#and what a time to get your first... after three games of being shutout

[frostbeees]

michigan goal gifs (32/?)

[cellythefloshie]

;; Be My Mistake Chapter Nineteen of the Road Wife Series

Table of Contents 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

Summary: After a long fight home, and some car troubles, Pat offers to give you a ride home and you get a lot more than you bargained for.  Kinks & TW: use of emergency contraceptive, rules are being broken / breach in contract, wifie goes against her better judgment yet again Word Count: 3k+

Your phone rested face down on the table, yet you could still see it illuminate as a notification took the main screen. Then came the three droning vibrations that used to send you lurching for the smartphone, desperate to see and keep your next appointment. You couldn’t count how many times this had happened since the plane took off from Detroit almost two hours prior. Someone, or their wives, would request an appointment, then minutes later, another series of notifications would come through: the cancellation of that request. And it wasn’t the wives of the players that had made that decision, as the team was coming so close to being home, but the captain himself. 

It left you uneasy and unmoving in your seat where you sat between Colton and Cirelli. Your head rested on Tony’s shoulder, as it often came on long flights. The scent of him calmed you, as did the touch of Ross’ hand as it stroked your calf. It was just in his reach as you sat curled up in your seat, tried and desperate to sleep, but the vibrations kept you vigilant and tense. And Ross could feel it. You knew he could. As with each vibration, he squeezed your leg and looked down at you with curious eyes that earned nothing more than a tired smile from you. Then, he would reach for your phone, flip it up for you to see the big bold DECLINED notification at the top of your screen before he relaxed back in his seat. 

If the team had been flying anywhere but home, receiving so many notifications, and having them all requested, might have raised questions. It wasn’t often an appointment was declined. Nevermind you not take a single one after a game - even if it had been a shutout loss. But this flight home differed from every other that had come before it. You had a secret to hide, and Stamkos knew it, because it was his secret too.  

There would be no trace of him left behind now. You threw away the lingerie he soiled and the emergency contraceptive you had taken had sent your body into a bloody mess of trying to rid itself of any risk of pregnancy. It was no different than your period really, but the risk was still too great. Especially when the guilt of what happened gnawed away at you, leaving you feeling both sick to your stomach and numb. 

You clung onto Tony tighter, your face buried deep into the crook of his neck in an attempt to bring any semblance of darkness from the glow of the lights overhead. Your eyes squeezed tightly shut, and you shifted your body one way, then the next, even extending your legs over Ross’ lap at one point in an attempt to make yourself comfortable, but it never came. Just as you thought you might get some rest, the voice of the pilot chimed through the plane and it was met with the subtle turbulence that came with landing. The flight had arrived back in Tampa. 

Now, you just needed to get home. 

The players always disembarked from the flight first, and you left with them before the rest of the support staff that sat at the front of the plane. It was one of your many luxuries, one that you were thankful for as you quickly grabbed your bags from the overhead compartment and disembarked the plane between Tony and Ross. Tony cast a glance back over his shoulder as he met the bottom of the stairs and offered you a soft smaller and an even softer good night. Then he walked across the tarmac and disappeared out of sight on the way to his car. 

Ross was behind you, his large hand reaching out to the small of your back as he spoke. “Text me when you’re home safe?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, nodding. 

Then you were void of his touch, and you stood there at the bottom of the stairs until the team was gone and the management and media teams were beginning to depart from the plane. You needed the distance from the players after what you had been through during the road trip. You needed distance from everyone - you couldn’t wait to get home. 

Yet you lingered, and you walked slowly cradling your bags as you made your way to your car that waited for you. It was almost alone in the lot as taillights faded into the darkness. Watching them disappear lifted the heavy feeling from your chest and with it, the facade you had worn since you had left Stamkos’ room. You let your lower lip tremble as you reached for the driver’s side handle and pulled the door open. Tears burned at your eyes as you threw your bag into the passenger seat, and the suffocating feeling of a sob choked at your throat as you sat in the driver’s seat and slammed the door behind you. 

The keys glided into the ignition with ease, but when you turned them over, the engine did not roar to life. You froze, tears now burning their path down your cheeks. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest as you turned the keys again and again, only to get the same result. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” 

You pounded your fists against the steering wheel, the emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface finally beginning to spill. Your throat hurt as a frustrated cry ripped its way up and out your mouth and you beat at your steering wheel until your fists hurt, after that even, and you only stilled when you hear a knock against your window. 

Frozen, petrified that you were not alone in the lot, you looked through your hair that had become a messy curtain in front of your face and found Pat looking back at you. An embarrassed sigh took you, your eyes shutting for a long moment before you could bring yourself to reach out and open the door. 

“Car troubles?” Was all he said to you, and you were thankful for that. 

“Yeah,” you sighed. 

“Want a ride?” Pat offered, and you sat there, your eyes dropping to your hands, as you considered it. 

You shouldn’t accept it. You knew that. So many indiscretions had already been made, you couldn’t afford to make anymore… Especially with Pat. You hadn’t spoken with him since you had caught him with Ella back at Amalie. While he could never have known your car would have failed you, you couldn’t help but feel he saw this opportunity to get you alone. To finally trap you and force you into talking about what happened. That alone should have been enough for you to refuse, but getting a ride home sure beat waiting for a cab.

“Sure, yeah, that’d be great actually,” you sighed, reaching across the car for your bag. 

Hugging it to you, you locked the car door behind you and followed Pat to his car. The lights flashed as he unlocked it with the fob. Your shadow cast long and inhuman across the parking lot. It almost made you shiver, your breath hitching in your throat as you reached for the handle and hopped into the passenger's seat. You were still rattled, and you hoped Pat didn’t notice - and if he did, you hoped he would believe it was because of him and Ella. 

“So,” Pat started, his engine coming to life with a soft purr - oh, the luxury of being able to afford a new luxury vehicle without the haunting worry that would could be fired after one bad decision. Worst-case scenario, he would be traded or bought out, but another team would always welcome him. You weren’t so lucky. “Where we headed?”

Your hand reached out for his GPS. “May I?”

Pat nodded and let you plug your address into the route, and it came to life with its direction in a soft feminine voice. You hoped that it would be enough to fill the silence. That Pat would focus on when to take the next turn, and the one after that, but Pat had always been a talker… 

“It’s good to be home, huh?”

“Yeah,” your word was breathy as you cast a glance over to him as he drove, the angles of his face illuminated by the amber glow of each passing streetlight with the occasional glimmer of red or green when you came to in intersection, “was a long road trip, I’m so tired.”

You hoped that was a big enough hint that you weren’t much into talking. As much as you appreciated the ride, you appreciated the silence more. 

“Yeah, they’ve been working you hard, haven’t they?” Pat asked in a low voice that was stained with jealousy. It left a lump in your throat as your hand reached down to the phone in your pocket. You didn’t need to look at it to know that at least one of the declined requests was from him. 

