it through without them 💜

i like you.

Word count: 3295

Rated: Teen and up audiences

Read on ao3

Simon's not mad at Wilhelm. He's not angry or frustrated; he's not even disappointed. Instead, there's this pit carving itself deep in Simon's chest, piling every worry he's held for the boy inside until Simon can't bear it. Wilhelm's entire world has been flipped on its head, and Simon's heart aches to ease Wilhelm out of this lost haze he's been trapped in for days. Wilhelm has lost the only member of the royal family who could put a smile on his face, his eyes would light up when he talked about Erik, but now that light is gone. And left behind is a boy Simon cares so deeply for, stripping away who he truly is to become what his country needs him to be.

The Crown Prince of Sweden.

Wilhelm pulls at the material of Simon's jacket, and both of them almost topple over. Simon barely catches his own footing before tightening his grip on Wilhelm's waist to keep them both balanced. At an early age, Simon had become skilled at helping someone high as a kite stumble their way back to reality. His father had made sure of that. Simon works to push the painful memories far from his mind, not wanting to make the situation he's currently in any more triggering than it already is.

Wilhelm's foot catches on the ground, and he stumbles once more. "Sorry, sorry I just–," he fumbles over his words pressing his mouth together, licking his lips like it'll help grease his thoughts. "Simon, 'm sorry," he pleads again, and Simon doesn't respond. Wilhelm wraps his arms tighter around Simon's neck, trying to walk while simultaneously resting his head on his shoulder. Bending awkwardly at the waist to match Simon's height.

Wilhelm tries to apologize again, but Simon hushes him as they creep along the darkened path leading to the boys' dormitories. They halt abruptly when Wilhelm steps on a stick, and the snap echos through the forest line, like a beacon claiming their location. Simon inwardly groans, grabbing Wilhelm by the arm and pulling him across the grass, ignoring Wilhelm's wobbly complaints at the sudden movement. Without being spotted, they make it to the backside of the building, where windows line the exterior.

Simon pulls Wilhelm closer to his side, praying they don't get found. This becomes increasingly more probable when Wilhelm begins to giggle, ruining any stealth they possibly had. Wilhelm crouches to hide his head in Simon's shoulder. Before he can, Simon reaches up, clasping a hand over the boy's mouth. There's a nervous silence that focuses between them that even Wilhelm seems to notice with wide eyes. Both their minds wandering to that first night. He feels Wilhelm swallow under his palm, eyes burying themselves into Simons, who quickly withdraws his hand and holds a silencing finger up to his lips.

"You need to be quiet," Simon softly warns, "what room is yours?" he whispers in question. Wilhelm is once again overcome with laughter, and Simon rolls his eyes frustratedly to the sky. Simon hushes him sternly, which seems to do the trick. Simon might not be overly fond of this school. But he doesn't particularly want to be kicked out either, especially if Wilhelm is getting kicked out with him.

Simon takes a deep breath, desperate to keep his now-growing frustrations at bay. He closes his eyes, trying to think the problem through. But the way Wilhelm is hanging off him, arms wrapped securely around Simon's waist, and his chin resting on Simon's shoulder is incredibly distracting. A shiver runs across Simon's neck when he feels Wilhelm's warm breath brush against his skin as it vanishes into the chilled air. Simon's problem solving becomes increasingly difficult the closer Wilhelm moulds himself into him, so Simon shimmies out of Wilhelms hold and slumps against the paved building. Huffing a sarcastic breath as he leans back, bumping his head against the wall.

Wilhelm stands to face him, swaying slightly, using his hand closer to the wall to steady himself. He watches Simon, head tilting with a humoured smirk.

"Wille," Simon holds his voice steady, "what room is yours?" He asks again, beginning to worry at how long they've been outside.

Unfazed by the question, Wilhelm lifts his fingers and runs them gently through Simon's curls, smiling contentedly to himself as he does so. The gesture is incredibly personal, it sends a jolt of longing through Simon, and he has to remind himself to breathe. He didn't think something so ordinary could make his stomach lift into a flurry of affection. With the way Wilhelm's gaze softens at the touch, Simon nearly returns the favour, but he stops himself.

How ridiculous would that look? Two boys stood outside, fingers tangled in each other's hair as they stare longingly at each other.

Wilhelm wistfully mutters something that sounds like "so lovely."

Simon's cheeks burn as he clears his throat, the sound more strained than it should be. He seems to startle Wilhelm from whatever thoughts had taken his mind, and he withdraws his fingers from Simon's head, stepping back with a mumbled apology.

