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alltaternotot · 10 months

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Lucky Charm | E. Johnson

Erik Johnson X Fem!Reader

A/N: Inspired by Emily Kaplan’s interview with EJ after the Avs won the Cup. He’s so fine it’s not even funny.

CW: NSFW (blowjob, praise, exhibitionism if you squint REALLY hard), swearing, very limited knowledge of how horse racing/betting actually works, but I gave it a stab. Very VERY lightly proofread, pls excuse any mistakes, just doin this for funsies.

Word count: 2.4K

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The summers in Denver were always perfect. It was finally time to relax and enjoy the warm weather after months and months of cold ice rinks and rigorous schedules, for you and your boyfriend both. EJ could finally take a step back from his intense training and long road trips, just for a few weeks, before it was back to the grind again.

You worked as a senior consultant in a successful Denver design firm, which was also the reason you met the tall blond. He commissioned you to design his newly renovated kitchen and living space, and invited you to enjoy a glass of wine with him when all was said and done. He had given you a soul-sucking kiss on the way out the door that night, leading to the best years of your life so far.

You were high up enough in the company now, around four years down the line, that you could somewhat make your own schedule. You followed Erik’s schedule most of the time. You would work hard in the months he was on the ice, and take a few weeks in the summer to enjoy the sunshine and your boyfriend.

That’s how you found yourself here, sitting on the shaded patio, watching the water in the backyard pool ebb and flow in the breeze and reading a new book leisurely. There was nothing like enjoying the soft sound of the water and a good book to pass the time.

You shared a routine during these days. He would join you outside with a tray of food and special cocktails he liked to make, spending the day reading or playing cards with some music on. On race days, especially the ones his horses were entered in, he insisted on sitting outside with a cigar (because there was no way he was getting cigar ash on his indoor furniture) with the back door open, plus sitting on the part of the sectional that faced indoors so he could watch and still enjoy time with you.

Today was a race day, and like clockwork, you could hear Erik open the back door, the sound of the TV in the other room coming through, and his footfalls coming up behind you. He leaned against the back of the deck sectional you were seated in, squeezing the back of your neck and laying a gentle kiss on your head.

“How’s the read?” He asked, coming to sit down with a tray of sandwiches, fruit, and the drinks.

“S’good so far, I’m about halfway through.” You answered, popping a raspberry in your mouth and flipping the page, “any news on MacKinnon yet?”

Horse racing was something that seemed to escape you interest-wise. You thought the horses were absolutely stunning, but the pedigrees going back to the dawn of time and the betting Erik liked to partake in were a bit much for you. He loved it though, so you kept up with his horses at least. You had met them all on trips to California and listened to his explanations about why they were so elite, all while petting their velvety noses and giving them carrots, completely losing the conversation after their grandparents had been brought up.

“Nothing yet, the race starts in 20ish minutes. The announcers have high hopes for him though.” He said, picking up the cigar and his little silver guillotine strait cutter, “his money pool is up to 30k right now, could be a big day for us baby.”

He put the cigar into the guillotine and clipped the end off, pulling out his nice zippo and holding it up. You loved how he looked lighting up his cigars, holding the cigar between the teeth he still had and gently grasping it with his hand. You loved the way the little fire would reflect on his sunglasses and cast soft shadows on his face. Every time he blew a puff of smoke out, it made you want to melt into a puddle, but you would never tell him that.

“That one smells pretty good.” You remarked as he leaned back, pulling you up against his side, the scent of tobacco and spice wafting around you.

“I think so too. Naz gave me a few after the parade.” He said, looking up towards the tv for the stats of today’s race.

You admired his profile as he looked at the standings, watching his eyes dart across the screen behind his sunglasses and the tendril of blond hair sticking out of his backwards ball cap. You admired his nose and his cupid’s bow, watching as he blew out more smoke and let it billow around him. You quickly learned to love the way his lip fell flat where his teeth were missing too, despite your friends feigning concern for your future make-outs. You loved everything about Erik really, but moments like these really did something to you. You thought you might get caught looking for too long, so you turned back to your book and dove in once again.

Your books were to you like Erik’s horses were to him. You loved romance novels most of all, you could laugh at the worst of them and squeeze your thighs together when they got good. You learned new things about yourself because of them too, Erik more than willing to try new things when you brought them up, on the rare occasions that you did. You weren’t the most adventurous in the bedroom by any means, but you had a few things you particularly liked when Erik did or helped you do.

This particular book was on the thigh-squeezing end so far, the slow-burn where the main character falls in love with the handsome rugged cowboy (who also happened to have an affinity for cigars) after finding herself stuck in a podunk little town. It had gotten very hot very fast. Images of a tall dark and handsome man pushing the main character up against a barn door and finally kissing her after 15 chapters went flashing through your mind. You continued down the page, imagining the clothes coming off and the sloppy kisses leading up to a risky, almost-public blowjob. He topped it all off with blowing cigar smoke into her mouth while she trembled under him.

Suddenly, your skin was on fire, and you were hyper aware of Erik’s fingers gently stroking up and down your arm, and the way he looked smoking that damn cigar. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, and you breathing became more ragged and shallow.

You craned your head up and placed a kiss on his neck, then his jaw, then his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. Your hand found his chest as you tried to sit up a little more, but Erik lifted you up just enough for a proper kiss, letting his hand fall on your shoulders, the other holding onto the cigar so he wouldn’t burn you or get ash on you.

“What’s this for baby?” He said, reaching out for another kiss, “your heart’s beating a million miles a minute…” he continued.

“Cant I kiss my boyfriend? I just felt like it…” you said, albeit with a ragged intake of breath.

He smiled a knowing smile, “did your book get good baby?”

“I just wanna kiss you…” you repeated, and he obliged with a few more kisses, noting the way a blush crept up your neck and turned your ears red like it did when you asked him to try something.

After the kiss slowed down, you laid down on the sectional, your head resting on Erik’s thick thigh. His eyes shot back to the tv again, observing the standings again. You tried to focus on your book again, but your mind traveled back to the blowjob up against the cowboy’s barn, and him blowing smoke into the main character’s mouth, your thighs squeezed together again. Erik began running a hand through your hair, brushing your scalp with his fingertips.

You placed gentle kisses on his thigh and began to slowly slide off the sectional, not wanting to take too much of Erik’s attention off the tv. You brought a pillow down with you, putting it under your knees so they wouldn’t scrape against the concrete of the patio. You reached for the knot holding his shorts up, and he inhaled sharply, his hand flying down to caress your face.

“Baby…” he said, and you continued trying to take the knot out of the tie, “baby you wanna do this now? Here?” He said, gently holding your chin so you would look up into his gaze.

You never wanted to do anything outside before now, you had a lot of anxiety about the media seeing you and Erik doing NSFW things and ruining both of your careers. He had asked before on a couple of occasions, but you found a way to steer things inside with the blinds shut. You were almost completely secluded here, it was the off-season, and it would take a real scumbag of a media person to show up at the house for a juicy scoop.

“Yeah, I want you so bad…” you said quietly, “you look so fucking hot with that cigar…” you admitted without thinking.

“You like the cigar huh?” He said, pushing his hips up so you could pull his shorts and boxers down just enough for his dick, already half hard from a few kisses and touches.

“You have no idea what you do to me with that damn thing…” you said, pressing kisses to the cut of his hip and his happy trail.

He groaned in playful frustration, spreading a little more so you fit better between his thighs. You finally grabbed his dick, running your closed hand up and down. He moaned and reached for your hair, running his fingers through it again. You stroked him until he was fully hard, watching the muscles tense under your touch.

You ran your tongue along the underside in a fat stripe, letting your spit coat his dick. You took the head in your mouth and sunk down slowly, using your hand to stroke what you couldn’t take. He fisted your hair, pulling back strands so he could see your face.

He loved looking at you when you blew him, there was nothing better. He loved watching his dick disappear into your throat and how expertly you took him. You looked up through your eyelashes at him, and saw he was slack-jawed with his eyes rolled back, absorbing all of the sensations.

“Mmm baby, you look so pretty taking me like that…” he said breathily, “holy fuck your mouth feels so good.”

You hummed, sending vibrations through his dick and bringing him that much closer. He had to control himself from fucking your throat. Everything about this was hot, the sight of you on the ground for him, the wet sound of your spit, the way your mascara was starting to run in the corners of your eyes.

He watched and waited for you to look up through your eyelashes again, then took a deep inhale of the cigar and blew it out, still holding onto your hair. The smell of the cigar just heightened everything further.

Suddenly the sound of a bugle announcing the beginning of the race, and a shot accompanied by the gates holding in the horses swinging open drew your eyes to the tv. You looked up to Erik again, watching his eyebrows slightly raise as MacKinnon pulled forward by a few feet. You took him out of your mouth, spit dribbling down your chin and all over his dick, and you took a moment to breathe while you stroked.

Focusing back on Erik, you knew he was close, you could feel his hard muscles tensing. His moans were getting higher and a little louder, but not too loud, he knew that would make you nervous about people noticing. His hands ran through your hair and gently held the back of your head when you took him back into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head, eliciting a sharp whine from him. He took another puff of the cigar, sending you into a somewhat feral effort to get him there.

“I-I’m so close baby! God you feel amazing!” He said, watching you take his dick, “you’re so good for me, treating me so well…” he praised.

You sucked gently and bobbed your head a few more times before he finally shot his load down your throat, letting you swallow it. He moaned and writhed above you, tightening his grip on your hair before letting his fist loosen so your hair fell down around your face.

You leaned your head on his thigh and took a few breaths, trying to regain some composure. Seeing you like that always made his heart skip a beat, hair tousled from his hands and lips swollen and glossy. You even had a little speck of black soot from the cigar swiped across your cheek.

He hiked his shorts back up and offered his free hand. He pulled you up to straddle his lap, taking a deep inhale of the cigar again, watching your eyes and your swollen lips. He kissed you, letting the smoke fall out of your open mouths. You were both breathing heavy as you relaxed chest to chest, head falling into the crook of his neck. He rubbed soothing circles into your back as you tried to regain your breathing.

“Holy shit! Mackinnon’s about to break into first!” Erik said somewhat tiredly, and you turned around to see his beloved horse pulling forward in the final stretch of the race.

You both cheered as MacKinnon crossed the finish line, effectively winning Erik 30 thousand dollars and more bragging rights to his racing friends. You leaned down and kissed him again, not trusting yourself to get up and stand on your jelly knees quite yet.

“We should break open a vintage bottle tonight baby, we’re celebrating!” He said, standing up with you wrapped around his waist, “you’re my lucky charm baby, maybe we should do that for every race!” He joked.

“Trust me E, I can get on board with that… just keep that cigar around…” You teased, and he laid a deep kiss on your lips.

He walked you both inside and laid you down on the couch, tray of food and drinks (and the cigar) long forgotten. His hands already traveling down your body and in your hair.

“Let me show you now much I love you, my lucky charm.”

#Erik Johnson #Erik Johnson imagine #EJ fic #Colorado Avalanche #Avs fic #pls come back bestie we miss you #T’s imagines #nhl fic

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fuckyeah-jessicabiel · 2 years

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Jessica Biel for Vogue, February 2010

The Real Biel

You can learn all sorts of interesting things about a person on a road trip together. For example: Jessica Biel is a very good driver. She is behind the wheel of a Subaru heading north from Vancouver toward Whistler, one of the ski resorts hosting the Olympics this month. Because of record-breaking snow, Biel has decided to ditch the more traditional plans she’d made for our interview and hit the slopes instead. So here we are, side by side, snacking on trail mix and listening to the sound track to Where the Wild Things Are. In the car in front of us is Biel’s assistant and best friend, Lindsay Ratowsky, who is being driven with all of our bags and equipment. Our mini caravan left Vancouver in the late afternoon in a downpour, and now we are driving in the dark in a snowstorm. Wearing jeans and hiking boots, Biel, who grew up in Boulder, Colorado, and has been snowboarding since she was a kid, is utterly in her element. “This is very much a me moment: in the snow, in the Subaru, listening to music,” she says. “I feel really at peace in this environment.”

It’s a far cry from where we were two hours ago, when Biel had 40 pounds of ammo strapped around her waist and an M4 semiautomatic assault rifle hoisted above her right shoulder. We were on the outskirts of Vancouver in an empty warehouse the size of a Walmart, part of the soundstage where she has been filming The A-Team. Paul, a dashing fellow with a British accent whom Biel describes as the “resident badass,” was teaching her the finer points of racking and reloading. After Biel squeezed off several deafening rounds, Paul calculated the number of mistakes she made and then said, “Twenty-four!” She dropped to the floor and gave him two dozen push-ups. It was only then that I noticed that she is as thin as a teenage boy and all muscle. Her usual Jessica Rabbit curves have all but disappeared, the red-carpet Sex Bomb nowhere to be found.

Who is Jessica Biel? Let’s admit it: She is a bit of a cipher. The girls who read the tabloids think of her as Justin Timberlake’s on-again, off-again girlfriend; my aunt Nancy thinks of her as little Mary Camden from the mid-nineties WB series 7th Heaven; and most men under 40 think of her as the smokin’ hottie who let Adam Sandler massage her breasts in I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry. I think it is fair to say that Jessica Biel has not yet experienced a unifying cultural moment. In other words: She can still ride the subway, which, in fact, she tells me she just did the other day. “I talked to a girl who liked my shoes,” she says. “ ‘Oh, those are cute. Where’d you get those?’ ‘I got them at Barneys.’ ‘Are you from New York?’ ‘No, I’m from out of town.’ ‘Oh, cool. Nice to talk to you.’ ‘Nice to talk to you!’ ”

My own expectations were equally off-base; I imagined her as a sort of modern-day Raquel Welch. I thought she would purr. But that notion was shattered the instant I met her. It does not take long to figure out that Jessica Biel is a mellow creature, a young woman who appears to be completely at ease with herself and who meets the world on her own terms. I spent nearly two full days with her, and not once did I see her tense up. This is at least partly due to how she was raised. She describes her parents as hippies. “They are major outdoor people,” she says. “They rafted the Grand Canyon when they were in their 20s. They are an incredible couple.”

Her father, Jon, worked for GE for many years and ran his own business consultancy in Boulder. “He is extremely motivated and ambitious,” she says. “I get those qualities from him.” Her mother, Kim, grew up one of six kids in a small town a few hours southwest of Denver where Jessica and her parents both own cabins on adjoining properties. Her mother’s side of the family is part Native American: Those crazy-high cheekbones are shared by her younger brother, mother, and grandmother. When she tells me that her parents dehydrate their own food, culture their own vegetables, and make their own coconut kefir, I can’t help laughing. “I actually do, too!” she says.