The car came to a stop at a red light, your head pounding hard in your chest as you looked at Pat. He was looking back at you instead of at the road ahead. Even as the light turned green, the car remained still in the empty street. You smiled as he looked back at you, your head lulling to the side to rest against the headrest. Then you let your eyes shut, silently telling him that this conversation was over. 

The silence was welcomed, as you felt each acceleration stop and turn the car made. It was a gentle rocking, one that was almost enough to rock you to sleep. That was until you felt the hot embrace of Pat’s hand brush over your knee as it came to rest on your left thigh. Your eyes shot open in an instant, your heart jumping into your throat just as fast. 

“Pat, what are you doing?” You asked weakly.

Pat’s hand recoiled. “Sorry, force of habit.”

And it was. When he sat near you on the plane, Pat’s hand often came to rest on your thigh. He would stroke it gently with his thumb, and wasn’t an unwelcome touch - but it was different now that you were in Tampa. Getting a ride home was a big enough risk. You couldn’t have him breaking any of the rules set out in the contract… You had already broken so many. 

Retracting his hand, Pat placed it on the center console waiting so patiently for the invitation to touch you to be offered. But even as you craved the comfort, you refused to let yourself be touched by him so intimately. That gentle stroke that left your heart warm and fuzzy should have been reserved for his wife - and while in your contract in big bold letters, that was your title when you were up in the air and on the road, you weren’t his wife at that moment. You were just a social media team member for the organization who just happened to have her car break down at the most inopportune moment. 

You couldn’t avoid his touch forever, however. As you were getting out of the car, Pat was quick to join you. He beat you to the back seats, pulling out your bag before you could even think of reaching for the handle. 

“You need a hand bringing them up to your place?” He asked slowly, almost expectantly. 

“No, no,” you spoke softly, your head shaking, “I can manage.”

“Then I guess that means this is good night,” Pat sighed, and your heart fell. 

Why did he have to say it like that? Like he had just driven you home from a date… like he wanted a god damn hug. 

A single arm raised up to welcome you into its embrace, and you walked right into it. Not because you felt like you owed him, but because it was the least you could do - and deep down, you knew that a hug would help you feel better. Even if it was just a little. Besides, Pat gave the best hugs. 

Your arms wrapped around him the best they could, your fists coming to grip at the back of his shirt, and you rested your cheek against his chest. You focused on his heartbeat, and how his large hands stroked down the length of his back, but even as it his heart beat rumbled like distant thunder there was no ignoring the soft words on his lips, “You never told anyone about me and Ella.”

“There was nothing for me to tell,” you spoke, your words so close to breaking. 

“You know that’s not true,” Pat sighed. “I wasn’t supposed to be in there. Especially not with her. I could have gotten myself into a lot of trouble. I owe you.”

“No, you don’t,” you spoke pointedly. “You gave me a ride.”

“As if that’s enough,” Pat said, and you could feel his hot breath as he leaned in. It blossomed over the top of your head, and with your cheek, he raised a single hand to crane your neck up to look at him. “Is there nothing else I can do for you?” He punctuated the question with your name, and it sent your heart into a flutter. 

Pat was a rule breaker… and you were, too.

He knew you wouldn’t tell. 

You couldn’t, because if you agreed, it would cost you your job. 

Which was why you couldn’t let yourself cave into the comfort of his touch, to the taste of his lips that taunted you as he leaned in so close to your own. You swore you could taste him as your tongue left your mouth to lick along the swell of your lower lip. You trembled in his hold, both overwhelmed by the stress you had been put through by him, and by Steven, and by the deep need to forget that all. You wanted to feel anything but the anxiety that tingled in the depth of your chest. 

So, against your better judgment, you let your hands stroke over his ribcage and to the chest of his shirt. You gripped it tight in your fists, and you pressed up onto your toes and kissed Pat like it was the last kiss that was ever going to grace your lips. Pat’s beard was rough against your skin as it scratched against it with each desperate kiss. The friction was enough to leave your skin raw, but you didn’t cower from you. You clung to Pat as if he was your gravity as you kissed you there in the middle of the street. It left your mind hazy and your heart racing, and for a moment you forgot you were back in Tampa. But the harsh reality of it all was that you were back home, and it hit you like a bolt of lightning as Pat’s large frame pinned you between himself and the car and he let his hand slip down between your legs to palm at the sensitive space between your legs. 

“Pat, stop,” you protested in a hiss, your head turning to pull yourself from the kiss, “we can’t.”

You didn’t have to ask him more than once before his hands were following away from you. Pat then stepped back, and didn’t let his eyes meet to reach your own. Even after all that happened with Ella, he too knew what you did was wrong, and the guilt that hung over him told you that if you hadn’t stopped him, things would have gotten more out of hand. 

“Night, Pat,” you gasped out. 

Assuring you had a first grasp around the handles of your bag, you moved towards the front door of your apartment building. There you fumbled with your keys, your breathing growing shallow and your movements quick yet clumsy. Too many times, you dropped your keys down to the ground at your feet before you successfully let yourself into the lobby. The weight of the door seemed to fall away as you crossed the threshold with stumbling feet. Your steps stuttered, and you tripped over yourself as you moved for the elevator. It was there the weight of the world consumed you, sending you to your knees as you let out a disappointed sob. 

This wasn’t who you were. You couldn’t feel like more of a stranger in your own body. In the reflection of the distorted stainless steel door, you could see the mascara that ran down your cheeks and the mess that your hair was left in from the uncomfortable flight home, but it wasn’t just in appearance that you didn’t feel like yourself. It was in your heart. The person you were before you signed the contract was gone. You didn’t know when you had lost her along the way, but you knew that version of yourself would have never done the things you had. 

The guilt sat like a pile of bricks against your chest as the elevator doors chimed open at your floor. It took all your strength to crawl out onto the floor, dragging your bags with you before your hand slipped into your pocket for not your work phone, but your personal phone. 

Quick fingers navigated the screen through the blurred vision that was brought on by hot tears that stained your cheeks, a diluted black that destroyed your makeup. You scrolled through your contacts, your fingers pausing and hovering as you reached the letter C. You had a choice to make. 

Cirelli or Colton?

Taking a heavy breath, your thumb fell down onto the phone screen. Instantly it dialed, and when you heard the comforting voice on the other end of the phone, you spoke their name. You almost choked on it as it slid off your tongue, “I-I- something happened-” you interrupted yourself with a sob, a trembling hand raising to rest over your gaping mouth. “I really fucked up.”