Simon slides his back against the building's exterior to sit down. His pants becoming damp on the packed dirt beneath him. Wilhelm seems to contemplate Simon for a moment, then does the same, landing beside him with more grace than he should for someone in his condition. Perhaps the long walk helped sober him up.

Simon watches curiously as Wilhelm sucks a sharp breath through his nose, holding it for a moment while his hands run shakily into his hair, anxiety visibly building.

"I'm –," Wilhelm starts, frowning up at the sky, "–'m not him." his voice wavers, jaw going stiff like he's working to keep everything in. But Simon can see the heartbreak tearing through Wilhelm's body. It's in the tense way he holds himself, shoulders stiff and eyes distant like he's living through a haze. Simon can see it now, flowing through the few tears that manage to escape, shaping the pink in Wilhelm's cheeks.

The grip Wilhelm has on his hair tightens, "I can't– m'not what they want–" he tries, voice catching as his eyes narrow forward like he's concentrating on the darkness that lines the forest. He stays silent for a while, counting his breaths like he's burying the broken moment deep into the ground.

Simon wants to be angry at Wilhelm; he wants him to know how profoundly fucked up their lives have become. Wilhelm has hurt Simon in so many ways, and frustratingly, he's not sure he can be mad at the boy for it. Simon can't begin to understand the pressures Wilhelm is facing, but that doesn't make the sickness in his stomach leave, it only deepens. Particularly at times like this, when Wilhelm is so completely lost.

Simon reaches out, circling his arm around Wilhelm's shoulders. He seems startled at the gesture but lets Simon rest his head atop his own while leaning into the embrace.

"Simon," Wilhelm sighs, his body relaxing as he curls deeper into Simon's side. His fingers brush against Simon's free hand, like he wants to lock them together but isn't sure how.

"Wille," Simon gently claims the boy's focus, "why did you call me tonight?"

Wilhelm pulls back and sits up, turning his body to face Simon, crossing his legs in front of him as he struggles to focus. Eventually, his glassy eyes center on Simon. "I didn't think you'd come," Wilhelm confesses defeatedly. Simon swallows the urge to reach out and pull the boy back into his arms. "Didn't know if anyone–." Wilhelm doesn't finish, swaying forward to rest his forehead on Simon's shoulder. Keeping his face hidden, "I really like you," Wilhelms admits, steadier than he's been all night.

A chill plunges into Simon's chest. Hearing Wilhelm confess his feelings over the phone is one thing. But having him here, sat beside him, raising his head, gazing sincerely into Simon's eyes, is a whole other experience. Simon has to resist the urge to reach out and tuck a stray hair behind Wilhelm's ear if only to see him more clearly in the darkness.

"I think Eric would have liked you." Wilhelm continues into Simon's stunned silence and past his own sorrow. His eyes light up when he says his brother's name. And Simon wants nothing more than to keep the light there.

So he prompts Wilhelm further, "yeah?" Simon asks shyly, rolling his lips together as he pulls his knees up to rest his elbows on. Listening to Wilhelm's words with intention.

"Mhm," Wilhelm mumbles, his head bobbing forward slightly as he tracks his fingers through a patch of grass that merges into dirt lining the building. "I told em' about you," William says like it's not a big deal, but that doesn't stop Simon's heart from jumping in his chest. "Well, not really about you," Wilhelm clarifies, "he caught me. He knew I wanted to stay at Hillerska. Asked who they–," Wilhelms mind wanders off along with his words. "They," He repeats the word to himself, brows knitted together. He looks past the ground like there's some sort of revelation waiting on the other side. Wilhelm jerks his head back to look at Simon, "He said they," he swallows, "did he know?" Wilhelm asks Simon, mouth parted slightly in wonderment.

There's movement along the edge of the forest, and both Simon and Wilhelm jump apart, only now noticing how close they'd been sitting. There's an outline walking toward them, and Simon can feel his pulse rise with anxiety.

Wilhelm squints at the figure as if that'll somehow make them more visible. "Alexander," Wilhelm asks aloud.

"Wilhelm," the boy questions, becoming increasingly more visible as he rushes through the darkness, meeting Simon and Wilhelm at a crouch in front of them. Keeping himself out of sight.

"Is August with you," the alarm in Wilhelm's voice rushes out unfiltered, and Simon can feel it like it's his own.

"No," Alexander says quietly, "I was told I was no longer needed."

Simon frowns at the way the boy says it like it's perfectly reasonable for him to only be around when he's of use.

"What happened to you? You were suddenly gone," Alexander puzzles with a hushed concern that might actually be genuine.