One of the benefits of having hippie parents is that they tend to indulge whimsy. Handbell choir! Jazz and tap class! By the time Biel was in her early teens, she was training as a level-six gymnast and starring in local musicals. One summer she took a commercial-acting class. It led to a talent convention in Los Angeles, which landed her an agent and a scholarship to a kids’ acting school. “I was hooked,” she says. It was around this time that her parents started making sacrifices so she could be in L.A. for pilot season. “It was stressful, for sure: my mom leaving my brother when he was so little for months at a time; my dad having to deal on his own. Sometimes I look back and think, God, you guys were crazy for letting some twelve-year-old do what she wanted. I mean, they did everything for me.”

It paid off. In 1996, when she was fourteen, Biel was cast as the levelheaded eldest daughter, Mary Camden, on the weirdly successful Aaron Spelling series 7th Heaven, a treacly morality lesson dressed up as a weekly family drama about a progressive reverend and his family. It ran for eleven seasons and is—get this—the longest-running family drama in television history. But as the show became a staple in Middle America’s living rooms, Biel blossomed into a knockout and began to chafe at the limitations of playing the same Goody Two-shoes year after year. She wanted out. It is now part of showbiz legend—and one of Biel’s enduring regrets—that just a few weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday, she posed nearly naked for the cover of Gear, a magazine owned by Bob Guccione, Jr., and got her wish. If in the end it turned out to be a savvy move, freeing her from a stultifying character, at the time it infuriated her colleagues. Stephen Collins, her TV dad, called it “child pornography,” and Spelling released her from her contract after the fourth season.

Now, as she is focused, laser-like, on getting us through the storm, she seems thoughtful about the whole episode. “I really wanted to go to college, and it all kind of happened at the same time. I did this photo shoot; the photo shoot came out; it was terribly embarrassing. I had to apologize to everybody, including my parents. It was a big learning experience: learning how to have boundaries and how to say no.”

Not surprisingly, Biel has a lot of empathy for young girls dealing with adolescence in front of an audience. “I have this overwhelming motherly feeling toward them. Just do what you gotta do, girls! Hold it together! I wish everyone would just leave them alone.” Biel has clearly figured out the importance of maintaining some semblance of autonomy in a highly scrutinized life. She likes to drive by herself the eighteen hours from L.A. to Boulder with her dogs—even though everyone tells her it’s dangerous. When I mention that Gwen Stefani wrote the song “Just a Girl” about this very phenomenon—pretty girls being cautioned not to go anywhere alone—Biel says, “Rock on, girl. I feel her pain.”

Suddenly we hit a backup on the highway. There has been an accident. If we have a minor accident, it will add drama to the story, I say. “I was thinking that, too!” she says. “Actually, I was just thinking, Where are my gloves? Because if we crash we’ll have to get out, and we’ll have to be warm.” She laughs. “And then I took it to another level: What if I kill him? My other thought was, At least they would test me for drugs and alcohol and I would be clean. I would not go to jail. But you would be dead, and it would be horrible! There’s no good outcome!” We are laughing when we finally pass the scene of the crime. “What is she doing in a skirt?” says Biel, looking at the woman who has obviously caused this mess. “And high-heeled boots?” She looks over at me and smiles. “We are going to get there alive. I just know it. I have good karma.”

If Jessica Biel seems to live a charmed personal life (rumors of breakups notwithstanding), she hasn’t had such great luck in her career. Not long after we arrive at our hotel, we meet for dinner at the restaurant downstairs. Biel shows up wearing black Frye motorcycle boots, dark-blue jeans that look like leggings, a loose black scoop-neck T-shirt, a droopy red Steven Alan cardigan, and a chunky white Chanel watch. Once again, she winds up in the driver’s seat, engaging our waitress on the wine list and then talking me into ordering a Gewürztraminer. At one point she asks the waitress about the halibut. “Is it still in season? Is it nice?” It’s really nice, says the waitress perfunctorily. “I don’t know if I believe you,” Biel says to her in the most startling, matter-of-fact way. “Talk to me more about it.” The waitress admirably rises to the challenge. Finally convinced, Biel orders the dish (and cleans her plate).

The conversation quickly settles on her vexed post-TV career, which goes like this: ill-conceived remake of famous horror film; tragic Bret Easton Ellis adaptation; even more tragic Kim Basinger vehicle; meaningless third installment of Blade franchise; terrible movie; terrible movie . . . The Illusionist! Starring Edward Norton and Paul Giamatti, it is easily the best film Biel has been in. Though it was not a commercial hit, it is a pleasure to watch, and Biel is believable as a Viennese woman from the turn of the last century. “A lot of times people I work with have said, ‘Oh, this movie is going to be the one,’ and then nothing happens. But with The Illusionist I felt it more than ever, that people really started to see me differently.”

And then there is Biel’s run of bad luck with great directors. Cameron Crowe cast her in Elizabethtown, a film that flopped on a grand scale, and David O. Russell gave her the lead in Nailed, based on Kristin Gore’s novel Sammy’s Hill, about a woman with no health insurance who gets a nail lodged in her head and goes to Washington to fight for justice. “Jess was tired of being cast as merely sultry and was more than ready to throw down for all the weird behavior a nail in the head gives her character,” says Russell. “She auditioned and went for it—she is fearless.” Gore (Al’s daughter), who co-wrote the screenplay with Russell, spent three months with Biel on the set in South Carolina. “I think her range is something that has yet to be discovered by the larger world,” she says. “She also has this preternatural self-assurance.” The production shut down because of money problems with just one thing left to shoot: the scene where Biel gets the nail shot into her head. That was in 2008, and with each passing month it grows ever less likely that her most challenging film work to date will make it to the screen.

Meanwhile, the film industry has gone through a major upheaval since the recession. “The last year in this business has been harsh,” says Biel. “There’s no material. Nobody wants to make dramas. And that’s what we all want to do.” What is getting produced, she says, are “commercial movies—horror movies, big romantic comedies, and action movies. Those can be great, but you don’t want to do only those kinds of films. You can’t live on éclairs alone. You have to have a spinach salad every now and again.”

For now, however, she gorges on éclairs. This month she stars in Valentine’s Day, an ensemble romantic comedy, directed by Garry Marshall, that features a galaxy of A-list stars: Julia Roberts, Jamie Foxx, Anne Hathaway, Jennifer Garner, Patrick Dempsey, and so on. Biel plays a neurotic sports publicist and toxic bachelorette. “I really get to play crazy,” she says gleefully. “A girl who has hit the wall with wanting to find a man. And I get to do some broad comedy; it’s a little Lucille Ball-esque.” And who better than Garry Marshall to direct her? “She was so eager to do physical comedy, in particular, because she knew I worked with Lucy and with my sister on Laverne & Shirley,” Marshall says. “She sings a wild song in the movie; it’s kind of down-and-dirty singing, and it’s really great.”

Biel and Garner became friends on the shoot. “She’s incredibly girly and warm and open—all of the things she seems to buck against when she’s looking at roles,” says Garner. “The first scene that I did with her, she was drunk in the scene. It’s hard to play drunk, not to overdo it. But she did it in such a subtle, real, kind of pathetic but very, very deeply funny way. I was, take one, totally impressed.”

The dearth of good material has pushed Biel to diversify her portfolio, so to speak. Last August, she was cast alongside Brian Stokes Mitchell when the Los Angeles Philharmonic did a three-night concert version of Guys and Dolls at the Hollywood Bowl. Biel took everyone by surprise with what director Richard Jay-Alexander described as her beautiful, “silvery” singing voice. On the last night, she received a rousing standing ovation from 17,000 people. More recently, she landed a part in Lincoln Center Theater’s two-week-long workshop of the musical version of the Pedro Almodóvar classic Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, along with Salma Hayek, who plays the lead. “I think they are going to put it up in the fall,” she says hopefully. “And I think they will approach me again.” A girl can dream, can’t she? As far as Garner is concerned, Biel should: “There’s nothing between her and bigger things except for one job.”

The next morning we wake up to discover that the snow has turned to rain. By the time we arrive at the base of the mountain, there is only one gondola running, and the line stretches all the way through the village. Deflated, we decide to eat breakfast in a honky-tonk saloon that reeks of last night’s beer. Amid the German techno music, the Madonna/Justin Timberlake song “4 Minutes” suddenly blasts over the sound system, and we stare down at our plates awkwardly. Biel looks up at me with a big smile on her face and punctures the silence: “Dance break!” (We had another awkward moment in the car during our drive when Biel was talking about her style. “I like really überfeminine, classic-looking things mixed with something rougher around the edges. I’ve been looking at Rihanna a lot, checking her out. She’s got something going on that I am sort of craving a little bit.” I nearly choked on my trail mix. I could not tell whether this was a Freudian slip, some worrisome Single White Female voodoo, or a calculated little piece of spin designed to show me that she is unthreatened by the rumors that her man has eyes for the diva from Barbados.)

Biel and Timberlake have been an item since 2007 and for a long time looked like a happy couple. Recently, however, they have had to endure all manner of tabloid speculation about their private lives. Biel recently laughed off the rumors to a reporter, saying, “It’s definitely been weird and sort of bizarre to deal with. But you have to have a sense of humor about the whole thing. Honestly, I look at a magazine and they know more than I do.” Last night at dinner I brought it up and was met with steely resolve. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “I don’t feel the need to clear anything up. It’s the most precious thing that I have in my life, and I care about it so much that I don’t care about what anyone says or thinks. I have just not addressed it in any real way, and I’m not going to. It’s mine. And I really like that about it.”

There is something refreshing about a girl with boundaries, someone who has her priorities in order despite the relentlessness of the tabloids and the strangeness of doing drills in some warehouse far away from her own life. And if there is a sense that potentially great things await Jessica Biel—that she has not yet shown us who she is and what she is capable of—it’s hard not to wonder what exactly is holding her back.

One possible answer came up during our dinner, when we were talking about her va-va-voom image—so at odds with how she really is. “When I see myself in pictures with makeup on, even to this day, I think it looks weird. My eyes get squintier and smaller. On the red carpet, I’m playing a character. As soon as I get off that thing I think, Oof, wipe that gloss off. I’m wiping and wiping and pulling my hair out and trying to change my outfit. I’m immediately trying to get comfortable. It’s really a part I play.”

One wonders why she can’t just play herself. In person she projects such a winning and natural beauty. As Jennifer Garner puts it, “She’s not just beautiful, she’s kind of on another level, but there’s an earthiness and a strength to it.” Too much makeup and the wrong dress seem to smother all that, and it’s a disconnect that clearly extends to the roles she chooses.

We eventually make our way up the mountain, and above 1,200 feet, it is snowing: The skiing is sublime. Not surprisingly, Biel is both goofy and confident on her snowboard. Afterward, we head back to the hotel lounge; her assistant, Lindsay, joins us, and Biel orders an old-fashioned. At one point someone took a picture of her on the slopes and she said to me, “Smile for Biel.” Now she explains: “My grandmother, whom we call Biel, thinks it’s very unbecoming of me not to smile for the paparazzi. So every time I see them I think, Smile for Biel!”

This is a reminder of why Jessica Biel is so grounded: Her family keeps her that way. When I point this out, she says, “I might just be way too boring to ever be a really great actress.” Great actresses can live boring lives, I say. It’s great stars who kick dust up everywhere they go.

“I don’t do that,” says Biel. “Maybe I should do a little bit more of that.” She laughs at the thought. “A dust kicker-upper might be kind of fun. . . .”

Lindsay pipes up: “Think of your life if you were like that, though. I would probably hate you. Your boyfriend probably wouldn’t be that into you. You’d be a big bitch.” But it’s clear that Lindsay thinks the world of her boss. “If you met her at a barbecue, you would never know that she was a movie star,” she says. “To her friends, Jess is the most compassionate, caring, kind, loving, wonderful human being that they know.”

“See?” says Biel. “Nothing that interesting!”

#jessica biel #vogue #vogue magazine #scans #2010 #magazines #cover #vogue cover #Interviews #articles

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chaletnz · 10 months

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Last Day in Peru

I started my day off with another smoothie bowl from Freshii and then walked to a nearby post office to buy some stamps and send postcards out before I head back home tonight. I found a department store that I went for a browse around but all of the clothes there fit very weirdly and the brands I knew were way overpriced. I enjoyed my final Peruvian coffee at Artidoro Rodriguez Cafeteria because it was the actual café for the coffee bags I had bought at the supermarket that smelled so good. The coffee was great, possibly the best one of the entire trip, so we ended on a high note! I bought some pizza rolls and drinks from the supermarket and spent most of the day resting in my room as my flight was overnight. Once I had packed up most of my bag and watched some Netflix I went out for a final dinner at La Lucha Sangucheria Criolla, the same place I had eaten at twice in Arequipa because (as advertised) the fries were the best in Peru. This time I went for the Pollo Deluxe but I took out the jamon (ham) so it was just shredded chicken and cheese, plus a serving of fries with the sauce variety and one last fresh pineapple juice. The sandwich came with an egg on it which was not listed on the menu so I had to slide that out but it was really good. I was stuffed after dinner and walked back to the hostel for a quick shower before meeting my ride to the airport. The driver was crazy and aggressive, he was driving erratically and constantly swerving between lanes trying to get ahead. He wouldn’t let anyone merge in front of him, honking at them when they indicated to move over basically telling them “no” and speeding up. It was then very amusing when we got stuck trying to merge into the traffic and people wouldn’t let him in so he started yelling and honking, just an absolute idiot driver. I was so glad to get out at the airport and see the back of him. I walked up to the main doors of the airport and the guards wouldn’t let me inside without me finding my boarding pass on my phone first. I thought “mate I am obviously a tourist, wearing a massive backpack, here for my flight. I’m not some scammy local trying to get inside and flog off my old shit to people or panhandle for loose change.” The self check in computer didn’t work so I was unfortunately forced to line up to check in my bag but it didn’t take too long and I was very early knowing how chaotic this airport was. I spent the last of my Peruvian soles on some little snacks and a sloth salt and pepper set that would be perfect for our apartment. I tried to buy a big bottle of water to take on the plane but they told me that I wouldn’t be allowed because there is another security check for passengers travelling to the USA and they will take any liquids over 100ml. Ridiculous as I had already been through a screening checkpoint so now I would spend the next several hours with only the tiny water bottles they provide on the plane. Once I arrived in New York’s JFK in the morning I wasn’t surprised to see the immigration queues were 60 minutes for tourists. As a permanent resident it was only 30 minutes but still felt like forever to get through and get my McDonald’s on the other side (they were sold out of hash browns and it was so disappointing). A short uneventful flight to Denver, some Panda Express, and a shuttle ride later and I was home to distribute all my little knick knack souvenirs to the house!

#Peru #Lima

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allthingsfook · 1 year

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Hello! I heard you do ships and I would appreciate it so much if you did one for me! :)

My name is Ali. I’m 5’4” with long brown hair and blue eyes. I have two tattoos currently, and plan on getting some more! My favorite tattoo is a watercolor sunflower on my right inner forearm! Sunflowers hold such a significance to me as I love how they always stand tall and reach for the light.