TAGLIST: @mp0625​ , @equallyshaw​ , @charles11700​ , @swissboyhisch​ , @wingedwheelprxncess​ , @luvmmarner, @fandomrejects , @misunderstoodwerewolf , @callsign-denmark , @puckmaidens , @xcicix , @starshine-hockey-girl , @cixrosie

[gunnygazette-blog]

WEEK #7 GAME-BY-GAME

WEEK #7 GAME-BY-GAME

This week starts the play-off watch...as the halfway mark is the point that teams can start clinching a dance card to the post season...or realize they can only play spoilers…  This week the North provides most of the premier games...8 of the top 10 games to be exact...

For those that are interested...the FFA challenge is pretty one-sided as the Ol’ FFA is currently...34-6...  This week there are nine more match-ups...  

Game of the Week

  (28) Minners (0-4) @ (40) Iron Chickens (0-4) : 25-3

-  “What?  Have you lost your mind?”...uhmmm...no…  For long time readers this would not be a surprise…  As much fun as watching the top teams go at it...watching two winless teams go at it is just as entertaining… Like the midget wrestling undercard the often comical outcome will make for an entertaining game…  Horrible offensive output (both scoring less than 7pts a game) will face-off...while the Chickens have the worst ranked defense…  Advantage here goes to the Minners because of their top 15 defense…  But expect a low scoring game...lower then what the Algorithm gives...

G#2  (5) Du-vowel Raid (5-0) @ (19) Grizzled-ones (3-2) : 27-26

- Both former FFA foes look destined to make the play-offs…  Their first meeting was a 26-6 Grizzled win...but since than the Raid have taken three straight including two shutouts…with a total of 52pts scored to 12pts…  It seems the first to two scores will be the winner. Expect a physical game from the Bruised bruins...but the Raid will find away to hang in there...and sneak a win out at the end...

G#3:  (8) North Weasels (5-0) @ (11) Chicken-hawks (4-1) : 42-18

- currently holding the #1 & #3 seeds in the north…  The Weasels have not truly been challenged yet as they run out to big leads and force others to play catch-up…  They might be able throw the ball around the yard right now...but bad weather could strike come later in the year… The C-hawks only tripped-up against the current two seed… so they are not slouches...but they will have to step up their play this weekend, protect the ball, and get the ball to bounce their way if they want to pull off the upset...

G#4:  (15) D-League Champs (2-3) @ (13) A-meri-cant’s (3-2) : 22-24

- Last Year’s Champ is having a rough time of it, as all three of their losses came from their new straight from the FFA neighbors…  Last weeks game was a bitch slap by the perennial third place in the ol’ west and exposed their youth and lack of physicality.  This week they get another team from the FFA, but this ones from the weak Coastal and qualified for the play-offs on the final day.  What the Red, White & Loose have in common with last weeks foe is a desire to run the football...just not as physical…  Could this be Last Year’s smoke’s first FFA win?

G#5:  (33) Otha Kitties (1-4) @ (32) Windy wanna-bears (0-4)  : 8-12

-  Not sure this game will happen...but may be the Chicago-ites best chance at a win… With all the Mediocrity on the field the bruins will have the biggest advantage from their defense…  See if they can entertain the home crowd...

G#6:  (10) Du-vowel Kitties (4-1) @ (20) The Newest Comic-als (2-2) : 22-16

-   Boldness only seems to play every-other-saturday…and even with one of the softest schedules they look like they may struggle and fall short of last year’s Bold Team’s record…  If they think they can just flip a switch and make the play-offs...it could happen...but it may be a short visit...  After next week they could go on a four game run… The Kitties have been tough...and were deadlocked near the end of their first week loss...until the roof caved in…  They look set to stay in the top 6-seeds...and if they can protect the ball...may start tearing away the Comics chances at the post season...

G#7:  (29) My lil’ Ponies (2-3) @ (35) F-Criminals (1-4) : 21-28

- The ponies have yet to taste victory on the field...being the recipients of two forfeit wins…  While chain-gang crew have been able to celebrate once…  This game could be summarized as mediocrity on mediocrity….and weakness on weakness…  Da ponies are middle of the pack on offense...while the Jailbirds are the same on Defense… When the roles are reversed...the Parolees have a pretty inept offense and the ponies are pretty dismal on Defense as well…  So expect a pretty equal battle.

G#8:  (14) Hooded Snakes (4-1) @ (21) Bad Weather (3-2) : 29-16

- On paper this looks lika good match-up...both teams with winning records...but there records belies the fact their middle of the pack teams...scaly-ones are the better team...yes…  But they seem to play-down or play-up to whoever they face…  They need to play every team like it’s week #1…  

G#9 (1) Sorry-Ass Champs (5-0) @ (6) Otha Sparties (3-2) : 36-23

- Last year the Sparties didn’t wanna travel to Gorilla Isle in the regular season and than got shellacked 39-0...extending the Glad streak to eight straight over the 300…  With the Sorry-ass champs putting up 214pts to Sparties 65pts during that streak …a win for Sparty would go a long way as they play the Glads twice...and their remaining schedule is pretty soft... The Glads on the other hand will try to keep their undefeated streak up with the hardest southern slate.

G#10 (24) Rubber Snakes (3-2) @ (16) Water-Lizzies (4-1)  13-32

-  Reptile on Reptile…both play-off teams...but the ones’ with legs have bigger teeth on that defense…  

G#11 (22) Tampa spotted Kitties (2-3) @ (9) Cow-Pups (2-2) 0-18

- The Pups have the last seed...the Kitties wanna a seat at the Play-off table being only a half game back …that flip could happen..  But I don’t see it...the pups will tree the kitties using their defense...

G#12  (25) King Kitties (1-3) @ (12) Mee-ah-Mee Raid  (3-2) : 15-34

- The Algorithm is being very kind here… The Kitties will struggle to get A score...let alone two…  The Raid may be sloppy enough to let this happen...but I don’t think the outcome will be in doubt...

G#13:  (36) Reaps (0-5) @ (27) Feather Dusters (2-3) : 6-30

- The Reaps schedule lightens up almost too late…  This is a very winnable game, but the heart may have already left the building to go on a road trip…  

G#14:  (2) Waskily-Weasels (5-0) @ (18) Jesters (2-3) : 36-11

- Da Weasel gang takes anotha trip to the middle of the state...and will face a slightly tougher opponent this time…  But it isn’t one of the teams that are expected to make some noise come play-off time…  The Jester secondary will have a hard time matching-up…  Skunk-bears keep tearing throught their soft schedule...

G#15:  (3) Angry Fairies (4-0) @ (26) Concrete Shoes (3-2)  : 47-0

- Match-up looks better on paper...if there is a letdown it could be a lil’ closer… But the Ugly helmets are more Godfather than soldiers...

G#16:  (37) Striped Kitties (0-5) @ (7) Pee-Rats (4-1) : 0-47

- The worst Bay area team is facing a crew of patch wearers who just had their biggest regular season win...is there a let down?  The striped-ones hope so...as it is there only chance to hang close…  But the Pee-Rats will grind’em out a big win...