Wilhelm's eyes slip back to Simon, a smirk starting on his lips filled with affection as he peers at him. He opens his mouth to presumably say something he'll regret in the morning, so Simon cuts him off.

"I called–" Wilhelm begins.

"–he got lost," Simon speaks over him, "thankfully I was around," he clears his throat, attempting to explain further. Trying to ignore the confused tilt of Wilhelm's head from his lie. "Can't find his room though," Simon explains with an awkward half-laugh. Thankfully Alexander doesn't require more explanation.

"I leave my window cracked open," Alexander informs, "If I can get past his bodyguards, I'll go in and pop his open. It's that one there," Alexander points in the distance, and before Simon can ask what window he pointed at –amongst all the others that look the same– he's gone.

Simon stands, wiping bits of dirt off his clothes. He helps Wilhelm, who easily snakes his arms around Simon's shoulders, using him for support. Their stance isn't particularly helpful in keeping Wilhelm up, but Simon still lets the boy drape himself over him. Finding it frustrating but endearing all the same, they start toward the window Simon thinks Alexander pointed to.

"Simon," Wilhelm whispers close to Simon's ear, his warm breath peppering a trail of goosebumps down his neck. "Why did you kiss me during the movie?"

Simon nearly trips over his own feet as they shuffle along the building. He clears his throat, stopping when he sees Alexander move behind what must be Wilhelms bedroom window. Safe from a response, Alexander jerks it open. The glass pane nearly smacks Wilhelm in the head as he loses his balance, his grip on Simon faltering. Simon clutches Wilhelm by the arm, catching him before any damage can be done and guides him to the window. Alexander reaches through, pulling Wilhelm in by his elbows as Simon keeps the boys stable from the other side. Once he's in, Simon finds himself unsure of what happens next. Is he meant to follow Wilhelm inside too? Does he want to?

There's a loud clatter as Wilhelm trips to the ground, tumbling over the desk obstructing the window somewhat. Simon chuckles when the boy stands, quickly twisting around. His eyes lighten with what could be relief when they land back on Simon like he's surprised to find him still standing there.

"I thought– well I'm –," Wilhelm swallows and takes a deep breath scrunching his eyes together then opening them. The same level of wonderment is stuck behind his features, "I thought you were a dream," Wilhelms admits breathlessly. Simon's heart melts in the chilled air.

Alexander steps back into view, "I can take it from here," he concludes dismissively.

Instantly there's an ache growing in Simon's gut, already yearning to ensure Wilhelm's safety. It's interrupted by Alexander's phone vibrating loudly in his pocket. He pulls it out. Simon watches him as he holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder and places both hands on Wilhelm's arms, guiding him to lean on the desk.

Willhelm leans back on his palm, turning to stick his head out the window. He whispers loudly, making Alexander cover his other ear with his finger and turn away toward the door. Wilhelm gestures for Simon to climb through the window once the other boy's attention is elsewhere.

Simon subconsciously licks his lips, pressing them together with a shallow exhale, contemplating all the ways this could go wrong. But when Wilhelm beckons him once more, Simon's chest becomes lighter, and he can't say no.

His journey through the window is much less complicated than Wilhelm's. He doesn't require two people to help him. Though, he blushes when he takes Wilhelms extended hand, almost tripping over the desk himself and colliding into Wilhelm. He catches Simon by the waist, their chests gently bumping together. Simon gasps softly at how close they are, and for an intense second, Wilhelm looks like he'll kiss him.

Simon's eyes dart to the back of Alexander's head and back at the inebriated layer still covering Wilhelm's eyes, and he steps back, out of Wilhelms embrace. Trying not to notice the puzzled frown that sours Wilhelm's smile.

"–Yeah, I do," Alexander says, still facing the wall. He startles Wilhelm, jumping further back from Simon like he forgot Alexander is here. Which would explain a lot. "I've still got them," Alexander turns back around, patting the outside of his coat, where there's something bulky hidden beneath. Alexander's eyes widen slightly, probably shocked that Simon is inside Wilhelm's room, then turns his attention back to whoever is on the phone. "I'm coming," he ends the call shoving his phone back in his pocket, thinking for a moment, then he focuses on Simon.

"August needs me back. Can you deal with him?" Alexander gestures to Willhelm, who's found himself wobbling in the centre of the room. Eyes focussed intensely on a snow globe he must have found, holding inches from his face.

"Yeah," Simon pauses, watching Wilhelm hold the glass ball to his eye like a magnifying glass. "I got him," he sighs, rolling his lips together.

Alexander thanks Simon with an appreciative nod and slips out the door into the hallway. He hears him speak to someone, and Simon wonders what he would have to say to get into the crown prince's bedroom in the middle of the night.