Speaking of flowers, I am a big lover of nature. It grounds me and makes me feel at peace. I can be a little anxious at times so I love going for walks and seeing sunsets and being physically active. I also am an avid hiker. In the past couple of years, I have been to Wyoming and Montana and hiked Grand Teton and Glacier National Parks. I love the mountains so much and plan on making more trips!!

I love to travel. I’m quite adventurous, and love to explore different cultures and countries. So far, I’ve been to Austria, Czech Republic, and Costa Rica. I love learning and reading about different languages and cultures, and have dabbled in speaking some Spanish! I also am a huge English nerd, and am a 7-12 English teacher! I love to pass down my passions for reading and exploring different perspectives to my students.

I also am a huge lover of music. I have been Musical my whole life. I have played the piano since I was six and have been singing pretty much since I could speak. I was involved in choir all throughout high school and did and have a love for theatre as well. I also LOVE going to concerts and exploring different genres. My favorite is folk/acoustic. I have a whole folk playlist which I’m so proud of with artists such as Fleet Foxes, Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, John Denver, and so many more artists that mean the world to me. Folk music just matches my energy and soul, very calm and deep and meaningful. I would love to be able to share my thoughts about this kind of music with someone.

As for my personality, I’m definitely an old soul type of person. I’m more ambiverted. I can be extroverted when I want to be, but also am introverted and need to recharge sometimes. I’m a Capricorn Sun, Taurus Moon, Scorpio Rising. I’m definitely hard working, independent, and ambitious, but also extremely sensitive and emotional as well. I think I’d ideally want someone similar to me in that we are both independent, but who can take care of one another and be soft at the same time. I’ve definitely been the “mom friend” my whole life, and to have someone match that energy would be glorious and mean the world to me.

Okay I think this is more than enough info haha! So sorry this is so long! 🥰

Hey Hey Ali!! You heard right!!!! I apologize for not being so prompt, but I’ve had my eye on these ships…. So here it is!!!!

I ship you with….

No surprise, Josh!

Im not big on shipping people based on their physical descriptions, but I love to compliment them because I know all of the boys are obsessed with the beauty of women… inside and out. Josh would be so in love and jealous of your blue eyes. He’d gaze into them with such intent and affection when the sun makes them glisten. He’d immediately compliment your tattoos as he finds them as a great expression of yourself and art all in one. Once you share the significance of sunflowers to you, they’d follow Josh around, forcing him to think of you. Every year he would make it a point to take you to sunflower patches…. Anything to watch your soul light up.

Nature is also a place of worship for Josh. I could see the both of you spending most of your days basking in it. Whether is lounging in the sun or planing a day of outdoor activities to keep you busy, all that matters is your outside! I could see you and Josh deciding to buy a property outside of Nashville…. Getting out of the hustle and bustle. The selling point on the property would be the sun rise and sun set visibility. Every morning Josh would wake up to enjoy the sun rise while he meditates on the front porch. And every evening, the two of you would walk the fence line and soak up the sun set. A precious time for the both of you to spend with one another.

Josh would undoubtedly be your travel buddy! His appreciation and curiosity for different cultures and ways of life runs so deep. He is such a sponge for it all, so when researching it becomes stale…. He has to experience it for himself. Plane ticket is bought, bags are packed, and you guys are on your way!!!! Also, Josh would love the fact that you are a teacher. Clearly there are a lot of role models in his life that are teachers. I think he has such a soft spot for them. They are building the foundation for new generations. After all, we do not live forever, and so we must raise coming generations with love, kindness, and acceptance. I’m certain that is a huge goal for you as a teacher, Josh would agree and be so proud of you for that.

Sounds like Josh would also be proud of his lady’s music taste too!!! You have immaculate taste! Folk seems to be right up Josh’s alley (even if he says Danny draws the most inspiration from it) I could see you dancing to Fleet Foxes in the kitchen at 3 am. The dim glow of a night light sparkling in his eyes as he admires you. He’d plant a soft kiss on your lips and tuck his head into your neck. I know he’d also be attracted to your musical abilities. No doubt the two of you would station yourselves at the piano and play off each others talent. I easily imagine you guys improving a tune and it sticking with him. So much so that when their new album comes out, you can hear a familiar tune in the background of the forth track.

A self proclaimed old soul is so in line with Josh. If you haven’t heard, he’s such a peepaw. Although a lot of that is surely a facade or one of his alter egos, he truly is captured by the simpler things in life. As elaborate and flashy as their stage presence is, Josh clearly settles into a more sophisticated and uncomplicated lifestyle away from performing. When all the tour commotion dies down, I think he wants to come home to his rock and safe space…. That being you!!!

All the words you used to describe yourself are so powerful!!! Hard working…YES! Independent…YES! Ambitious…YES! No doubt you radiate that energy and Josh lives for that! All the good vibes! Not only would he be so proud of you for seeing that in yourself, but grateful that those vibes affect all around you! And you know what?! Being sensitive is okay! Being emotional is okay! That’s being real. Feelings are real and expressing them is healthy! Josh would be the biggest advocate of this message. He’d hold you up on your best days and guide you through your worst days. I couldn’t think of anything more amazing. Josh has such big love and concern for everyone in his life, so fear not. This man takes care of everyone he crosses paths with. You’d never find someone so kind.

To wrap this up, I hope you love the ship! I hope it finds you well after all this time. Pleaseee share your feelings and thoughts… I always love to hear ❤️❤️

#greta van fleet #gvf #gvfships #gvf moodboard #peaceful army #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake kiszka #danny gvf #danny wagner #sam gvf #jake gvf #songships #gretavanfleet ships #greta van fluff #gvf imagine

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kiloskywalker · 2 years

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Finally back home!

I had a quite busy 3 day trip for work and it was a doozy. I thought I’d share some maps for those interested in my day job flying around (when I’m not obessing that is...) Thursday 12/8: A busy day that started early in the morning with a deadhead flight from my home base in Washington DC (DCA-National Airport) to Chicago O’Hare (ORD). Deadheading is essentially when a pilot is flying as a passenger in order to get to another base. All in all the day would take me as cockpit crew from: Chicago (ORD)-Houston (IAH)-Austin (AUS)-Houston (IAH)-Nashville (BNA)-Chicago (ORD)-Denver (DEN). I would arrive at the crew hotel in Denver, Colorado very late at night. Here is a map of Thursday’s flights:

Friday 12/9: Friday was another long day that would take me out from Denver to California and back to Denver for the night. It included another deadhead flight on an Embraer E-175 (a smaller jet than what I normally fly) from San Francisco to San Diego. The routing was Denver (DEN)-San Francisco (SFO)-San Diego (SAN)-Denver (DEN) getting back to the same crew hotel in the mid evening.

Saturday 12/10 Today I had just two flights to get me from Denver back to my home base in Washington and I would be cockpit crew on both of them. They were pretty chill on both flights, and my captain and I were both trying to get updates from the two World Cup games that were ongoing. Our routing was Denver (DEN)-Chicago (ORD)-Washington (DCA) and it included a long sit (kind of like a layover for flight crew) at Chicago O’Hare. I don’t mind O’Hare to be quite honest, I grew up in Chicago and flew out of that airport more times than I can count so every time I fly through, I try to spot the area where I grew up from the cockpit. I imagine little “Kilo” staring up at the planes flying over and freaking out about how he gets to live his dream job.

And here’s the plane after I finally made it back to Washington DC after a long trip!

I love talking about my job as much as I can and in the spirit of trying to be more active on here than on other social media, I’ll intersperse my Tarlos fanboying with these pseudo-trip reports! Feel free to ask any questions if you have any!

#planes #non tarlos related #trips #911 lone star

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awriterintorment · 1 year

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Inspired by gravity falls

(This is a Rough draft, i don’t know if I’ll finish it but please enjoy, feel free to give criticism or suggestions!) Her phone let out a small sound as the car passed the sign welcoming them into the small town, “Welcome to Star Fall!” The sign rusted and graffitied with one of the wooden legs looking quite thin and rotted, she sunk into the front seat as, ‘Game Over!’ flashed over her phone screen screen her father glancing over at her frowning a bit, “you know why we had to move June bug, I know you had to leave all your friends behind, but think about it this way! You can make even more friends! Explore new things! Try new food and such!” He gave an excited smile as he focused back on the road their little van stuttering a little as they went over a large pothole. “If the car stops in the middle of nowhere I’m heading back to Denver” she muttered turning off her phone and hooking it up to the unoccupied charger. They passed a few sprinkled outsider cabins of those who preferred to live alone, her eyes catching onto a home/shop with a giant sign labeled, “Monster shack!” and a tour bus with multiple foolish people filtering out. “Maybe I should check it out when we’re done unpacking” she thought as they began to enter the town passing by shops, restaurants, a library, a small museum and what looked to be a police station. They went through all of that going off onto beaten path their van rattling as it went over the uneven road it probably would take longer to walk on foot but in the car it took no time at all they came across a newly renovated two story farm house with a little barn on the side, “Sooo how you like it June?” Her father asked as he stopped right in front of it looking hopefully at his daughter, “it’s… not to bad” she murmured getting her phone unplugged and into her pocket opening up the door, making sure to unbuckle herself before hopping out. She stretched herself out as her father soon joined her, she heard him groan and his bones pop as he twisted and turned his body, “Sure hope we have a chiropractor around here we’re gonna need it after that trip” he commented as he opened the back of the van, “thankfully I paid extra to get the movers to unpack all our things for us! Though some things might be out of place, that and we have what we got in the van too” June went to help already grabbing a couple boxes to take to their new home. They arrived at the start of the day but by the time they had got everything out of the van, got them in their respective places and almost fully unpacked them the sun was beginning to go down and they both were more then hungry. “June bug, what do you say we go out in the town and have something to eat and a break” he called up to her as she placed on of their family portraits on the wall, it was when she went fishing with him one summer a stranger had kindly taken the photo for them she was holding up a fish twice her size one that nearly took her and her father off the dock. She smiled a tiny bit before going downstairs opting to slid down the railing stumbling a bit as she hopped off at the very end, “It’ll be fun! You might make some new friends, meet some people, try the local food and such!” He smiled at her as he went to the door digging his keys out of his pockets getting a simple nod in return as they went out the door and to the empty van covered in travel stickers, small dents and scratches. She glanced at their bikes sitting locked up to the porch as she stood by the passenger side door as her father fiddled with the fob trying to unlock it though that thankfully didn’t take long, once again they were in their van driving off though this time they were going simply just to get food and to get a break from the tedious work of unpacking their things.

The ride was less quite then their last one, the radio had been turned onto the only station it had a static filled station with some elevator music, it changed from area to area but always had the same amount of static every time. They were slowed down now this time focused on looking at the sights, “Well look at that! There’s a mansion just on top of the hill! Can’t escape the rich huh?” Her father pointed to a large looming mansion that looked over the small town she could faintly see the a rather fancy limo heading up the hill. She just nodded a bit as she observed the small yet lively town the people there were odd to her, they talked to one another offered gifts, maybe even hugged on a rare occasion it was different then the city quite different, she almost dreaded the conversations she’d be forced to have and the needless information she’d have to hear honestly she’d rather spend her time exploring the surrounding forests. “Well! This looks like quite the place!” Her thoughts were drawn away by her Father as he slowed their van down on front of a packed diner, well as packed as a diner in a small town can get in the late evening the place was shabby almost like what you would expect a hole in the wall place would be. Yet it stood out there was not a single building quite close to it every side had parking spaces to spare and the road even split to go towards the place, “Let’s try this place June Bug!” She really didn’t feel like this was the smart option, “Is that a raccoon?” She thought as her eyes caught onto a rather fat raccoon squeezing out from what looked to be a doggy door slowly trodding off to what suspiciously looked to be the diner’s dumpster, she quickly looked at her Father who seemed to be none the wiser as he pulled in, “I’m going to die to a raccoon’s restaurant” she thought as the van let out a small squeal as it parked she was more then hesitant to exit the car but decided to try and have faith in her Father’s questionable food choices. Entering the diner it seemed a little homey like the places they had stopped by on their way here yet definitely needed repairs, “I didn’t see a food safety sign or is it somewhere else?” She looked around hoping that at least the kitchen would be out in the open for her to judge wether or not to even order anything yet it was blocked by the dreaded wall. The two were greeted by an older lady (well she looked older anyway) with a patch over one of her eyes, (to be continued)

#rough draft

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freewayinsurance · 2 years

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10 Country Songs About Cars and Driving

Are you planning a road trip and tired of audio books?

When you’re on a road trip, no matter where you are headed, nothing makes the miles pass by quicker than a good country tune. And just like you need reliable car insurance, you need to know some good tunes to jam out to on the open road.

Not that familiar with country songs about cars? We’ve got you covered. Keep reading to discover the best songs about cars and the best songs about being on the road!

1. “Cruise” by Florida Georgia Line

If you’re looking for a country song about cars, it’s tough to go wrong with “Cruise” by Florida Georgia Line. In fact, it’s difficult to even think about the name of this song without thinking about breezy lyrics such as “Baby you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down / and cruise!”

While the lyrics are nice and light, they touch on a fundamental truth: A great drive feels a bit like falling in love. Plus, with the open road and the right music, you can experience that feeling again and again.

2. “Let’s Go to Vegas” by Faith Hill

They say it’s more about the journey than the destination. However, in “Let’s Go to Vegas,” Faith Hill makes it clear that a cool destination can make all the difference. This is one of the best songs about cars because it reminds us of the awesome places these vehicles can take us.

This funny song about combining marriage and a killer road trip also serves to remind us of the simple joys in life. “You’re my ace in the hole, I’m your lady luck / Pack a few things and a little money, put ’em in the truck,” Hill sings. Translation: Whether we’re talking about driving, loving, or both, all we need is a good truck to get us where we’re going!

3. “East Bound and Down” by Jerry Reed

“East Bound and Down” by Jerry Reed was always destined to be one of the greatest songs about being on the road. After all, it features lyrics that make us want to turn on the speed, including “Keep your foot hard on the pedal / Son, never mind them brakes / Let it all hang out ’cause we got a run to make.”

Even without those killer lyrics, this song was featured prominently in Smokey and the Bandit, and that’s a film that always gives us the need for speed!

4. “Life Is a Highway” by Rascal Flatts

No list of country songs about cars and trucks would be complete without “Life Is a Highway” by Rascall Flatts. After all, this is a song that goes all-in on the idea that the open road is a metaphor for our very lives.

“Life is a highway, I wanna ride it all night long / If you’re going my way, I wanna drive it all night long.” This isn’t just a song about driving a car: it’s a song about driving our own lives into one unforgettable moment after another! Not to mention, this lively tune is bound to perk you up if you get tired on the open road.