G#17:  (30) Otha Bull-pups (1-3) @ (4) A.R.M.Y. (4-1) : 0-65

- Pups are bad...the toy soldiers wanna a “get right” game...shouldn’t be close...

FORFEIT GROUP:

G#18:  (34) Ghosts (0-2) @ (39) N-Criminals (0-5) : 12-18

- Would have been close

G#19  (31) Corpse Munchers (0-5) @ (17) Southern Spotted Kitties (2-3) 6-24

- Vultures were already roadkill

(23) RainCoats (Pegasi) (3-1) @ (NR) Chum Bait (0-0)  No Score

- The Raincoats really need a game after the whoopin’ they got last week...but pretty sure the Chum will not come out to play...

BYE GROUP:

(38) Hybrid Kitties (1-4)

[9w1ft]

I’m sorry if you already talked about this but I feel like whatever you say makes sense so I wanted to ask. Do you think Taylor and Karlie have been dating all this time or was there a breakup somehwere in there? I always thought they might’ve been dating whole time but after the Great War and Labyrinth and Maroon I think they did breakup somehwere in there and then got back together. What is your timeline and did it change from before Midnights came out?

thank you for this ask! first off let me say that this is my belief and ultimately everyone needs to come to their own conclusions.

this album did not change my impression of the length of their relationship. in particular the “2190 days of our love blackout” line in glitch blew my mind. like if we are playing Guess Who? that’s what you’d call a… almost a shutout question!

concerning the three examples you give, the great war suggests she “almost lost” her lover, and to this i would assume so! it was a pretty damn stressful time!! maroon doesn’t completely read kaylor to me at this point in time (my personal opinion) and my take on labyrinth is uhhh much different ☺️

there’s also the small but not insignificant fandom dynamic consideration that every annual campaign to say they’ve broken up in a new way has never ever felt genuine.

i’m going to stray from your question a little bit but i will add to this all by saying,

i absolutely understand how ridiculously high the bar is being set. from the outside looking in, it just reads as impossible on so many levels and i fully respect that. there are things we may never know completely and so much of it is rife with sensitive topics and i really feel the way we discuss things has had to evolve.

and over the last two years in particular, i’ve had to get comfortable with the idea of just enjoying the way i see things with the few that believe the same i do. and it’s actually been great. of course, i always love when earnest new people jump in of their own volition and it’s the best thing ever to share these fun time with all of you. and i also i had this realization of like.. why would i want to work hard to gain and maintain the company of people that act unpleasantly? why not be the one to define your rules for engagement! and that changed the game for me! i’ve just reached a sort of nirvana about it. if that makes sense.

[brockadoodles]

sydämellinen (warm) - m. rantanen

AN: SURPRISE BITCHES HERE’S A CHRISTMAS FIC. I wrote this little thing specifically for @hockeyboysiguess​​. So Merry Christmas in November, my dear. I hope you love it. It might be some of the softest content I’ve ever written, for a boy I don’t even go here for. So let me know what you think. 

*Also if any of the Finnish is wrong, I apologize, I don’t speak Finnish rip. 

Word Count: 2362

Warnings: None

Christmas traditions were something that you never quite understood until you weren’t at home anymore to have them. Growing up, you had never considered the things that your family did around the holidays as monumental or special traditions, oftentimes you felt boring and inadequate when asked about them. Your mom, your dad, and you, that was all you had, and the holidays seamlessly came and went each year. Sure, a tree would get decorated, there would be some sort of family dinner, but nothing felt magical or special like the holidays were always made out to be. Everything in your world felt stagnant until you met him. 

Mikko Rantanen adored everything about the holidays, it was part of growing up for him. Christmas in Finland was no debatably the largest celebration in the country all year, every year. He found extravagant light displays enticing, and the warm smell of Christmas ham comforting. To him, there was nothing more memorable than his childhood memories of Christmas with his family, the traditions held strong each year, traditions that he packed up and took with him when he moved away for his career. His Christmases changed from large family gatherings to small close-knit nights with the few teammates and friends who also didn’t go back home for the holidays, attempting at recreating that fleeting feeling of home that he desperately missed. A feeling that he hadn’t felt since he was young until he met you. 

Mikko knew you never cared for the holidays, he realized this on your first date, a cold, snowy evening in November. He watched as you sat there in the soft candlelight, face twisting slightly at the mention of what both of you were doing for Christmas that year. When Mikko lit up at the mention of the holidays and started telling you about his traditions from home, you tried to hide your distaste. You tried to hide the sinking feeling in your stomach, the one that was pulling you down into a self-deprecating mess sitting at a far too nice restaurant with a far too expensive-looking meal in front of you, waiting for this person as wonderful as Mikko to realize that you weren’t worth sharing his traditions with. Mikko noticed though because Mikko noticed everything about you, even the things you hopelessly tried to protect him from. He noticed it all because that’s what happens when you love someone as much as Mikko fell in love with you. 

The first Christmas, you had a reasonable excuse for not seeing him. Your parents had insisted on a Christmas spent in Aspen, a three and a half-hour drive from Denver that acted as your barrier from Mikko and his Christmas traditions, something that was overwhelming so early on in your relationship. You simply packed up a bag, driving your old car through the mountains, and spent Christmas sitting in front of a fire in a far too expensive resort town, no Christmas tree in sight and nothing but an unread text from your boyfriend to keep you company. 

The second Christmas together, his schedule is what kept you apart, with the Avalanche getting the unlucky Christmas Eve game out in New York. A schedule that would have him sitting wide awake on a redeye flight after a 6-0 shutout loss back to his condo alone in Denver with a heavy and longing heart, knowing that he needed to give you space during Christmas but also desperately wanting to share his favorite holiday with his favorite person. Instead, he spent the holiday alone on his couch, his texts to you left on read and a cold cup of miso soup on his coffee table as he wished for the day to pass. 

By your third Christmas with Mikko, you knew it was time to actually spend the holiday together, to swallow your feelings and make an effort to learn the traditions of the man you had come to love over the last two years. A diamond ring sat nestled on your left hand, unfinished wedding plans for the following Summer in Finland, and a hole between you when it came to the holidays that you were finally ready to fill. 

“Mikko?” You murmured into his shoulder, your lips pressing soft and slow kisses down his skin, your legs tangled with his own, a warmth nestled between you that made your stomach fill with butterflies, even after all this time together. 

“Mhm, kultaseni?” The Finnish pet name running from his lips effortlessly, a term of endearment that made you blush every time. You kissed his shoulder once more, letting your fingers dance along the bare skin of his arm as you breathed a sigh that you didn’t know you were holding. 

“Will you share your Christmas traditions with me?” 

Mikko had to take a moment to make sure he heard you correctly, to make sure that the mechanisms of his brain that were translating English into Finnish as you spoke were working as they should. When he looked down at you, he saw something in your eyes that he didn’t recognize in all the years that you had been together. He saw, for the first time, a fleck of excitement about the holidays, and he wasn’t going to be the one passing that up for anything. 