Simon gently takes the snow globe from Wilhelms's hands, lowering them and placing the globe on his desk. When Simon looks back to Wilhelm, he notices the boy studying him, his lips rising into a smile that makes Simon blush against the still room.

"We're alone," Wilhelm whispers with a roguish smirk. He treads forward, closing into Simon's space, so he has to tilt his head down to look at him, close enough that his hair nearly curtains both of their faces. "You're beautiful," Wilhelm breathlessly whispers, knocking his forehead carefully against Simons, breathing in the inches between them like he needs it to survive.

Wilhelm's hands loop around Simon's waist. There's a grin dancing on Wilhelm's lips as he rocks his forehead against Simons, their noses brush together, and Simon is caught in a paralyzing loop. His mind is captivated by how near Wilhelm is that he almost doesn't step back when Wilhelm attempts to connect their lips.

Hurt flickers in Wilhelm's eyes as Simon stumbles back, his hip catching on the desk behind him. There's a sharp pain that snaps Simon back to the present, to their situation, and to what Wilhelm needs from him right now.

"You should sleep," Simon's voice is hoarse as he hides his hands in his jacket sleeves. A reminder to keep them to himself.

"But 'm not tired," Wilhelm quietly argues, turning to face away from Simon toward the bed with a yawn that claims otherwise.

Simon stands, uncertain what to do when Wilhelm drops his jacket from his shoulders, wraps his fingers around the hem of his shirt, and pulls it up over his head. There's an echo of light that spills past the open curtains from the hazy night sky. Through it, Simon can make out gentle grooves shadowing Wilhelm's narrow body. He appreciates the subtle curve of Wilhelm's spine, the dim light emphasizing the hollow dip where his jeans border his hips. Simon wants to reach out and follow every definition with his fingers. He wants to know if he can feel each bump along the boy's spine that rises when Wilhelm crouches forward onto the bed, flopping down on his stomach and rolling on his side to face Simon.

Simon clears his throat, sweaty palms rubbing against his jeans, pointedly trying not to let his gaze wander lower than Wilhelm's face.

Wilhelm extends his arm to Simon as if he's hoping the gesture will magically pull him forward. But Simon remains fixed in the middle of the room, achingly conscious of how alone they are –a rare occurrence– and how the tender glow of the moon dances across Wilhelm's pale skin, like porcelain.

"Come m'ere," Wilhelm drowsily mumbles, dropping his arm and moving it to wrap around his own body, like he's hugging himself.

Simon wonders how frequently Wilhelm does that. How often he's alone with no one to embrace him or comfort him. How many times he's hidden in these four walls, wishing his brother could be there with him. Simon's chest clenches at the thought. He can't allow Wilhelm to feel alone, not when he doesn't need to be.

With timid breaths and light feet, Simon hesitantly makes his way across the room and sits at the opposite end of the bed. Wilhelm shuffles to pull his covers over himself and nuzzles into his pillow. Simon thinks he hears him mumble the word "pretty" and "thank you," but it's hard to discern in Simon's own haze of exhaustion. He leans back against the wall, trying to get comfortable enough until Wilhelm falls asleep. But the heated air in the room, in contrast to outside, becomes uncomfortably warm, so Simon removes his jacket, draping it over his legs. He'll leave as soon as he knows Wilhelms is asleep. He just wants to be comfortable in the meantime.

Simon watches Wilhelm's chest rise and fall, lulling into a soothing rhythm. Simon's eyes hang heavy, blinking to keep them open. He decides it's okay to rest them for a minute, then he'll leave.

He'll definitely leave.

[hookingminor]

12 or 1 w matthew tkachuk please!

12. when they haven’t seen each other for a while (bonus point if they’re not sure the other one is alive) and all this time they’ve been trying to stay strong, but when they reunite, they crash into each other’s arms, and completely breakdown…

taking a lil break from studying for finals. spoiler: ya girl is dying a slow and painful death and if I don't kill myself by the end of next week it will have been a miracle

-

The extended road trip took Matthew by surprise. A last minute opportunity came up for the Flames to play a few games in Europe as the NHL had tried to reopen the idea of European tours. It was nothing major, just a few games in Germany and Sweden against Dallas. The trip was originally supposed to take a week, but the late admittance for the series caused the Flames schedule to be restructured.

You were currently on a trip of your own visiting your family when Matthew got the news. You wouldn’t be back in time to see him off before he had to go to Europe. The week in Europe would be followed by launching into their two-week stretch of roadies, and the guys were told to pack accordingly since they wouldn’t be back in Calgary for nearly a month.