5. “On the Road Again” by Willie Nelson

Since its release, Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again” has been one of the greatest songs about being on the road. It’s because the singer paints such a powerful portrait of traveling with your friends: “We’re the best of friends / Insisting that the world keep turning our way / And our way / Is on the road again.”

Nelson’s words ring true to wandering hearts everywhere, and if your own way “is on the road again,” you’ll be sure to crank this song up next time you hit the highway.

6. “Take Me Home (Country Roads)” by John Denver

Just admit it. You started humming this song as soon as you read the name!

While the lyrics themselves are tinged with quite a bit of sadness, it’s tough to deny the almost primal appeal of John Denver’s “Take Me Home.” For travelers who are far from home and missing their loved ones, this song will always represent our bittersweet longing to stop cruising, turn the car off, and run through our front door.

7. “I’ve Been Everywhere” by Johnny Cash

Do you love to travel for fun? Or maybe you’ve just lived in many places? Either way, Johnny Cash’s “I’ve Been Everywhere” may just be your anthem.

There’s a lot of fun singing along as Cash sings how he’s lived in places like “Louisville, Nashville, Knoxville, Ombabika, Schefferville, Jacksonville,” and so on. Listening to it, you’re sure to get deep into some memories about all the roads you’ve driven down before.

8. “Take a Back Road” by Rodney Atkins

Why might you need some great country songs about cars and trucks? Well, like Rodney Atkins in “Take a Back Road,” you may just “wanna take the long way home, put a little gravel in my travel.”

We love this song because it emphasizes how every single drive can be magical, even down the humblest back roads. The trick is to spot the everyday magic lurking outside the windows of your classic car.

9. “Drive (for Daddy Gene)” by Alan Jackson

Alan Jackson’s “Drive (for Daddy Gene)” is definitely one of the best songs about cars. However, this unabashed tribute to the singer’s late father always brings tears to our eyes.

That’s because he wears his heart on his sleeve with lyrics like “I’d sit up in the seat and stretch my feet out to the pedals / Smiling like a hero that just received his medal.” As you listen, it won’t be long before you remember those days long ago when your own dad taught you how to drive.

10. “The Road Goes on Forever” by Robert Earl Keen

Country songs about cars always make us want to hit the road. Even when the lyrics take us to some dark places!

That’s what happens in Robert Earl Keen’s “The Road Goes On Forever.” Sure, the story of the song may have a sad ending, but it’s tough to be sad when singing to lyrics like “The road goes on forever, and the party never ends.”

Country Songs About Cars: Beyond the Music

Now you know the best country songs about cars, but do you know who can help protect your car while you’re cruising around?

Here at Freeway Insurance, we help keep you on the road by protecting the car you love. Get started with a competitive quote online, or you can come and visit us at a local office near you or give us a call at (800) 777-5620.

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girlyandunruly · 2 years

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2022: Hard time balancing work with a well-lived life.

I felt overwhelmed constantly with how much responsibility I have and still trying to maintain our house chores, errands, cooking, exercising, my hobbies, trips and social life. After pandemic period I wanted to get back to “normal” but seems I can’t go back to who I was. The amount of planning and coordination it takes to do anything has been getting to me. I made too many plans, I traveled almost every month of the year (by plane) and a few months multiple times. Normally this would be fun, but going from not traveling at all for a year, to doing so many trips, it messed with the routine I had established. At the beginning of 2022 I had felt that so much time was wasted during the 2-year pandemic that I needed to catch up, but I over did it. So, for 2023 I’ll focus on not doing too much, only the necessary. I already said “No” to a friend inviting me to Arizona in March. That’s a start!

Though overwhelmed with preparations and airport madness, the moment I’m at my destination I forget all about the treacherous journey and have the best time. Memories that stay with me forever, even the bad ones are good lessons learned and make me laugh now. Travel recap:

JANUARY:

Spent a week in Vail working and snowboarding with Kevin.

FEBRUARY:

Kevin took me to Mexico (Holbox and Playa del Carmen) for my 37th birthday.

MARCH:

Birmingham, MI for Luka’s baby shower that my mom and I hosted.

APRIL:

I traveled to Fort Worth, TX to attend a conference where Barr Engineering was one of the sponsors and I attended as the only representative.

JUNE:

Poland road trip with my mom. Drove over 700 miles between Warsaw, Krakow, Auschwitz, Wroclaw, Poznan and Gdansk. Every town was adorable and Auschwitz was heartbreaking but a must see.

JULY:

Taos and Santa Fe, NM for 4th of July.

Birmingham, MI for Demi’s 3rd birthday and meeting new nephew Luka.

AUGUST:

Portugal road trip for our 4 year wedding anniversary.

SEPTEMBER:

Rock climb with Mary at Redmond, OR.

OCTOBER:

Minneapolis, MN for work training where I did an ESG presentation.

Cabo, Mexico for Pearl and Owen’s wedding.

Scottsdale, AZ for Elizabeth and Jeff’s wedding.

NOVEMBER:

Nashville, TN for a conference where I was the only Barr Engineering representative.

Flagstaff, AZ for Thanksgiving with Kevin’s family: his dad, Justin and (very pregnant) Vanessa.

DECEMBER:

Houston for Christmas with the family. We had a flight back to Denver scheduled for Dec 26 on Southwest but after a winter storm a few days prior to the date, SW cancelled almost all of their flights. It was chaos, we couldn’t find a flight back on any airline until 3 days later so we decided last minute to rent a pickup truck and drive 15 hours from Houston to Denver. And so glad we did because SW kept cancelling flights days later and our luggage would probably be lost.

The times I wasn’t traveling but stayed in Denver were memorable:

1. Danny Elfman’s music from the films of Tim Burton

2. Marijuana Mansion tour for my birthday.

3. Denver Derby was back, and I created a gnome themed hat!

4. Hosted adorable girls tea party at Babe’s Tea Room.

5. Had 90s nostalgia with Kate at the F.R.I.E.N.D.S set

6. I hosted Elizabeth’s bachelorette celebration

7. Best of all, our annoying neighbors got two adorable kittens this year and they started hanging out in our front yard a lot. They would come visit us every day that we started buying cat toys, catnip and snacks. After a few months, the cats now hangout inside the house and we consider ourselves co-owners.

We finished big renovations in the house:

The back parlor was completely renovated (floors, roof, ceilings, electrical, walls).

Front porch concrete and posts redone.

New front door.

The outside of the house repainted.

I think we are finally done with house upgrades. 2023 will be the first year of just regular maintenance and no more weekends of long hours at Home Depot.

Baby news!

My brother and Tracey had their healthy baby boy Luka on May 19, 2022.

Kevin’s brother Justin and Vanessa got pregnant with a boy, due in February 2023.

Last but not least WORLD CUP MADNESS. It was a bit strange to have World Cup games in November/December but it brought a lot of fun exciting times even though Netherlands ended up losing against Argentina. The dutch boys fought to the end, 2-2, going to penalty kicks -where they never win on penalties UGH the curse- but the game was rated top 3 most exciting games of the WC. Watched probably 80% of all games, I even took days off from work to just watch games all day, can’t wait for Euro Cup! #futbolislife

We ended the New Years celebrating with Elizabeth and Jeff. And after-party with Dylan and Holly. Too much fun. Grateful for these friendships <3

Our 2022 Adventures recap video:

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years

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Fucking hell.

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Ian Tyson, Canadian country music legend, died today at age 89. It wasn’t a huge shock, because like I said, 89. He lived a long life, and it’s not like I thought he was ever going to make any more music (I feel weird saying that, like his only value was whether he’d produce more art for public consumption – but also, losing out on that is the tangible effect a celebrity death has on the public, and besides that his loss is felt by the people who actual knew and cared about him, as it should be). It’s not like I thought I’d ever see him live again, though I now feel more lucky than ever that I got to see him once.

Okay, I’m going to do that annoying thing where a celebrity dies and I make a post like this on social media, because this has got some memories floating back in my head and this blog is where I post things that float back in my head. Memories I have related to Ian Tyson:

- The fiftieth anniversary of the Mariposa Folk Festival in Orillia, Ontario was in 2010. Most summers my dad and I tried to go to our hometown folk festival and to at least one other, and that year, we chose to take a road trip and get a hotel for the weekend so we could be at Mariposa. That’s a relatively big one, and it drew very big names for its fiftieth anniversary. The biggest name was Gordon Lightfoot, and a close second was Ian Tyson. This isn’t just my opinion; it was laid out clearly in the lineup at the mainstage on Sunday night (where they put the biggest names in ascending order, as it’s the last night): Fred Eaglesmith, Lynn Miles, Murray McLauchlan, Sylvia Tyson, Ian Tyson, Blue Rodeo (surprise guests that were added to just a few songs right before the headliner, great band but in a normal running order they would not be ahead of either Tyson), Gordon Lightfoot. And it was… okay, as I write this I realize that list of names will mean nothing to anyone reading this, but trust me, that’s a big deal. That’s one of the best lineups I’ve ever seen in one night at any folk festival.

To understand the significance of what happened that night, I have to explain Ian and Sylvia. They were hippie-type folk singers in Toronto in the 1950s, where they met each other at the folk clubs that still existed back then. They started playing together, formed a duo called Ian & Sylvia, and got married in 1964. They played together for about fifteen years, during which time they released twelve albums. In 1975, they got divorced. Ian Tyson moved to Alberta to live on a ranch, train horses, and make solo music that was more country (now that he was an actual cowboy to back it up). Sylvia Tyson stayed in Ontario and had a solo career as a folk singer.

All of this – Ian’s solo stuff, Sylvia’s solo stuff, and the Ian & Sylvia albums – have been huge parts of Canadian folk and country music history. But their biggest contribution was the title track of the second Ian & Sylvia album, Four Strong Winds, released in 1963. Four Strong Winds, a song about a guy who moves to Alberta and is trying to convince his romantic partner to join him, is basically the Canadian anthem. I mean, it’s the Canadian anthem if you happen to be into folk music, which is my explanation to any Canadians who may be reading this and saying, “Well I’ve never heard of it.” But also, you might have! Four Strong Winds is one of those Canadian folk songs that made it so big that sometimes even people from my generation or younger, who aren’t specifically into folk music, end up knowing it.

Four Strong Winds was written by Ian Tyson, and has been recorded solo by Ian Tyson, but it was originally recorded by Ian & Sylvia together. It’s also been recorded by fucking everyone, highlights include: Neil Young, Bob Dylan, John Denver, Waylon Jennings, Johnny Cash, Hank Snow, Joan Baez, Sarah McLachlan, and Judy Collins. Weirdly, despite all the people who’ve done it, I think my favourite cover of Four Strong Winds is by Blue Rodeo. My favourite version, obviously, is the original. It kind of has to be.

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Ian and Sylvia Tyson were huge on the Canadian folk scene for so many years – years before I was born, but I know it was a big deal. Then after their divorce, they didn’t appear on stage together. It was a big deal, especially because that original version of Four Strong Winds, with Ian and Sylvia harmonizing, was so iconic in Canadian music. That duet was lost when the duo broke up.

So. That night in July 2010. I’m sitting in a lawn chair in a field in Orillia, Ontario, next to my dad, who loves this stuff like I do, and it’s been a wonderful weekend. We’d seen some fantastic music over the last couple of days, and that night, we’d been treated to someone openers who would be headliners at many other festivals.

Then Sylvia Tyson came out. She played an amazing set, and even though she was quite old by then, her voice hadn’t gone off at all. I had my eyes closed for almost the whole thing, enjoying the music. She was engaging and engaged. Then she left the stage, the MC came back out to say some variation of, “Holy shit I can’t believe we got that, really can’t believe what’s next,” and out came Ian. The sun began to set as we heard songs about horses and cowboys and the Rocky Mountains. If I’m very honest, his voice had started to go, it sounded a bit scratchy from a combination of age and what I later read in the newspaper was blamed on a cold. But I didn’t mind. I’d never seen Ian Tyson live before. My dad had seen him live in the 80s, but I hadn’t, and I was just in awe of being in the same place as someone that legendary. Ian Tyson had a couple of guys with him, backing up on vocals and guitar, enough so his vocals alone never needed to carry a whole song.

At the end of his set, as we all expected, he started to sing Four Strong Winds. The audience began to sing along, and it was one of those amazing folk festival moments, when you really feel on the same page, at the same level of appreciation for what’s happening, as everyone around you. I was twenty years old, probably less than a third of the average age in that crowd, but it felt like my people. We all knew this song.

And then, halfway through, Ian beckoned to the side of the stage, and out came Sylvia with a mic in her hand. The audience erupted into applause, but remained respectful; I could feel every person in that crowd trying to work out how to express their joy without interrupting the incredible experience of hearing this song live, by its original singers. Ian and Sylvia sang the last half of the song together, and at the end they gave each other a hug, and the entire audience got on their feet and cheered.

Afterward, my dad looked it up and worked out that they’d done a couple of reunion shows since originally breaking up in 1975, but this was the first time they’d appeared on stage together in at least 15 years. I feel ridiculously lucky to have gotten to witness it, given that I was born too late to have any business being part of this. Obviously what made it special was actually being there, and no video can capture that, but someone did get a bit of it on tape on put it on YouTube, which I enjoy re-watching sometimes:

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So that’s the first of my Ian Tyson memories. I’ll only do a couple more.

- About six years ago, my dad went on a business trip to Banff. We were lucky enough to be able to organize things so I could go with him, and we had a few days when he wasn’t working and we got to just drive around the area. Banff is a town in Alberta’s Rocky Mountains, and we did a couple of hours-long road trip through other towns, as well as many kilometres of mountain roads. It was absolutely beautiful. I think I can say that I’ve never, in my whole life, seen anything as beautiful as the Rocky Mountains. Maybe a couple of things in New Zealand? I don’t know, I think the Rockies might even beat all of that.

While we drove, we played Ian Tyson pretty much the whole time. After he moved to Alberta, Ian Tyson dedicated most of his career to singing about that province and its history and beauty. Including lots of songs about the mountains themselves, trying for the impossible task of capturing a little of what they’re like. Here’s one:

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Even the Ian Tyson songs that aren’t specifically about the Rocky Mountains are still the right soundtrack for it thematically. Nothing needed to be added to those drives to make them magical, but Ian Tyson somehow managed to add to them. My dad and I spent hours driving, with no sound but Ian Tyson’s voice filling up the rental car, in awe of our surroundings. I had a bunch of his albums on my iPod, and we played several of them all the way through multiple times. It’s one of my favourite memories of my whole life.

- Last October, I turned 31. I was at my grandparents’ place at the time, on the other side of the country. Alberta is in Western Canada; my grandparents’ place was on the East Coast. My mother and I spent a few months out there, helping out with things because they were getting less and less able to take care of themselves and their home on their own. Since then, they’ve moved out of there and into a care home near my parents.

The problem is partly that they were just getting older, but also that my grandfather’s Alzheimer's was advancing. He still knew who we were and everything, still knew where he was and what happened in day-to-day life, was still holding on to being a basic level of “functional”. But he was getting worse.