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair, pressing a soft trail of kisses down your temple and lingering there for a moment, before he slowly adjusted his arm, rolling his body to hover over yours as he properly kissed you for the millionth time, but the first of that morning. The two of you stayed like that for a while, comfort nestling into your heart with each kiss that he gave, and each touch you felt. You were hopelessly, and entirely in love with Mikko Rantanen, and for the first time in your life, the idea of a Christmas tradition didn’t seem so bad. 

Mikko knew he had to start slow with the traditions, he didn’t want to give you too much and have you pull yourself back from the idea. He wanted this to be a good experience for you, and if it took giving you one minuscule detail at a time for you to re-wire the part of your brain that associated Christmas with your parents that were somehow still together, yet should have been divorced, and a lack of lights and warmth into a special time for you and him, he would. Mikko Rantanen would have made the snowmelt in Denver for you if he could, because he loved you, as much as someone is capable of loving another person. And all he wanted for Christmas was to give you one new tradition that you loved, one that could be shared with just the two of you until hopefully one day there were toddlers running around the tree. 

The first thing you did together was get a tree. It was a small tree, its branches were short and stubby and it couldn’t have been more than 2 feet tall even in the pot that it was nestled in. It wasn’t the tree that Mikko would have chosen, but when he saw your eyes brighten at the ceramic pot it was planted in, the 6 feet Douglass Fir’s lining the tree farm suddenly disappeared from his line of sight.

“Are you sure this one’s okay, Mik? I don’t want to mess with the tradition.” You quietly asked, your arm wrapped tightly around his as he pushed the tree in the cart toward the car. You didn’t want to change the things that he was trying to show you, but deep down you were finding yourself longing for this to be something you created with him, memories and traditions to have together. It may have seen silly to outsiders, putting so much thought into something that should have been simple, but you were trying to let him show you the magic of Christmas that he had spent years keeping from you at your own request, and part of that process was trying to redesign the idea about Christmas that you had built in your head. 

“I love it, it’s perfect for us.” He smiled at you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, the black pom on your hat ticking his nose slightly as he stood back up.

The tree sat undecorated on a table by the window for nearly a week. With Mikko being gone on a road trip, you had just pushed it to the outskirts of your mind, figuring it would get done eventually. On the fifth morning that you woke up alone, you leaned over the counter as your coffee brewed, the tree sitting there on the table directly in front of you, Mikko’s good morning text replaying in your mind. You looked out the window, admiring the snow falling over the city, the grey clouds casting a shadow into your already grey and modern home. You sighed, and before you realized what you were doing, you found yourself wandering into the storage closet and pulling out a bin that you had never once touched or even looked at. 

You set your coffee down on the floor next to the tree and slowly opened the plastic container, the contents carefully wrapped in protective tissue, ornaments you knew he had collected over the years since moving to Denver. You took a shaky breath and closed your eyes slowly, an image of Mikko dancing through your mind. You opened your eyes and grabbed an ornament, a small antique looking Santa, a chip on his leg from wear and tear and a black ink smudge on the bottom, 2002, presumably the year that it was bought. You carefully hung it on the tree, leaning back to admire it for a moment before reaching your hand back into the bin to grab another. This one, 1999. You took each ornament one by one, taking almost an hour to decorate this two-foot-tall tree sitting on a table against your high rise condo window, each ornament having a year written somewhere on them, leaving you to begin to wonder all of the circumstances that had led to Mikko having that specific ornament.

When all was done, the tree had ornaments but no lights, a pot instead of a tree skirt, and there was nothing sitting on top of it that resembled a star. Instead, you placed a photo of you and Mikko carefully next to the pot, one that was taken just shortly after you told him you loved him for the first time, one that to you, symbolized a new shift to your relationship, one that you were hopefully emulating by decorating this tree. 

When Mikko came home late that night, tired and ready to crawl into bed next to you after almost a week apart, he stopped in the living room when he saw the light still on. In his foggy state of mind, he didn’t even notice the tree until he was reaching to turn off the small lamp sitting next to it, pausing in a state of shock when he realized what exactly he was looking at. It wasn’t how he would have decorated it, the ornaments were in the completely wrong places, some too densely placed, and the lack of lights was a design choice that he wasn’t sure was intentional or not. But, Mikko felt his heart grow looking at it. A tree that a year ago you would have never said yes to buying, let alone decorating that you had spent time on doing yourself. Mikko turned off the light, walking into the bedroom to find you peacefully asleep on your side of the bed. He wrapped himself around you, pulling you close and pressing a soft kiss into your neck, murmuring his love for you before drifting to sleep. 

The next morning you woke up in a familiar trance, soft and needy kisses shared between you as his hands guided your hips and their movements on top of him, heavy breaths filling the space as you held each other close, making up for the lost time of that week. When you slid off of him, he pulled your face down to his one last time, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, “Minä rakastan sinua,” melting from his lips, “I love you,” in Finnish. 

“I love you, too, Mikko.” You said back, your heart full and your cheeks flushed. 

By the time Mikko emerged from the shower, you had already made coffee and were sitting on the couch reading. He came up next to you, setting a small box in front of you as he sat down. You set your book down, eyeing him curiously as he began to speak.

“I noticed you decorated the tree, and I have something for you, for us that we could put on it together.” He carefully unwrapped the box, a silver ornament resting neatly in it. You carefully pulled the ornament from the box, the shiny material feeling smooth in your hands until you noticed something scratchy on the sides. You turned the ornament, your eyes welling with tears when you saw what was engraved on the side. A date, the date that you said the famous three words for the first time, the same magnetic pull coming from the ornament he had made that you felt from the photograph. 

“I thought having a special ornament each year for just us could be a tradition we start together. It’s sort of like our first Christmas together, but it’s not the first that I’ve felt love for you.” He smiled. Mikko reached up and wiped your cheek tenderly, drying the tears that had fallen as he pulled you up and toward the tree. You hung the ornament on the small, imperfect tree with no lights, and as you looked out at Denver in the background, with Mikko curled around you, you felt that warmth he had always told you he felt about Christmas for the first time, a feeling that you hoped to carry with you for the rest of your life together.  

[awanderingdeal]

Chapter two of ‘Three of a Kind’ - A Nalexy and O’Knutzy fic. 

Rating: Explicit 

This is the chapter where Logan and Kasey cause a bit of chaos at dinner - all in good fun, of course! There is a little sauciness in this chapter but it’s very mild in comparison to chapter 1, the link to which is here if you need to catch up.

Thank you to @bkfstclubmember for betaing this, you incredible human being.

And as always, @lumosinlove thank you so very much for creating these characters and this universe and for allowing us to run wild with them. 