It wasn’t the first time you’d gone so long without seeing Matthew, but it would be the first time since moving in with him. Since the relationship had gotten serious, Matthew always made a point to invite you over or visit you at your crowded apartment, but things had gotten a lot easier since you moved into his apartment last year. You were always home waiting after hard games and hard road trips, and Matthew wouldn’t have it any other way.

He was more than a little displeased at the news. He should’ve been bouncing off the walls at a chance to do some light touring of Europe, but all he could think about was how he wasn’t going to see you for a month.

The time difference made communication a little difficult, especially with your busy schedules, but even the phone calls and facetimes when he was back in the states weren’t any easier. Matthew was restless. Restless to get back to you and your bed and your Australian Shepherd puppy you’d adopted not even three months ago.

Matthew was two seconds away from collapsing to his knees in exhaustion when he turned his key into the lock of your apartment. His suits were all wrinkled and in desperate need of cleaning after nearly a month on the road, and the hotel pillows didn’t come close to replacing your figure in bed next to him.

“Hey there, Luna,” Matthew dropped his bag and suitcase in the doorway, immediately crouching to the height of your dog so he could properly scratch behind her ears. “Miss me, bud?” She yipped happily, bouncing joyfully around his feet.

“She’s not the only one,” you said from the hallway. He hadn’t heard you come out of the bedroom, and your silhouette was outlined in the dim lighting from a lamp in the living room. Maybe it was your sleepy face or the way you stood there in only his t-shirt and a cardigan on the verge of falling asleep or the fact that he hadn’t seen you in a month, it was probably all factors combined, but Matthew felt like collapsing.

He stood up quickly, and Luna jumped to the side to not get in his way as Matthew quickly crossed the few feet of distance between your bodies. You barely had any time to process before he was squeezing all the breath out of your lungs in the tightest hug you’d ever received. Matthew tucked his face into your neck as your arms came to wrap around his shoulders.

“Hello to you too, baby,” you chuckled lightly, letting your fingers tangle into the hair that had grown a little longer since you last saw him. Matthew whispered a reply, but it was mumbled into your skin.

“What was that?” You asked, tugging his hair back a bit so you could see his face. You furrowed your brows. “Are you crying?”

The lighting was minimal, but you could make out the teary look in Matthew’s eyes. He quickly swiped them away with the back of his hand before engulfing you in his arms again. “I just missed you a lot. That’s all.”

As if your heart couldn’t break anymore, you positively melted into his arms. “I missed you too,” you replied. This time you took your turn to bury your face into his neck, and Matthew pulled you even closer.

He walked your bodies back until you reached the bedroom, never once letting go of you. Matthew paused in front of the bed briefly and gently cupped your cheek with one hand. Dipping his head, he kissed your lips softly and deeply, tilting your head up with his hand. It was quick, just enough to convey how much he missed you over the last month, but you didn’t mind. You had a feeling Matthew wasn’t going to let go of you any time soon.

“I’m never leaving you for that long ever again,” he muttered against your lips, and you smiled.

“Well, I’m not letting you leave for that long ever again,” you grinned. “And next time you go to Europe, you better take me with you.”

“We’ll make our own vacation out of it,” Matthew agreed. “Anywhere you want to go, I’ll take you.”

“We can talk about it later. I’m sure you wanna get to sleep. You must be exhausted,” you said softly. You moved to step out of his embrace but were met with instant resistance from Matthew.

“I need to refill Luna’s water, and I’ll be back in a second,” you said, unwrapping Matthew’s hands yourself much to his dismay. He let out a quiet whine but let you out of his grip since he was too tired to fight you right now.

You left the room for a minute to fill Luna’s water bowl and collected Matthew’s suitcases from the door. You found him with one eye barely open when you reentered the bedroom with his luggage in tow.

“Don’t you dare unpack that right now,” Matthew grumbled from his side of the bed. You were half tempted to not listen to him, knowing it would save you time tomorrow if you just did it right now, but he sounded too put out for you to argue.

You crawled under the covers and turned off the bedside lamp, and Matthew’s body was on top of yours in an instant. He curled into your side, resting his face on your chest and wrapping an arm tight around your abdomen. A leg wiggled its way between yours, and Matthew clutched you close like you were his own personal teddy bear.

You let your fingers card through his hair, gently scratching his scalp to which Matthew let out a content sigh.

“I love you,” he said sleepily, and all you could do was smile and repeat the sentiment.

“I love you too,” you said, but Matthew was already passed out before he could hear it.

You woke up the following morning the same way you fell asleep, with Matthew half on top of you and his hair tickling your face, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.