It was a tough few visit at times, with fights sometimes breaking out between my grandparents because he got stressed out and overwhelmed so easily, and she got frustrated. I shouldn’t complain because I also got to spend a couple of months in an incredibly beautiful place that I love with people I love. But it was, at times, difficult.

One of the things I was asked to do, as the resident young(-ish) person, was take all the CDs in my grandfather’s collection and digitize them, and then transfer that to his iPod. They knew they wouldn’t be able to stay in the house much longer, and he couldn’t bring his whole CD collection into a home, so this would be a way for him to keep his music.

It took me a couple of days to do all that, and then I called my grandfather into his office. I sat him down and showed him his iTunes, with all those song titles and artists and albums just waiting to be clicked on. No need to take out each CD, you can just have any song you want at your fingertips. My grandfather took the mouse and clicked on a Pavarotti song, and it filled the room. He put his head back, listened, and I saw tears form in his eyes almost immediately. “I haven’t heard this in years,” he said. “I thought this was in my past. I thought I didn’t have it any more.” I told him I’d made it so he could listen to all of it any time he wanted, and with more tears, he said, “You brought it back. It was gone, I’d lost it, but you brought the music back.” High praise for someone who’d just ripped some CDs into iTunes, but I knew what he meant. They’d been gone from his mind, he wouldn’t even think to put on most of those CDs because he’d forgotten they’d existed, but here he could see them all laid out, so as far as he was concerned, they’d just come back.

I’d planned to go into the city a couple of days later, the night of my birthday. I’d wanted to spend it hearing whatever live music they had on at my favourite Celtic pub. But when the day came, we looked at the COVID numbers, and I realized I couldn’t justify it. I could have gone. I think it would have been safe. It was a small city in a small province where high COVID numbers didn’t mean anywhere near as much as they do in bigger places. But still, I couldn’t take the risk while staying with my grandparents. I stayed in and tried not to be disappointed, as it’s hardly the biggest sacrifice anyone’s made during this pandemic.

It ended up being one of my favourite birthdays I’ve ever had. No one was in a bad mood. We went into a nearby small town and ate lunch on their patio, and in the evening, we put out crackers and dip and wine. I grabbed an iPod speaker and my own iPod as well as my grandfather’s. I asked him what he wanted to hear, and he said it was my birthday. I said what I wanted for my birthday was to see him as happy as he’d been two days earlier, sitting in his office and listening to his favourite music. He asked for Ian Tyson.

We then spent a couple of amazing hours in which I put on various Ian Tyson songs. Each time I asked my grandfather if he knew it, and he said yes. Each time, we all thought he might be just pretending to remember, as he often did with things, but then he sang along and proved he really knew it. He’d tell some story about the first time he heard this song, about what it meant to him. He had a story for almost every song, since he’d grown up alongside that music. He’d grown up almost exactly alongside it, as Ian Tyson died today at age 89, and my grandfather turns 90 in a week.

I can’t imagine any night at a pub being better than a few hours of Ian Tyson with my grandfather. He got tears in eyes again from some of the songs, talking about how long it had been since he’d heard them. I’d planned to play a variety of artists, but I ended up pretty much sticking to Ian Tyson all night, because I loved it and my grandfather loved it so why not?

The next morning, I met my mother and grandparents in the kitchen, and said something about taking out eggs for a post-birthday breakfast. My grandfather said, “Birthday? Whose birthday is it?” I told him it was my birthday, and he said, “Oh. Happy birthday.” I said no, it was yesterday, and he said, “Nobody told me that.” That was the first time any of us had seen him forget something both that big and that recent.

It’s weird to me that I think of that night as such a bonding moment, by my grandfather doesn’t remember it, so did bonding really take place? Alzheimer's definitely gives you an appreciation for living in the moment, for understanding that moments have meaning if they don’t make a lasting impact, not even in everyone’s memories. I feel lucky to have had that night while it was occurring, even if it had dissipated by the next morning.

In the home where my grandparents live now, he regularly listens to his iPod, and Ian Tyson is one of his go-to singers to put on. When we heard the news this afternoon, my mother said she’s going to wait until tomorrow to call her father and tell him Ian Tyson’s dead. Give it one more day before breaking that news.

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edaworks · 2 years

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Wasteland Survival Guide: Travel Talk - The Great American Road Trip (Commonwealth & Capital Wasteland -> New Vegas and Points West)

- Wow, so uh, you all really liked my post on foot travel between Fallout 3 and Fallout 4 locations, so buckle up and get ready for round two. Hello again, and welcome to my second absurdly niche TED talk on realistic travel in the Fallout universe (for fanfiction and tabletop RP purposes)

- Today we will be covering a topic that I have seen several people ask/post about: travel between Eastern and Western US locations in the Fallout universe, i.e., “how do I get my Courier to interact with my east coasters/how do I travel across the US when my last name isn’t Maxson”

- Good news, everyone: I have questionable and way-overthought answers for you – this time with maps

- I’m limiting this to FO:NV for western US areas because this is already a MONSTER post

- There are actually many good routes for this (I’ve driven some of them) but the simplest route takes your party from downtown DC to Las Vegas, NV – a distance of 2,421 miles – while only changing roads four to five times

- Most of that distance is on two highways: one you might know (I-70), and another we all know WAY too well (I-15, or the “Long 15” from FONV – yes it’s real and yes God help me I’ve driven long parts of it in rental cars)

- SO for starters I’d like to introduce those of you who may be unfamiliar to Interstate 70 (I-70), a highway that is the bane of my existence near and dear to my heart

- I-70 is long. VERY long. The “Long 15” in Fallout: NV is an impostor. IRL, the I-15 is 1,433.52 miles long. I-70 is 2,151 miles long. (I-70 isn’t even the longest US highway - I-90 clocks in at 3,020.44 miles, and spans coast to coast, from Seattle, Washington to Boston, Massachusetts. More on that later.) The US Federal Highway Administration gave us a great infographic for how stupidly long I-70 is when they tested new sign fonts in the early 2000s (there’s one of these at either end of I-70)

- This sign shows approximate distances in miles from I-70’s eastern end at the Baltimore Beltway (I-695) to Columbus, Ohio; St. Louis, Missouri; Denver, Colorado and Cove Fort, Utah

- That’s right – you can get most of the way across the mid-latitude continental US via one road (or by following a single post-apocalyptic rubble-and-tarmac pile). Map below (the mileage in the map is actually 30mi. off because Google Maps)

- Good news for your party: it is easy to get to I-70 from FO3 locations

- I-70 is either on, or just north of, the FO3 base game map based upon the locations you can travel to in-game. Why do I say "on or north of”? Well, Todd Howard & co. seem to have combined the continuity-of-government facility called Raven Rock Mountain Complex (in PA, way north of I-70) with another continuity-of-government facility called Mount Weather (in Virginia and way south of I-70) to give us the Enclave base “Raven Rock.” (The stuff we see in in-game Raven Rock seems to combine the publicly stated functions of both IRL facilities). So, it’s possible that I-70 is on the FO3 map and unmarked, or it’s alternatively possible that it falls a very short distance north of the map. Here is a map showing Raven Rock (pink icon north of I-70) and Mt. Weather (pink icon south of I-70) to illustrate the confusion. (Those of you who play FO76 will see some very familiar location names on this map as well)

- All of that said here are suggested routes from the Krispy Kreme outside the Dupont Circle metro stop in DC to the western end of I-70 in Cove Fort, UT -

Be adventurous and follow the Metro tunnels (uhhhh if MacCready isn’t in your party, anyway; please spare him) from Dupont Circle to Shady Grove Station; from there follow the I-370 spur to I-270 northbound to I-70 westbound; continue west until you hit Cove Fort, UT

Follow Connecticut Ave. NW north out of DC until you hit I-495 (DC Beltway); take this to I-270 northbound to I-70; continue westbound

- If coming from points on the Fallout 4 map and heading to points on the Fallout NV map, and you have followed I-95 south to Baltimore, MD – from I-95 southbound, follow the Baltimore beltway (I-695) to I-70.

If taking this route use the Baltimore Beltway’s outer loop/head westbound – if you take the inner loop/go eastbound around the Baltimore beltway you’re risking the Key Bridge being washed out.

Also, definitely start following I-695 when your party hits it the first time, not the second. I know it’s tempting to just barrel over the north side of the beltway/stay on I-95 south until you hit downtown and then try to take the Beltway’s inner loop north to I-70. There must be all kinds of phat lewts in downtown Baltimore, right, and this route would let your party investigate on the way? But to do this you’d have to get off I-95 and onto I-895 to go through the Harbor Tunnel which probably would have flooded in the intervening 210 years. End result? Your party is now stranded on the wrong side of the Harbor. No bueno

But hey, if you do hit up Baltimore’s Inner Harbor and survive, you can go see the USS Constellation, sister ship to the USS Constitution - that’s the rocket-powered tall ship crewed by robots in Fallout 4 - so that’s fun

- Once you get to Cove Fort, UT, your party will discover the best part about I-70: the road it dead-ends into. Everyone please welcome back the highway you spent half your #$!*ing life on as Courier 6 in Fallout NV

- That’s right: I-70 takes you all the way across the US from the Fallout 3 map and plunks you directly onto the I-15, FONV’s main north-south thoroughfare

- Bonus: I-15 takes you from Cove Fort, UT to Las Vegas, NV by way of Mount Zion National Park, UT (Honest Hearts map area in NV) – that area of the NV map is just a slight detour from I-15 onto State Roads 17 and 9

- Second Bonus: guess what else I-15 runs past? Big Mountain. Abbreviation: Big Mt. Bastardization: The Big Empty

- The takeaway here is that you literally only have to change which road your party follows four (4) times to get from Dupont Circle’s Metro stop to Las Vegas. I have to imagine that any cross-country caravans might follow old I-15 and old I-70 for this reason

- I mentioned I-90 as leaving Boston and heading due west. Like I-70, I-90 intersects I-15, but much farther north . I’m not recommending that route because it is MUCH easier to go on foot down the East Coast than to go on foot from I-90 in Montana due south all the way through the Rocky Mountains to reach Las Vegas. Nevertheless it is a viable alternate route from the Fallout 4 map to points west, so I’ve included this info

- I headcanon Kellogg got to Boston from NCR territory by following a portion of this route as well

- Here’s the travel itinerary/mileage breakdown:

Provided you are able to vaguely follow these routes, it’s 2,421 miles from the Dupont Circle Metro Station in DC to the Strip in Las Vegas

Traveling at a rate of 2.5 mph on foot for 8hrs./day (with no breaks) the absolute MINIMUM foot distance travel time is 121.05 days

That’s about FOUR MONTHS one-way with no breaks

And that is very optimistic: this route crosses through BOTH the Appalachian AND (more relevantly) the Rocky Mountains. I have driven the Rockies. Those grades are STEEP

There are forest fires and plains fires and tornados and dust devils and, uh, just deserts, as well as heavy snowfall areas, plus rockfall/mudslide/avalanche risk areas, on this route

God help your party if you go past Nevada into FO1 and FO2 territory – then you’re also liable to get tule fog, Santa Ana winds, more forest and brush fires (on a HUGE scale) and earthquakes - I have driven in/through these in the southwest and central Cali and they were not super fun, definitely would not appreciate on foot nope nope nope

Your party will also have to rest/fight/hunt/gather/maintain weapons/heal from injuries in addition to avoiding all the natural disaster risks and weather issues

My estimation? Leave five to six months just for foot travel between DC and NV, and figure that a caravan is only going to do this round trip MAXIMUM once per year

- Also as an FYI in some parts of the US people put “the” in front of interstate names. In others, you will be looked at as An Outsider if you do this. Don’t ask me why. In the words of Drew Carey, “the rules are made up and the points don’t matter.” So - it’s sometimes “the I-15” when you’re talking about the Long 15 and pretty much always “the I-5” when you’re in California but it’s definitely NOT “the I-70” or “the I-695.” There is no logic here welcome to America

- Thank you for coming to my TED talk

EDIT: here’s the link to the first in this series https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/edaworks/686101227706138624?source=share

#fallout #fallout 3 #fallout 4 #fonv #fallout nv #new vegas #worldbuilding #headcanon #roleplay #fanfic #just realized I'm essentially writing AAA triptiks for fallout and that is both super funny and makes me feel super old #wasteland survival guide #travel talks

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broadstbroskis · 3 years

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no better company than you | nathan mackinnon

a/n: alright, i’m rolling in late for @antoineroussel oussel summer exchange (thank you love, for running such a lovely exchange again, it was wonderful and i’m glad i was able to particiapte) and i’m very sorry for the lateness! i had the pleasure of writing for the lovely @ghstandpucks 💜 again, i am SO sorry about the wait but i hope you enjoy this!

word count: 3.2k

-----

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I’m late!” You slide into the booth and throw your bag down next to you, hoping to god you don’t look as frazzled as you feel; this restaurant is far too nice.

Nate just smiles at your words, too familiar with your family by now to know that you’re always running 5-10 minutes behind. He’s ordered a bottle of wine- a nice rosé, fitting for the beautiful end of summer day- and had already started pouring a matching glass for you the second you started sitting down. “How’d the interview go?”

You bite your lip. “Eh.”

“I’m sure it went better than you think.” Nate says encouragingly. “You’re too hard on yourself. All three of you are.”

And well, that’s not a lie. Your siblings were just as critical of themselves as you were. Sid was famously known for it and Taylor, your twin, was as bad as you. But…

“Listen to you!” You laugh at him. Nate’s just as bad as the three of you. A mini-Sid in many ways, to many people in your hometown.

But that was in Canada. This was Denver. And here, Nate was cool. Laid-back. Lowkey. Everything a professional athlete should be. Nobody knew about what a dork he really was, except his teammates.

And now, maybe you too, if all went well with this job interview.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nate says, looking at his menu to feign ignorance.

You giggle, pulling your own up toward your face. “Sure, buddy.”

It’s not often that you and Nate spend time one on one like this, even if you see him all the time over the summer. He’s usually with your brother when you see him, politely trying to decline your mom’s invites to dinner or already hanging at Sid’s house when you invite yourself over to your brother’s house for pool or lake time. Usually time one on one with Nate like this is brief, usually like in passing while he’s waiting for Sid in the kitchen while you’re eating.

It’s nice. Nate’s funnier than people give him credit for and it’s easy to relax into dinner and conversation, to forget about the anxiety from your interview as you chat about what’s new for both of you and gossip about people you both know.

By the time he drops you off at your hotel, it’s late and you’re too tired (and maybe just on the right side of tipsy) to even worry about the interview. You just barely change into pajamas, run through your nightly routine, and climb into bed, before shutting the lights off. It feels like you’re asleep before your head even hits the pillow.