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Despite the several hours of sleep that Alex had achieved the previous night, he still found himself exhausted as he took a seat at the large dining table.

Finn raised an eyebrow at the yawn that escaped Alex’s mouth. “Boring you already, big brother?” he smirked, uncorking a bottle of wine and placing it on the table. “Help yourselves. Or there’s beer in the fridge if you’d prefer.”

“You, bore me? Never.” Alex bantered, pouring for both Natalie and Kasey before filling his own glass. “These two just wear me out.”

Finn grimaced, almost choking on the sip of wine he had taken. “There are certain things that I do not need to know, thank you very much.” 

“I didn’t mean that!” Alex protested, flashing a glare at Natalie and Kasey as they failed to hide their laughter. “I just meant that we’ve been busy today! Basketball, shopping, helping Nat film her next video…”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Leo interrupted as he sauntered into the room. “Food will be ready in ten minutes,” he added whilst placing the stack of plates that he had been carrying into the centre of the table.  

Alex rolled his eyes, a habit that had been happening with increasing frequency since he’d started spending more time with Natalie, “Thanks for the back-up, Knut.” 

Leo grinned at Alex before turning to the other O’Hara, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Stay, catch up with your brother,” he said, pre-empting the offer of help from his boyfriend. 

Before Finn could argue, Kasey had pushed back his seat and stood up, “I can help carry stuff. I’m strong,” he said, sending Alex an entirely indiscreet wink and enjoying the blush that crept over his cheeks.

 “I don’t even want an explanation. Just come and be useful.” Leo raised an eyebrow, leading his fellow goalkeeper back towards the kitchen. 

The conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm; general life updates, small complaints about work, gentle teasing about relationships. Finn tried to avoid the last one because he was outnumbered but he found Leo and Logan’s names constantly falling from his lips. 

He told Natalie about the time that they were on a vacation in France and their parents were frantic because they had lost five year old Alex. They found him in a cupboard eating a baguette that was “as tall as he was.” 

“I don’t know why you have to constantly tell that story?” Alex questioned, his arm slipping from around Natalie’s shoulder as he became more animated. “You would have been...what, six months old? You don’t even remember it happening.”

Finn was about to reply when Leo’s voice from the kitchen grabbed his attention, “ Don’t you dare, Tremz.” 

Finn could just imagine the slow smirk growing across Logan’s face and he couldn’t resist the urge to witness the exchange that was about to happen. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, expecting Natalie and Alex to stay at the table, but they were right behind him as he hurried to the other room. 

As they arrived, Logan dragged his finger out of his mouth, lips smacking together with a dramatic moan. “It’s so good.” he smirked, his eyes never leaving Leo’s. 

Finn quickly put  together the scene before him.  Leo’s exasperated expression. The dent in the macaroni cheese. Logan’s grin. 

Leo paid no attention to the crowd that had gathered in the doorway. He quietly placed the oven gloves down on the counter, rounded the island, leaned into Logan’s ear and whispered. Finn couldn’t make out the words, but the tap on Logan’s butt gave him a good idea of what had been said and his eyes widened at the thought. Logan, however, didn’t even blush. He just gave a nod before reaching for the dish of macaroni. 

Leo smacked at his hands. “Nope, you can take the salad.” 

He turned to Kasey, “And you, stop encouraging him.” he chastised lightly, placing a bowl of green beans into one of Kasey’s giant hands and the coleslaw in the other. 

“I can take two, as well,” Logan objected.

Leo pushed him gently in the direction of the door. “How about you concentrate on getting to the table without eating all the food first, huh?” 

As the pair made their way out the room, Kasey stopped placing a kiss on Natalie’s lips. “Hey, gorgeous,” he smiled, giving Alex a kiss as well when he whined, dropping a whispered comment that Finn thankfully did not hear. 

Still, he proclaimed loudly, “Lalalala, I can’t hear you,” shuddering dramatically at the end of his words. 

Natalie rolled her eyes at Finn’s dramatics, took Alex’s hand and returned Kasey’s kiss on his cheek, “Come on, troublemaker, you’re supposed to be making Leo’s life easier.”  

Finn returned the stuck out tongue that Alex gave him as he retreated from the room before making his way over to Leo and pulling him into a hug. “Hey Nutter Butter, you okay?”

Leo leaned into the hug, leaning his head on Finn’s, “Yeah, you know Lo. He doesn’t mean any harm. Also, I promised to make it worth his while later if he behaves so you know…” he replied, letting a small laugh slip into his words. 

“You know that is just going to make him worse, right?” Finn snorted, bumping Leo’s chin lightly as he looked up. 

“I do.” Leo nodded, giving Finn a cheeky glance as he reluctantly pulled away from his boyfriend. “Can I trust you with the mac ‘n’ cheese?” he asked jokingly as he placed the dish into Finn’s hands. 

“I don’t know,” Finn chuckled, “It smells fucking amazing.” 

“Always with the compliments.” Leo smiled gently, dropping a kiss to Finn’s hair before picking up the last two serving dishes - bourbon soaked ribs and potato salad. “Go on, before they think we’re up to no good in here.” 

Finn led the way into the dining room, putting his dish down with a grin knowing they had approximately 3 seconds until -

“What the hell?” Logan began, his tone far less aggressive than his actual words. “ So Finn gets to carry the macaroni, but I can’t?” 

Finn was about to chirp back at Logan when Leo added his platters to the table. “Finn doesn’t stick his fingers in the macaroni on the way,” Leo quipped, taking a seat to Logan’s right.

“This is favouritism.” Logan whined.

“Anyway.” Leo started, not letting himself get baited into the argument, knowing that was exactly what Logan wanted, “Let’s eat, shall we. I know it’s far from dietician approved, but what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

The next few moments were an organised chaos of serving dishes being passed back and forth around the table, eventually falling into a conversation about the Lion’s latest game. 

“Told you it works.” Alex boasted after Finn recalled the new play that he and Logan had tried for the first time. “You two executed it pretty well though,” he admitted with a smile. 

“Excuse me,” Kasey interrupted with a grin. “I got a shutout. Are we just not going to talk about that? I had to listen to you two shower lover boys in praise for weeks after his.” he moaned.

“You did great, sweetcheeks,” Natalie leaned in, wiping a mess of sauce from Kasey’s lips with her napkin, replacing it with a kiss.  

“Did you not get enough praise that night?” Alex hummed, bumping his shoulder against Kasey’s. 

Finn screeched, “ Nope, no, absolutely not. We will have no talk of you sexing my brother at the dinner table.”

 “Wow, O’Hara 2.0,” Natalie placed her wine glass down on the table. “So, that’s how it is, huh? We get to listen to you drone on about your boys for hours at a time, but one mention of Alex’s prowess in bed and all bets are off?”

“See, you get it. This is why you are the brains of the relationship.” Finn replied, before gesturing in Leo and Logan’s direction. “Besides, we are cute.”