In the morning, you’re awoken by the sound of your phone ringing, and it takes a second for you to place the sound, but when you do you pounce on it, recognizing the local area code immediately. “Good morning.” You say, trying your hardest not to sound like you woke up literally thirty seconds ago.

It’s human resources, from the job you interviewed for yesterday.

You got it.

-----

“Ew, no!” Your dad holds his hands up innocently, when you rush over to stop him from unpacking a box. “Why would you put that there?”

“Hey, sweetie, maybe it’s time for a break.” Your mom says gently, exchanging a look with your dad, who nods his agreement enthusiastically.

Which is fair. You’d just about almost taken his fingers off just because you didn’t like where he was unpacking colanders.

“Dinner!’” Your dad latches onto immediately. “Nate offered to take us all out tonight, I’ll let him know we’re ready.”

“Ready?” You frown, looking down at your workout shorts and baggy t-shirt.

“We’ll be ready in an hour.” He amends, already texting Nate.

Nate knocks on the door to the new condo you’re renting an hour and fifteen minutes later, sheepishly grinning when your dad tells him that you and your mom still need a few minutes. “Thought I had my timing perfect.”

Your dad snorts. “Oh buddy. Keep dreaming.”

He’s not too off on his timing, but unfortunately for Nate, you don’t have too much else going for you in your condo yet. Your dad had gotten your TV all set up, but in addition to the TV and living room furniture, you haven’t gotten much else, and that includes food and beverages. So the two of them sit in mostly silence while they wait another few minutes for you and your mom to finish getting ready.

“I told you that you should have just met us there.” You tell Nate, as he trips on a box on his way out the door.

“Oh, so this wasn’t deliberate sabotage?” He deadpans.

“You caught me. Just trying to keep you around the city full time until I have time to make better friends.”

Nate laughs, as the two of you follow your parents out the door. “Be nicer to me or I won’t introduce you to my friends.”

“Who said I want to be friends with your friends?”

“Children.” Your mom turns to look back at you and Nate smiles at her innocently, but it’s been a while since that’s fooled her. “Do we need to stay home?”

It serves to get the two of you moving, even as you laugh at her joke. Nate drives you to another one of his favorite restaurants, and dinner flies by, with Nate insisting on picking up the tab, even when your dad tries to fight him on it.

It’s started to cool down a little by the time you’re walking back toward the car, Nate and your dad still fake-fighting about paying for dinner, and you find yourself not realizing you’re smiling at the two of them as you walk behind them until your mom bumps your shoulder. “A few hours off for dinner with some good company was just what you needed.” She says.

And even though the smile on her face seems too knowing, you’re too tired to ask about it right now, so you just nod in agreement. “Yeah, this was nice.” You smile back at her.

-----

Mel Landeskog pokes her head around the corner and you wave at her, trying to catch her attention. “Jesus Christ.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t think he was serious.”

“I mean.” You bite your lip. “I did have to work today.”

“I would have picked you up!” She shakes her head, muttering under her breath, and you know Nate’s going to get an earful from her later. “But no, no. That dumbass just let you come all the way over here by yourself. Sends me a text to come meet you by the door. All casual.”

“I mean.” You send her a look. “Did you expect anything different from Nate?”

It’s the way she looks at you and sets her face that almost has you nervous for Nate. You’ve known Mel for a long time now, but really, you don’t know her from more than just years of NHL events. “I do now.” She says.

You hope Nate knew what he was getting himself into sending Mel a text to come find you earlier.

Once she leads you up into the box with some of the wives and kids, she’s back to smiling and laughing, making introductions all around. The mood all around is light and easy, everyone excited for the home opener of the season, and happy to be back with everyone again.

It’s fun to be back in this atmosphere. Hockey’s been a part of your life for so long and there’s truly nothing like the energy of the first game of the season. You feed off the energy, catching up with some familiar faces and chatting with all the other girls, probably too excited when they invite you to a girl’s night later in the week, but it feels good to have plans that don’t involve trying to invite yourself to Nate’s when you’re bored.

“Hey, good job tonight.” You nudge him afterwards, catching up with him in the family room.

He laughs, pulling you in for a hug. “A little different than what you were used to?”

“It lived up to the hype, I guess.”

“I’ll turn you from a Pens fan.” Nate promises.

It’s your turn to laugh. “Feel Sid’s wrath.”

“What’s he going to do? Check me into the boards? Bring it.”

Nate’s been hanging out with your brother and your family for years now, so he should really know better by now. “Okay, buddy.” You pat his shoulder patronizingly. “Sure.”

“I could take him.” Nate insists.

“Throw hands. Next game. I dare you.”

He side-eyes you, because you both know that’s not going to happen and it’s only a minute before you’re both laughing.

“I better see you on Friday!” Ashley Kadri shouts out to you as she’s walking past with Naz and Naylah, interrupting your laughter. “No excuses!”

“I’ll be there!” You call back. “Promise!”

When you look back, Nate’s pouting-exaggerated, albeit, but pouting. “Are you ditching me this Friday?”

“Yup. Found better company.”

“How dare you?” He cries. “There is no better company.”

“Well.” You shrug. “I’ll know for sure after happy hour on Friday.”

“Find your own ride home.” Nate says and then he starts speed walking away from you at an absurd speed.

“Nate!” You protest, jogging to catch up and he finally slows down enough for you to catch up when you round the corner, bumping your shoulder right back when you purposely bump into him in retaliation.

-----

No one lets loose like a group of moms when they’ve got a night without their kids.

Someone has mentioned this to you before, at a bachelorette party or a wedding or something, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen it really in action before until this happy hour.

“If the waitress comes back, order me another drink!” Kerry calls, before running off to the bathroom.

The waitress nods at her, before addressing the rest of you. “Another round?”

“Oh, please!” Mel nods quickly and repeatedly.

“Can we get a few more orders of mozzarella sticks too, please?” You look down at the empty plates in front of you. “And maybe some nachos too?”

“Yes!” Jackie lights up across from you. “Great call!”

It pretty much only goes downhill from there and by the end of the night, both Mel and Ashley are crying for reasons no one is sure of entirely and you’re pretty grateful to see Nate among the group of husbands and boyfriends to come to pick up all their girlfriends.

So grateful you scream his name the second you see him. “Nate!”

He winces, trying to pull his ear away from you, but he’s laughing. “Guess you had a good time, huh?”

“Uh huh!” You nod enthusiastically, not realizing how loud you are until he winces again.

Nate laughs. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.”

You gasp loudly. “I can’t leave my new friends!”

“Your new friends are all leaving you!”

You frown, but look around and realize he’s right. Naz has already sneakily pulled Ashley out of the bar and Gabe and Erik were collecting Mel and Jackie’s things. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Nate parrots. “Come on, get your stuff, crazy girl.”

“Hey!” You protest, grabbing your purse. “I am the least crazy person in my family.”

“I hate to break it to you.” Nate says, as he guides you into standing. “But that’s not saying much.”

He’s right, but you bump him with your shoulder anyway as you walk past. That’s about sibling honor and shit.

Nate parked too far away and by the time you reach his car, you’re leaning on him, the adrenaline from hanging out with friends wearing off quickly. Nate’s nice about it, guiding you to his car and then helping you into his front seat before heading around to the driver’s side.

“You guys had a fun time then?” Nate says, once he’s started driving and you’re half asleep leaning against the window. “Looks like it at least.”

“Yeah.” You nod sleepily. “But you were right.”

He chuckles. “About what?”

“There’s no better company than you.”

-----

Nate becomes pretty clingy after that night, texting and facetiming whenever he’s out of town, and stopping by pretty much anytime he’s got a free minute. It quickly becomes something you look forward to, missing his visits when he’s out of town and looking forward to his calls, smiling when his texts come in and breaking up your work day. And it isn’t long before you realize that you’re being just the same. Sending him messages before and after games. Inviting yourself over for dinner and making Nate cheat on his diet.

In a blessed move from the NHL scheduling department, Sid and the rest of the Pens are scheduled to arrive in town on a Friday morning and aren’t leaving until the end of the weekend.

They have a practice scheduled for early afternoon, which is perfect for you to wrap up your work day before heading over to watch the end.

Geno lights up when he sees you watching from the glass, the first person to acknowledge you, and skating over in the middle of the drill, leaving behind two shocked linemates. “Mini!” He shouts cheerfully, even as you roll your eyes at your least favorite nickname. All because you happen to be the shortest of your siblings. “Great to see you.”

“You too, Geno.” You smile warmly at him, a little annoyed that you can’t get a giant bear hug from your favorite pseudo-older brother right away. “But I don’t think a few other people feel the same right now.” You jerk your chin back over his shoulder.

He turns his head quickly but then looks back. “Psh. They’ll get over it.”

You bust out laughing, which is right about when your brother comes over, and in classic Sid fashion, is all about hockey. “Stop being a distraction.”

“I was minding my own business until Geno came over here!” You protest, even as Geno starts laughing and Sid eyes you skeptically.

“Why don’t I believe that one?” Sid says dryly and sure, maybe you were making faces at some of the guys you knew well as they were passing you, but you weren’t actively being a distraction.

“That’s your prerogative.” You tell Sid, who shakes his head and pulls Geno back for the remainder of practice.

Practice doesn’t last for too much longer and you spend a few minutes chatting with the coaching staff while you wait for Sid to change. But he and Geno finally come out of the locker room and you stop mid-sentence to throw yourself at your brother.

Sid’s laughing and so are you, but both of you start laughing even harder when Geno pulls you both into his arms. “Two of my favorite people!”

“Taylor’s going to be so offended.” Kris grins, watching the three of you amused.

“Taylor?” You grin back at him, going for a hug once Geno releases you. “How about his wife and kid?”

“Those are my other favorite people.” Geno reasons.

“Now I’m offended.” Kappy deadpans.

“You’re not even close.” Geno grins, roughing his hair.

Kappy tries to get him right back, but Geno just swats his hand away and then Sid’s shaking his head, like this is just the same shit, different day. “Look what you did.”

You grin, leaning against him. “Not sorry. I’ve missed this entertainment.”

Sid shakes his head. “Then you can round them up for dinner.”

You do. Easily.

Nate had suggested one of the team’s favorite restaurants and you’re happy to see that he’d accepted your invitation to join everyone, even if he rolls in a little late. You’re deep into Kris’ camera roll, looking at pictures of his kids and catching up on stories that you haven’t heard about them recently, so you don’t even notice he’s arrived and said hello already until he blows on the back of your neck.

You jump. “What the hell?”

Nate’s grinning. “Hey.”

You shake your head at him and bump your shoulders against him. “Hey.” You mimic and then turn right back to Kris.

But your shoulder stays leaning on Nate, and it remains there comfortably all night.

-----

Sid’s a little cranky when you first meet him for breakfast the morning after the game and you’re sure it has everything to do with the last minute turnover that cost them the game (and bragging rights over Nate this summer, which is really what he’s probably cranky about).

He gets over it pretty quickly though, and soon the two of you are laughing and talking, catching up about your family and your lives.

“-and I even love my office, the vibes are just great!”

Sid shakes his head. “Vibes.”

You grin. You know he hates that word. “Good vibes.” You confirm.

“So you’re liking Denver?”

“Love it.” You confirm, smiling.

“Meeting good people?”

You eye him skeptically. “Yes dad. I already said my coworkers are great and I’ve been hanging out with Nate and his friends a lot too. It’s good”

“Geno thinks there’s something going on between you and Nate.” Sid says casually.

The jump of your heart is far from casual. “Oh yeah?”

Sid eyes you but his response to that is surprising. “You know if there was something going on between you and Nate that would be okay?” He pauses, watching you again, but your face is completely neutral, purposely not moving. “Right?”

“You know if there was something going on between me and Nate that your opinion wouldn’t matter at all, right?”

He grins, laughing as he nods, but after he takes a bite of pancakes he says, “To you, yeah. To him, it does.”

“Why?” You blurt out, giving yourself away before you can stop yourself.

But Sid doesn’t say anything to that. He grins again and then changes the subject entirely.

-----

You only make it about a day before you’re knocking on Nate’s door, pretty forcefully.

“What’s up?” He swings the door open, with a frown. “You okay?”

“Does what my brother thinks really matter to you that much?” You blurt out. It’s been bothering you ever since Sid mentioned it at breakfast. That you lasted this long was probably a miracle.

Nate blushes and your jaw drops. “It-”

“Oh my god.” You grin delightedly. “Come on, really?”

“That’s not-” He blows out a frustrated sigh. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

You nod, but you’re pretty sure he’s not going to get far into what he’s going to say.

He sighs again. “It’s not about, like, his approval, or shit. It’s just- he’s important to you. So obviously he’s important to me-”

You kiss him.

“You know that you don’t even have to worry about that, right?” At some point, you’d slid one hand to his hip and the other arm around his neck, and the hand there plays with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’ll argue about that with you later.” Nate says impatiently and so you’re laughing when he kisses you again.

#nathan mackinnon fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey fanfic #hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #my hockey fics

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ghstandpucks · 4 years

Text

Nothin’ Like You ~ Cale Makar

In honor of reaching over 200 followers, here is a song fic based on Dan and Shay’s Nothin’ Like You. I have a few requests in my inbox that I will be working on. If you have any, feel free to send them in using this prompt! Thank you for 200!!!

Master List

I remember when I first met you Sipping coffee in a corner booth You were twirling your hair And I just had to stare For a minute or two

Cale was with Tyson and J.T. after practice one Wednesday afternoon. The three of them decided to stop and get some coffee as it was a cold winter day outside. They were waiting in line talking about something E.J. had said earlier that day when Cale’s eyes landed on you in the back corner by a window. You had a cup of coffee and were staring at your laptop, completely oblivious to the world around you. He couldn’t help but stare as you wound and un-wound a strand of hair around your finger, every so often stopping to type something. Tyson kept talking as J.T. realized their defenseman was completely distracted by something. Following his line of sight, he chuckled. “See something you like? Or someone?” he chirped his teammate. Cale started to turn red as he looked away from you.

“I thought maybe I knew her,” he muttered. Tyson had stopped his monologue and was paying attention also now. He looked over as you had your head buried in a book, slowly typing something out.

“How did she carry all those books?” he asked with a slight laugh. Cale had noticed the numerous books you had scattered around the table. Didn’t people just do their research online now? “You like studious girls Makar?” Tyson elbowed him.

I was laughing at your stack of books Then you shot me that smile Hey beautiful girl, in your own little world Let me in it

“Man shut up,” Cale said turning on his friend. Unknowingly to them though, you had actually heard all the commotion. It was why you enjoyed doing your research in coffee shops; the garbled noises made it easier for you to concentrate. This doesn’t mean that you had heard what they said exactly, but who could really miss three hockey players walking into a small coffee shop in the middle of the week.

You looked up right as Cale was glancing back over at you. As you locked eyes, you sent him a shy smile and looked back down, trying to focus on your work again. Of course you knew who they were, all of Denver practically did. You were just an overstressed grad student with too many deadlines coming up though; he was probably just looking around the place.

The three of them ordered their coffees, and Cale noticed that you had looked sadly at your cup after taking a sip. He walked up to the counter and got the attention of the barista. “What did that girl in the corner order?” he asked, and was told it was a caramel latte. “I’ll take one of those too,” Cale said, paying for a second coffee. J.T. gave Tyson a look before he could say anything as they watched Cale walk over to you with two coffee cups.

You got all of my attention And you ain't even trying Yeah, you're my kind of different And I never seen nothin'

Nothin' like you

“Um hi. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought you could use this,” Cale said, announcing his presence at your table. You looked up, slightly startled as you had been engrossed in a thought you had while typing out your research. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled nervously.

“No, you’re fine! Sorry, I had a train of thought going,” you sputtered out just as nervous as him. “Thank you, that’s very kind. What do I owe you?” you asked, instinctively reaching for your wallet. Cale shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said, trying to think of what the guys on the team might say in this situation. “Your number maybe?” he made a face like he couldn’t believe he just said that, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Um, sure, yeah,” you squeaked out, writing your number on a piece of notebook paper and ripping it out to give to him. “I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself.

“Cale,” he said, taking the paper from you. He was about to ask what you were doing when Tyson called out to him.

“Makar, are you coming?” Cale turned toward his friends who had big, goofy grins on their faces watching the interaction. You blushed slightly at the thought of others watching you.

“I’m sorry. I’ll text you,” he stuttered out, putting your number into his pocket. You smiled softly at him and nodded.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you said and he smiled at you.

“My pleasure.”

Shades on spinning in a summer rain Dancing when there ain’t no music Just the right kind of crazy, baby

Cale had texted you like he said he would that same evening. You honestly weren’t expecting it, but felt completely giddy when you saw the unknown number and read his message. He explained that he would be gone on a road trip with the Avs for the next week, but would like to take you to dinner when he got back. You accepted and plans were made; the two of you talking regularly throughout the week getting to know each other better.

The Avs returned home on Thursday, and a few hours later Cale was at your apartment knocking on your door. He had brought you flowers and you couldn’t help but smile at the kind gesture. The two of you made your way to dinner, talking the whole time. He had just finished telling you a funny story from the trip, beaming at the giggle he had enticed from you when your food arrived. As you looked down at your plate, you started moving your head and shoulders in an excited fashion. “Are you dancing?” Cale questioned you with a chuckle. You stopped immediately.

“Oh my gosh, sorry. I tend to have a happy dance with food. It’s a weird family thing. I don’t even realize I do it until it’s pointed out to me,” you rambled on, face turning red. Cale shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry. I though it was cute,” he said in a low tone. You smiled and giggled nervously; Cale deciding then and there that he wanted to continue seeing that smile for as long as you would let him.

Something about you Rocking that rock 'n roll t-shirt Whole party dressed up But you just doin’ your thing Ain't nobody ever seen nothin' like you

You were working on your research the following Friday night, having the game on in the background. Cale had taken you out to dinner once more since your first date, and the two of you had been nonstop texting. The Avs had won, Cale scoring that night. After the game you were about to text him a ‘congratulations’ when your phone started to ring, the caller ID showing it was him. “Congratulations!” you said as you answered and heard him chuckle on the other end of the line.

“Thanks Y/N. Hey, what are you doing tonight?” he asked, and you heard a few wolf whistles behind him with muttered ‘shut ups’ coming from the defenseman.

“I’ve just been working on my research since I got out of class earlier. Why?” you asked, trying not to laugh.

“Come out with us. We’re all going out to celebrate,” he said in a more hushed tone, and you could imagine him trying to avoid the whole locker room from hearing.

“Cale, I would love to but I’m not dressed to go out,” you said.

“Who cares. Please? I would like you to come,” he pleaded with you ever so slightly. You looked down at your outfit, deciding it wouldn’t take much to put on some jeans quickly. Your Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt didn’t look terrible at least.

“Text me the address,” you said into the phone, and you could hear the excitement in Cale’s voice as he said he would.

When you're wearing them worn out jeans Purple untied shoestrings You're a light in the dark And you're stealing my heart like a gypsy

Showing up to the bar, you became a little self-conscious. Maybe you should have changed? The second Cale spotted you though, he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the room. The front of your band tee was tucked into your ripped black jeans, your white converse showing years of wear as they were no longer exactly white and the shoelaces were frayed at the ends. Cale knew you were probably stressed with your research, and yet you still had the softest smile and a sparkle in your eyes when you found him in the crowd. “You made it,” he whispered into your hair as he hugged you close. He felt you giggle into his chest.

“Couldn’t let you down,” you answered simply. Cale smiled at you and took your hand, leading you over to a table where some of the team was sitting.

“Coffee shop girl!” A slightly tipsy Tyson shouted.

“Oh my God,” Cale muttered as you giggled. You were introduced to everyone as you took a seat between Cale and someone he called Gravy.

“So what is your research on?” Gabriel Landeskog asked when you said you were a grad student at the University of Denver.

“The archaeology of Zoroastrianism,” you said, and caught many blank stares.

“Zoro what?” Andre asked.

“It’s an ancient Persian religion. Today’s modern practices of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism all have common ties to it,” you briefly explained.

“Wait, that was the religion Freddie Mercury practiced,” Sam Girard commented, looking interested. You nodded.

“That’s how most people have heard of it now,” you responded.

“What is your research trying to say about it?” he asked.

“So I’m basically writing a big literature review to make sure it is preserved in the archaeological record. It was the first dualistic religion in a time where civilizations had their pantheons to believe in. It spread with the Persian conquest, but no one they conquered was ever forced to convert to it. Now it’s a rare religion to come across, and their numbers keep getting smaller. With it being one of the oldest organized religions, it needs to be preserved and the traditions documented before we lose it all through modernization attempts.” To you, your explanation was simple and one that you had said many times whenever asked what you were studying. It seemed you had impressed the table though, and you slightly blushed as a few questions started flying your way. You didn’t notice Cale softly smiling at you while you talked about a topic that you loved so much; he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. His teammates noticed though, and boy were they going to give it to him at practice.

I love the way that you kiss me In front of everybody So baby come and kiss me They ain't ever seen nothin'

Nothin' like you

The following day at practice, the guys were giving Cale crap for how head over heels he seemed for you. The fact he hadn’t kissed you yet was another source of ridicule. Everyone who had met you ended up adoring you within the time span that you spent with them at the bar; and they could easily see that their defenseman was taken by you as his cheeks would turn red at the mention of your name. They were all happy for him, but that didn’t mean the chirping would stop.

They had another home game to play the following day, and Gabe convinced Cale to invite you and have you sit with Mel and Linnea. Later that day Cale went to your apartment and handed you his jersey, asking you to be there for the game. You couldn’t say no to him, not that you wanted to anyways. That Sunday you put on the jersey and headed to the stadium. Meeting Mel at the front, you quickly got along and enjoyed the game. The Avs came out victorious again, and you followed the captain’s wife to the locker rooms. You stepped aside as Gabe made his way over to his wife, feeling a little out of place. Luckily for you, Cale wasn’t far behind.

He didn’t know if it was from the guys comments or seeing you in his jersey, but one second he was smiling widely at you, then the next his lips were on yours and his hands on your waist. Without a second thought, you kissed him back, your hands holding his face to yours. You were both grinning ear to ear as you separated, chirps flying all around but all in good nature. Giggling, you hid your face in Cale’s chest as his face turned bright red.

Shades on spinning in a summer rain Dancing when there ain’t no music Just the right kind of crazy, baby Something about you Rocking that rock 'n roll t-shirt Whole party dressed up But you just doing your thing Ain't nobody ever seen nothin' like you, yeah

A year had passed and you were at the end of your grad program. You were set to present your research at the graduate fair, having been selected to present your research on behalf of your department. The Avs were scheduled to be flying back home that day, but Cale wasn’t sure if he would be there in time to see you present. You told him that it was fine, that you understood; and you really did. He was hell bent on making it though. You weren’t that surprised when you saw Cale sneaking into the back of the auditorium. What did surprise you was that half the team had followed him in. Having become good friends with them, they wanted to be there to support you too. As your name was announced, you swear you had the loudest applause.

You calmly presented your research, smiling at Cale when you finished and a few questions were thrown your way. Having worked so hard, the questions were simple to answer. Finding Cale afterward, he took your poster from you and the two of you made your way to his apartment so he could unpack from the trip. Changing into some leggings and one of his shirts, you showed him the bound copy of your 105 page thesis. He was so proud of you and couldn’t help but share the cover on his Insta story. The two of you cuddle and slept better that night then you had in a while. For him it was being back home with you, and you finally had the stress of your research gone since the first time you met him.

Nothin' like you Shades on spinning in a summer rain Dancing in the rain no music Nothin' like you Rocking that rock 'n roll t-shirt Whole party dressed up But you just doing your thing Ain't nobody ever seen nothin' like you, yeah

Once you graduated, Cale asked you to move in with him. You had secured a job at a museum as a curator in their Antient History section. Setting up an exhibit all morning, you met up with Cale at the same coffee shop you had met at two years prior later that day. “Sorry I’m late” you muttered to Cale as you found him. He smiled and gave you a quick kiss.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I already put your order in,” he said as you sat across from him, taking a sip of the coffee he got you.

“You know me so well,” you hummed with a giggle, the caramel latte tasting sweet. Cale grinned at you.

“Technically, your coffee order was the first thing I learned about you, so I better get that right,” he chuckled. “That and you seemed like a huge nerd.” You faked offense, but laughed anyway.

“It was all those books that got you. I knew my tactic of sitting in a coffee shop would work for me one day,” you winked at him.

“It did. I’d never seen nothing like you,” he grinned, reaching into his pocket to take out a small velvet jewelry box.

Never seen, never seen nothin' like you Ain't never seen anything like you Mmm Never seen nothin' like you

Tagging: @yeahcalesy @avsfans95 @tysojost

#nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #cale makar imagine #cale makar x reader #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine

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nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

dance me to the end of love (iv)

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, alcohol consumption

series masterpost: here

a/n: my apologies for the delay!! life got crazy for a bit but i'm back with my two favourite idiot intellectuals

Magdalene stays busy to keep the loneliness at bay.

All of her friends have left Denver, doing whatever it is that hockey players and their partners do in the off-season. She never expected them to stay to keep her company, and would certainly never ask. Besides, they were all so excited to go home and visit family. How could she disrupt their happiness just so she wouldn’t feel so alone? It isn’t her fault that Ryan, Bette, and company aren’t estranged from their families like she is. At twenty-five she should be a little more self sufficient than what she currently is, but Magdalene is working hard at being kinder to herself.

To combat the pervasive loneliness Magdalene spends a lot of time in the heart of downtown Denver. Under normal circumstances she would hate the crowds, but now they comfort her. The swaths of tourists walking the streets and approaching her to take family photos make her feel like a part of something bigger than the pity she finds herself wallowing in often. Barn Owl Books also becomes a frequent retreat when she has downtime, and the owners enjoy when she brings Caligula around. Other patrons adore the white cat and he loves the attention.

One day as she’s leaving work, once again offering to stay late so June doesn’t have to, Magdalene’s phone rings. She contemplates not picking it up, wanting nothing more than to curl into bed with the novel she picked up at Barn Owl the other day, but she knows it must be important. No one ever calls her around this time unless it’s absolutely necessary. Digging the phone out of her pocket, she sees the number of her building superintendent Paul flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Miss Stevenson?” he asks, voice tinged with the toughness that comes with dealing with upset renters on a regular basis.

Magdalene chuckles at the formality, pointing out he hasn’t called her by her last name since she moved in five years ago. “Yeah Paul, it’s me. What’s up?”

There’s the crackle of static on the phone line as the man clears his throat. “So, uh, some bad news.” Magdalene’s stomach twists into an intricate knot. She knows she paid rent on time and can’t think of another reason he’d call her. “A sprinkler main on the floor above yours burst about an hour ago, and it’s pretty bad. Your place definitely got hit the hardest because it’s directly under where the pipe burst. You’re going to have to move out for at least two months while we gut the place and start from scratch. How quickly can you come and get the things that are salvageable from your apartment?”

“Fuck.” This is the worst news Magdalene has ever received. “I can be there in fifteen minutes,” she panics, “But Paul, you’ve gotta go inside and check on my cat. He’s going to be freaking out.”

Paul agrees to visit Caligula after some prodding, and Magdalene drives much faster than she ever has before through the neighbourhood. It’s far from reckless, but she knows that it isn’t the safest course of action. A police officer stops her about three minutes from her final destination but lets Magdalene go after she explains the situation as calmly as possible.

Other tenants affected by the flood are already moving boxes down the stairs when Magdalene pulls up. Everyone is understandably grief stricken, but she can’t find it in herself to console them like she would under normal circumstances. All Magdalene cares about is making sure Caligula is okay. She sprints up the four flights of stairs and doesn’t even break a sweat, adrenaline flooding her veins. Her apartment door is ajar, most likely from Paul entering a few minutes ago, and she flings it open with more force than probably needed. It swings back violently on its hinges and makes a spectacular crash when it hits the wall.

“Caligula?”

“He’s in the bathroom,” Paul sighs. “I can’t get him out of the tub but he’s still breathing. Is he not scared of water?”

Magdalene lets out a breath of relief she didn’t know she was holding in. She treads deeper into the apartment, casually assessing the damage, before reaching the room in question. There, pressed against the far corner of the tub, is the fluffy white cat that Magdalene’s heart beats for most days. Paul is there too, leaning against the sink and shaking his head.

“Thank you,” Magdalene says sincerely. “I’ve got it from here.”

The superintendent exits the unit with a solemn goodbye and heads to the lobby, no doubt going to direct traffic flow and answer questions. It takes a few minutes but Magdalene coaxes the cat out of the tub and into her arms. She holds him tightly and whispers words of praise, knowing it will help to calm them both down. After an uncounted amount of minutes Magdalene moves them into the bedroom, that looks surprisingly intact upon first glance, and changes out of her work clothes and into something more suitable for rummaging around her destroyed home. Caligula climbs up her body and settles gingerly into the hood on her sweatshirt. She starts in the bedroom, and finds that the only thing that’s actually salvageable is the clothes in her closet. Grabbing the suitcase from the top shelf, Magdalene shoves everything inside of it and wheels it into the living room.

She spends the next few hours going through every room in a meticulous manner, desperate to keep relics from her life in Denver. The water did a number on her space and destroyed almost everything. All the furniture is a write-off, and most of her books and records are ruined. Two things that withstood the damage are faux marble busts of Augustus and Marcus Aurelius, which Magdalene packs into one of the boxes Paul dropped off. Everything else fits in three other boxes and they’re tucked into the trunk of her car before the sun sets. Paul insists that the demolition company will get rid of everything else and ensures her she won’t have to pay rent while the construction is going on. It isn’t much of a consultation, considering that Magdalene has no idea where she’ll be staying, but she thanks him anyways as she makes the final trip to her car with Caligula.