“Hmm, I suppose you are.” Natalie cocked her head, “I still think I got the better end of the deal though.”

Suddenly, a piece of bread flew across the table hitting Kasey square in the forehead. “Not such a good goalie, now, huh?” Logan jibbed. 

“That’s not fair!” Kasey whined. “Natalie was being all cute. Do it again.” he encouraged, adjusting his sitting position.

“Absolutely not.” Leo drawled, placing a hand over Logan’s, which was tearing another piece of bread off his roll, “How old are you? Do you need to sit on your hands?” 

Leo realised his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth and Logan’s eyes shined a little brighter. 

“I can sit on my hands, but you’ll have to feed me.” 

Finn bit back a groan, trying to ignore the way his all of his blood seemed to have rushed southwards. He really, really loved the fact that Logan was seemingly shameless sometimes.  

“And we were being inappropriate?” Alex taunted.

“Oh, I can be inappropriate if you want.” Kasey said lowly.

Natalie let out an uncharacteristically high pitched giggle, seconds before Finn felt a brush against his foot. Kasey managed to maintain an expression of perfect innocence for barely ten seconds before a guilty smile replaced it. There might have been a time in previous years where he might have enjoyed the contact a little bit too much, but now any thoughts of Natalie and Kasey were infinitely linked with his brother and it made him feel a little bit nauseous. 

“Are you playing footsie under the table?” Finn groused, lifting the table cloth. 

Leo sat back in his chair and gave a sigh, “How am I the youngest person here and yet the most mature?” 

“Sorry, Leo. The food is great, it really is.” Natalie apologised, sending Kasey and Alex a look. 

“Kasey started it.” Alex grumbled under his breath, but quieted when Natalie’s eyebrow rose. 

“Don’t worry.” Leo waved it off, “I can grab dessert if we’re ready?” he asked the table, receiving a round of nods. “Do you mind getting the plates, Fish?” he asked, smiling at the eager nod that he got in reply. 

“Lo, come help me?” he added, squeezing Logan’s shoulder affectionately as he got up from the table. 

Once Leo was out the room, Natalie waved a hand in Finn’s direction, “Cover your ears if you’re going to get all dramatic.” 

Finn shoved his seat back, grabbing the pile of plates that he had made. “Just give me ten seconds to get out the room, please?” he pleaded. 

“Don’t behave...beg…” Finn only caught a few words as he was leaving, but the quiet groans from Kasey was still too much.

His thoughts of bleaching his brain were dismissed when he reached the kitchen. Logan was pressed up against the counter, Leo’s hand shoved down his pants, their faces inches apart.

“Oh hey, sweetheart.” Leo greeted, his hands playing idly with Logan’s balls drawing a whimper from the shorter boy. “I was just explaining to Logan that what happens later is entirely up to him and that he might want to check his behaviour,” Leo worked a mark into the expanse of skin on Logan’s neck in between words.

“I love my life,” Finn murmured quietly, taking a breath before making himself move. He wasn’t sure how he managed it, but he was able to put the stack down onto a counter without dropping them from his shaking hands. He contorted his features into something resembling relaxed as he leaned his weight against the marble work surface. “I’m sure Logan will be very well behaved from now on. Right, Lo?” 

Logan’s curls bounced at the side of his snapback with his nods, “Yes, I’ll be good. I promise,” Logan gasped out. 

Leo kissed Logan firmly on the lips, did his boyfriend’s pants button up and stepped away. “Let’s try and get through dessert without scaring our guests then, yeah?” 

“I think he’ll have to work a bit harder if that’s the goal. Those three are worse than us.” Finn laughed and then shuddered as he realised that his brother was included in ‘those three’.

“Not helping, Finn,” Leo shot back, grabbing the small glasses of panna cotta out of the fridge. “Allez. Come on,” he added, once he’d checked that Logan and Finn had mostly recomposed themselves. 

The three of them made their way back to the dining room to find Alex sat in Kasey’s lap, lips nuzzling his cheek and Natalie’s eyes crinkling with laughter. 

“I will never unsee this,” Finn groaned, pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes. “Can you make out somewhere that isn’t my house?” 

“We are not making out,” Kasey scoffed, “But maybe we should make that happen? For accuracy’s sake.”

“Who invited you, again?” Finn questioned, automatically reaching to take the tray from Leo, but received a shake of his head and a quiet, “I’ve got it thanks, Fish”

“I’m down for you making out, if we can make out.” Logan piped up, when Leo leaned over his shoulder to place his dessert in front of him. 

“So much for good behaviour,” Leo remarked, taking the final glass for himself and putting the empty tray into the centre with the rest of the empty serving dishes.

 Probably should have cleared those too, Finn thought, but in his own defence he’d been otherwise occupied. 

“This is actually a recipe that Logan suggested, so if it’s disgusting then you can blame him.” Leo started to explain the dessert. “It’s a vanilla panna cotta with a -”

The words were interrupted by a quite frankly obscene groan from Logan who hadn’t waited for the description to be finished before diving into his desert. He looked up sheepishly when he realised that the entire table's eyes were on him. 

“Ok. That was truly an accident,” Logan defended, his accent filtering heavily into the words - a sign that he was actually a bit embarrassed. “The rum jelly is just so good with the vanilla, mon lion.”

Leo coughed a few times, his throat suddenly itchy. “Thanks Lo. I guess that’s the cue for the rest of us to start.”

There was a beat of silence before they all began to eat and the atmosphere relaxed again, the conversation moving quickly between topics. Finn was just getting suspicious of how quiet Logan had become when he began to speak, “Hey! Shall we play truth or dare after we finish? That could be fun with drinks.” 

There was a collective groan followed by a resounding, “No” from everybody except Kasey, whose voice broke through the noise. “I’ll play.” he grinned. “I choose dare.”

“This is how people end up in fountains, Kasey!” Finn waved his hands about, a bit of panna cotta flying off the spoon he was holding and landing on Leo’s t-shirt. He didn’t think it was that funny, but Logan and Kasey practically had tears in their eyes from laughing so hard.

“Sorry,” Finn apologised quickly, picking up his napkin to dab at the offending mark. 

Leo patted his hand against Finn’s, “Hey, it was an accident. Leave it, it’ll come out in the wash.” he reassured before looking up, his eyes meeting Natalie’s, “I don’t think we’ll be playing any games after dinner, I’m afraid. My mama would probably scold me for chucking you out but it’s been a long day. I hope you understand.”

Natalie flicked her hair back off her shoulder, “Of course, darling. That’s not a problem. We should be getting off soon, anyway. Early start in the morning, you know.” she smiled in a way that was somehow both completely innocent and yet menacing. 