Once inside, Magdalene breaks down. She has no idea what to do – no one is in Denver to help her out and she can’t afford to stay in a hotel for however many months this is going to take to fix. Tyson and Bette will be back in just over a month, but Magdalene doesn’t want to bother them or guilt them into coming back early. She cries in the driver’s seat of her car for a while, Caligula on her lap and doing his best to lick up the tears streaming down her cheeks. Not knowing what else to do, she dials Ryan’s number. Though they haven’t been talking as frequently due to the time difference and Magdalene’s insistence he enjoys his time with family, she knows he’ll pick up and listen intently. He’ll also hopefully talk her down from the imaginary ledge she’s found herself on.

He picks up on the second ring. “How’s my favourite girl?” Ryan asks, and Magdalene can hear the smile in his voice. The combination of his voice and the words spoken has her choking on another sob. “Hey, hey, breathe.” Concern is now the primary emotion expressed through the phone line. “Mags, what’s the matter?”

It takes her a few seconds and multiple pads of Caligula’s paws into her stomach for Magdalene to calm down, but she eventually tells Ryan what happened. He listens just as she thought he would, and keeps her breathing steady with his voice. She cries a bit more before running out of tears, but Ryan keeps her focussed on anything but the shitty circumstance she’s found herself victim to – detailing how he skated with Nate earlier in the day and just how many times his teammate kicked his ass. Hearing the mundane story helps more than Magdalene thought it would, and when Ryan asks her where she’s going to stay she responds with a relatively strong voice.

“I’m just going to sleep in my car.”

“Fuck no you aren’t.” The certainty in which Ryan utters the words takes Magdalene by surprise. For someone so far away, he has a lot of opinions on what she should be doing.

She sighs. “There isn’t another option Ry. I can’t afford a hotel for the months my apartment is going to be out of commission and there’s no point in renting another place.”

“Stay with me.”

A series of flabbergasted noises come out of Magdalene’s dropped jaw, but she can’t form any words. Ryan continues, “Think about Caligula. Being cramped in a car isn’t going to be good for him. Or for you. I have an extra bedroom you can call your own for as long as you need. Please Mags.”

Truthfully, it’s the best she’s going to get. Bette and Tyson offered to house a couple of rookies this season, meaning their spare rooms are filled, and there’s no one else she’s close enough with to think about asking. “I don’t want to intrude,” she sighs, but it isn’t a very convincing deflection.

“I want you there,” Ryan insists, “And little boots too.”

It takes them a while to work out the logistics, but Ryan makes a couple of calls and lets the doorman of his building know Magdalene is moving in. He also books a flight for the next day, and ensures her that he’s more than ready to come back to Colorado. They talk for a few more minutes, and in that time she gets directions to her temporary home. Once Ryan hangs up with well wishes and a see-you-soon, Magdalene looks in her rear-view mirror and sets out for a part of Denver she never thought she’d live in.

☼☼☼☼

When Magdalene calls Bette to fill her in on what’s been going on while on the way to pick Ryan up from the airport, the blonde is taken aback by the surplus of information. “Hold on,” she breathes, “Ryan’s coming back to Denver?”

“What part of ‘I’m on my way to the airport to pick up Ryan’ was confusing?” Magdalene laughs.

Her friend doesn’t find the jest funny. “Fuck off.” The comment only increases Magdalene’s laughter, but Bette forges on with the conversation. “Can you recap the events that led to Ryan leaving home nearly three weeks early?”

Magdalene indulges her friend, explaining for what feels like the hundredth time that her apartment was destroyed in a flood and that Ryan offered her his spare bedroom and that he was coming home so she wouldn’t be alone in the unfamiliar environment. Bette listens in silence, and Magdalene imagines she has a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. She’s made quite a few comments about how friendly the two of them seem, but Magdalene does her best to shrug them off. Ryan can just be her friend, a great one even, without Bette projecting her need to have her best friend to have an identical lifestyle to her. Even if she’s right, and Magdalene does want there to be something more between her and Ryan.

“Hold the phone.” Magdalene hears Tyson shout, no doubt getting closer to his girlfriend so he can join in on the conversation. “Gravy’s letting you stay at his place?”

“Yeah…” she trails off, unsure about what wasn’t clear this time.

Tyson hums as though he’s an old-school anthropologist who just made an astute observation about the group they’re studying. “Interesting.”

“How so?”

“Well for starters, he barely lets us hang out at his place,” Tyson explains. “I think I’ve been there maybe twice. So that’s new. Is Caligula staying with you?”

Magdalene is completely confused. “Why wouldn’t he be? He’s my cat.”

“How does Gravy feel about it?”

“What the fuck are you getting at Tys?” Magdalene asks, but there’s a bite to the question. She’s tired of the impromptu interrogation he’s providing. “Because Ryan was excited to have him around. Last night I sent him a video of little boots prancing around the condo like he owned the place and he thought it was hilarious.”

Bette, who had been silent for several minutes, gasps loudly. Tyson laughs, but Magdalene can tell it’s riddled with disbelief. “Mags,” he says gently, though with more than enough teasing laced in, “Gravy isn’t a big pet guy.”

The comment hits Magdalene like a tonne of bricks. What is she supposed to do with that information? There’s only ten more minutes until she gets to the airport, and she needs time to push Tyson’s comment to the back of her brain and collect herself. Magdalene gives a rushed farewell before hanging up the phone and checking her rearview mirror and blindspots. The radio filters back through the car speakers, but she doesn’t hear it, too caught up in what Ryan allowing Caligula to share his space means. There’s little traffic on the off-ramp and before she knows it Magdalene is pulling into a parking space and killing the engine.

She grabs the messily scribbled welcome home banner from the back seat before locking the doors and heading inside to the arrivals section. The inside of the airport looks similar to the empty parking lot – it’s a Tuesday after all. Only a few others wait with her for the plane, and many chat idly amongst themselves. Magdalene stays off to the side in an attempt to not get sucked into a conversation about the upcoming thunderstorm. Passengers slowly trickle through the open door, and Ryan is easy to spot. He towers above everyone and is carrying a rather large bag of hockey equipment. Magdalene smiles at the sight of him, unable to help herself. It’s been nearly a month and a half since she’s seen him and being apart for that long is something she never wants to do again.

“Hi,” she breathes as he approaches, waving awkwardly while she speaks. It’s as though she hasn’t spent countless hours talking with him about every possible topic her mind could dream up.

Ryan doesn’t feel the tension, or if he does he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he wraps her in a tight hug that lasts a touch longer than one with just a friend should, especially in public. Magdalene tries hard not to melt into his side but it’s nearly impossible – Ryan has a magnetic pull that tugs on her heartstrings and makes her insides feel fuzzy. Others bustling around the terminal start to give them strange looks, and it’s only then that Ryan clears his throat and untangles his arms from Magdalene’s waist.

He smiles down at the strong-willed brunette with kind eyes and shoulders his bag once more. “Let’s go home.”

☼☼☼☼

It takes a few days to settle into a routine, but once they do it’s glorious. Training camp doesn’t start for another three weeks, so Ryan spends his day doing light workouts and chilling with Caligula while Magdalene is at work. Once she gets home they make dinner and watch West Wing reruns on the cable network Ryan didn’t know he was even paying for. Their lives fit together seamlessly and it surprises Magdalene just how much she missed having a roommate – Bette moved out after their sophomore year of college, and it’s been just her and Caligula ever since. Though the personal space is nice, she likes being able to hear Ryan laugh at the meme she just sent or knocking on his door in the middle of night to ask if he wants ice cream.

Magdalene wakes up one Saturday to complete silence. It’s unsettling considering she hasn’t heard that since adopting her pet – Caligula sleeps next to her head and breathes loud enough that she’ll never have to buy a white noise machine. She notices her door is slightly ajar and hears soft noises coming from the living room. Ryan must be taking a day off, Magdalene notes, because he’s typically out of the house by seven and it’s currently five minutes past eight. She rolls out of bed and stumbles into the ensuite, brushing the tangles out of her hair and washing her face.

Not bothering to change out the pyjama pants and hoodie she stole from Ryan, Magdalene pads into the sunlit living room to see her roommate doing yoga. On a tiny mat beside him is Caligula, stretching his limbs like he’s following along with the tutorial. The sight is adorable, and before she can think twice about it Magdalene is snapping a photo of the two of them and posting it to her Instagram story.

“You trying to whip my cat into shape Graves?” Magdalene teases, weaving around them and plopping onto the couch, bringing her knees to her chin and holding in a yawn.

Ryan laughs, loud and care-free, and Magdalene wishes he could record the sound and play it on loop. “He kept trying to sit underneath me and I didn’t want to hurt him. I read somewhere that if you give a cat something similar to what you’re doing they’ll leave you alone. Guess it really works.”

Her heart constricts in the best way possible. Ryan continues to go above and beyond to make her and Caligula welcome and doesn’t seem to mind they’re the ones invading his space and not the other way around. There’s still twenty minutes left on the YouTube video he’s watching, so Magdalene pushes herself off the expensive leather sectional and into the kitchen. The least she could do is make breakfast. Deciding on pancakes, Magdalene gets to work prepping the batter and warming up the frying pan. She hums absentmindedly to the Joni Mitchell song playing on the small radio she placed in the kitchen window. Music always made cooking more enjoyable for her, and Ryan doesn’t seem to mind the device taking up space.

The island is set and the food ready by the time Ryan slides into his seat, small beads of sweat lingering on his forehead from the workout. Magdalene resists the urge to wipe them away and instead busies herself with placing the right amount of berries on his plate.

“Mags,” Ryan calls softly, pulling her out of her mind and back down to Earth. “That’s more than enough. Sit down and eat before it gets cold.”

They eat in silence until Caligula appears, meowing for whatever scraps he can get his hands on. Against Magdalene’s pleas Ryan feeds him a blueberry. The cat sniffs it inquisitively before swallowing it, though it comes up again a few moments later.

“You’re cleaning that one up bud,” she laughs, bending down to make sure Caligula is okay before rinsing her plate in the sink.

“Fuck.”

Ryan does as he’s told and helps Magdalene with the dishes before getting ready to head out for an unofficial team meeting. Camp starts in a few days and Gabe wants to get together and make sure they’re all on the same page before barreling head-first into the season. He promises to pick them up a late lunch of sandwiches from Barn Owl and Magdalene follows him to the door to say goodbye. It feels natural, like they’ve always shared this routine, and she knows that Ryan feels it too because he wraps her in a tight hug before petting Caligula one last time and slipping out the door.

Bette calls soon after he leaves and grills Magdalene on all the details of her new living arrangement. She’s still in Canada, spending a few more days there than Tyson to help his mom and sister finish unpacking their things at the house they recently purchased.

“So, have you kissed him yet?”

The question is asked in such a casual, Bette-like manner that Magdalene barely chokes on her water. “Bee, what the fuck?”

“Oh come off it Mags,” she sighs, “You like him. He likes you. The two of you live together now. It’s only a matter of time before the friendship turns into something more.”

The blonde is right about at least one thing – Magdalene has developed a steady crush on Ryan. She should have known being in such close proximity to him all the time would put her feelings into overdrive. However, she didn’t have another option other than to accept his offer when it was proposed nearly a month ago, so Magdalene is now being forced to deal with the repercussions.

“I have, in fact, not kissed Ryan,” Magdalene huffs. “But I’ve thought about it once or twice.”

A squeal tears from Bette’s throat and she forces her friend to share the details. Magdalene obliges mostly to get her off her back, but it does feel good to talk about it with someone. It’s a very long time since she’s had romantic feelings for anyone, and Magdalene is nearly giddy with excitement over the possibility of new-found love by the time Ryan gets home. She says farewell to Bette and promises to come over as soon as they're both in the same city again.

It’s later than both of them expected, so they decide to forgo lunch and instead cook an early dinner. Ryan wants chicken and Magdalene wants spaghetti, so naturally they compromise on a carbonara without the pork. The radio is cranked to the highest volume as they work, both singing along and in their own little worlds. Magdalene is in charge of cooking the pasta and Ryan sets about making the sauce, and more than once she catches him looking at her while he’s supposed to be stirring the mixture. She can’t be too mad, however, because each time their eyes meet she’s supposed to be doing her job too. Before too much time has passed the meal is ready. It cools on two plates while Caligula is fed and wine is poured – the former done by Magdalene because the cat still isn’t quite comfortable enough with Ryan. Once sitting, they raise their glasses in a silent toast and dig in. The pasta tastes heavenly, and Magdalene makes sure to say so.

“Oh my god this is delicious,” she nearly moans, “You have to make this like every night.”

Ryan laughs and raises his fingers in mock salute. “You got it boss.”

Conversation flows into how they spent their hours apart – Ryan gushing about how good it was to see his teammates again and Magdalene talking about how she caught up with Bette on the phone. She of course left out the part where she confessed feelings for her best friend to her other, more senior best friend. Dinner passes in the blink of an eye and soon the two of them are standing side by side at the sink, elbows knocking occasionally as they do the dishes.

“Want to watch a movie tonight?” Ryan asks nonchalantly. “You said earlier this week you wanted to see Clueless again.”

Magdalene smiles – of course he would remember this offhand comment she made a few days ago about the classic. “That sounds fantastic. Can you finish putting these away? I’m going to pop a couple blankets in the dryer to warm up and see if I can get a nice picture of the sunset for Bette, she mentioned on the phone that she’s missing it.”

“She literally hasn’t changed time zones!”

Laughter tumbles from Magdalene’s lips as she slips out of the kitchen. Two fluffy blankets are pulled from the back of the couch on her way down the hall and tossed into the machine. Grabbing the same sweater of Ryan’s she was wearing earlier in the day from the foot of her bed, Magdalene heads for the balcony door and slips through the glass.

The city is nearly silent. Cars pass under Ryan’s balcony like blips in the night, but they don’t dare touch the peaceful atmosphere radiating from Magdalene. She’s had one of the best nights of her life, just her and Ryan laughing over glasses of wine and the pasta dish they cooked together. It’s all so domestic and charged with stolen glances and soft smiles that Magdalene knows it’s more than two friends living together for a short period of time. There’s been a fundamental shift in their relationship but she doesn’t know how to address it, or if she even wants to despite her looming attraction. Being with Ryan is so easy that she forgets it’s only temporary. Realistically she knows it can’t last forever, but she finds herself hoping each day Paul will call and tell her the rebuild is taking longer than expected.

Ryan calls her inside, informing her the blankets are out of the dryer and the movie she picked out days ago is queued up on the television. Magdalene takes a deep breath and finishes her glass of wine in one gulp. Hopefully he won’t notice when she casually leans in and rests her head on his shoulder halfway through the film.

☼☼☼☼

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