Despite the fact that they ate their dessert in record time, every second seemed to drag for Finn. He felt a bit guilty that he wasn’t taking better advantage of the time with his brother but he’d see him again soon enough. Besides, he reasoned with himself, Alex was probably just as eager to get home as Finn was to have them leave. The thought was confirmed later as Alex pulled him into a hug as he was leaving murmuring into his ear, “ Enjoy your evening little brother, I sure will.” 

Finn was sure his face had turned a shade of red that matched his hair as he shoved Alex away but despite all the exasperated sighs and groaning, he was glad that Alex seemed to have found the same kind of love that he had. 

[bqstqnbruin]

Come back to me part 3

I actually finished this today and then they won (to my Flyer’s fans please do not hate me I love you all) so here I am posting part three much quicker than I posted part 2.

I hope you like this!

Update! Read the entire series: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6  // Part 7

________________

“Y/N, guess what?” you hear Kyle yelling as soon as he hears you come in the door. You were incredibly late getting out of work, stepping in your apartment at almost nine pm. You follow his voice to the kitchen to see him standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot, which means he waited to have dinner with you. Either that, or he got tired of waiting and decided to start cooking anyway. Before you can answer, he kisses you on the cheek and starts bouncing on the balls of his feet like a child. “I got a job.”

“Oh, my god! Kye, that’s awesome!” you say, truly excited for him. “Where?” 

“With you!” he exclaims, clearly not noticing the shock on your face. He got a job at your company? Oh god, that means you would have to spend your entire day with him. “I’m doing stuff with the finance department.”

Not your department, thankfully. “Kye, that’s amazing! We should celebrate!” you say, going into your pantry to see if you had any wine on hand. 

“Can we invite Mat?” you hear him say as you stick your head in the fridge, hoping to find an open bottle there instead.

“After what you said to him at the restaurant the other night? That we still haven’t talked about?” you ask, not removing your head from the fridge.

“I need to apologize to him.” 

“And me.” 

“Yeah.” You close the fridge, no wine, which you suddenly desperately wished you had. You cock your eyebrow at him waiting for an actual apology. “Oh,” he says, when he looks at you, seeing the annoyance in your face, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten mad. And then I shouldn’t have stormed off.” 

“Thank you,” you say, going behind him and wrapping him in a hug. “You really want me to call Mat and ask him to come here?” 

“Yeah.”

You go off to get your phone, dialing Mat. “Hey, what’s up?” you hear him ask. 

“Hey, what are you doing tonight? We wanted to have you over.”

“Uh, the guys and I are fucking celebrating!” he yells, commotion going on behind him. You can make out Anthony and Kieffer yelling, too, screaming in Mat’s ear about who knows what. “Come celebrate with us,” he says, clearly already drunk. “I’ll text you the address.”

“Uh, sure. Is it alright if Kyle comes, too? We had planned to celebrate a little anyway.” 

“Yes! Bring your boyfriend,” he hiccups, you can’t help but smile and roll your eyes, “Fuck, sorry. Bring your fiance! Let’s all celebrate together!” he says, hanging up.

“I guess we’re going to someone’s house? Is that alright?” you ask, plugging the address into your phone. You could feel your heart start to race at the thought of going to see Mat, even with your fiance right there.

Even with your fiance right there. “Yeah, I’m down,” he shrugs, handing you a plate of food. 

----------

“If that was Mona, I’m going to kill you,” Tito says once Mat hangs up his phone. All of them were already way too wasted for their own good. But they had reason to celebrate: they not only broke their losing streak, but they broke it with a shutout against the Rangers. None of them cared that they were going to regret their partying in the morning. 

“No, it was Y/N, her and Kyle are coming,” he says, probably too chipper considering you would be flaunting your fiance in front of him. 

‘Stupid Kyle,’ he thought to himself, ‘Kyle gave you that ring on your finger as if you belonged with him. Y/N belongs with me. Fuck am I drunk.’ He knew he had to sober up fast if he was going to see you and Kyle, but part of him didn’t really care. They won a game for what felt like the first time in forever. 

“How are you letting the wife bring her fiance here?” Tito asks.

“She is Kyle’s wife, not mine,” Mat slurs, praying it was enough for Tito to stop that. He didn’t need a reminder that the love of his life was with someone else. 

Holy shit. Love of his life? Since when did he think you were that? Was he only thinking that because he was drunk?

“I’m going to get some water,” he says, navigating his way through his teammates and their wives and girlfriends. He chugs the cup, quickly getting another in hopes that he could sober up enough to see you. Given his thoughts, he wasn’t sure what word vomit would spill out of his mouth when he saw you walk in with Kyle. 

“Mat!” he hears Tito yell. “Come here!” Mat rolls his eyes, filling up his cup with water one more time. Going back to where he left his two teammates, he sees two more people have joined them. 

His heart starts racing as he approaches you and Kyle, both of your backs to him. You were intently listening to something Kieffer was telling you, seemingly unaware that Mat was even approaching. He stops and almost turns around when he sees Kyle put his hand at the same of your back, rubbing his hand in small, circular motions. You look at him, a smile on your face, one that doesn’t quite reach our eyes. 

“There he is!” Tito says, clearly needing the water more than Mat did. “Look who it is! Y/N and Kyle!”  

His breath stops when you turn to look at him, yours doing the same. Your eyes light up at the sight of him, feeling excited that he was there. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this about Kyle. ‘No, stop that,’ you tell yourself, ‘you’re just excited over seeing an old friend.’

“Hey, do you guys want something to drink?” He offers, hoping that a drunk Tito and Kieffer wouldn’t follow and start rambling about you being with Mat. 

“I’ll have water,” Kyle says, waving his keys in the air. 

“I’ll take whatever you have,” you say, smiling at Mat.

He returns the smile, leading you and Kyle into the kitchen to get you drinks. A bunch of the girls had congregated around the island in the center, guarding the drinks like it was their only mission for the night. 

“Mathew! Who’s your friend?” one of them squeals as he tries to weasel his way between them for whatever was left to drink.

He introduces you and Kyle, only getting a few seconds in of conversation with you before one of the girls yells, “Ok, boys out. Leave, now,” pushing Mat and Kyle out of the room, leaving you to fend for yourself in a group of drunk and giggling girls.

“I’m Lauren,” one of the girls introduces herself to you, “Jordan’s wife.” You nod along, pretending to know who that is while the girls lose themselves in conversation. “So you’re engaged? Did Mat not tell us he had a fiance?” Lauren asks you, quiet enough that the other girls couldn’t hear you.

“Oh, yeah I’m engaged, but no not to Mat,” you explain, telling her the other guy with you was your fiance. “What’s married life like?”

Her face gets soft, thinking about her husband, the same type of expression you get when you think about Mat. Wait, no. When you think about Kyle. Wow, this alcohol hit fast. “It’s hard, but it’s still blissful. I mean, we’ve been together since high school. It’s like, ok well, picture this,” she says, taking a sip of whatever was in her cup, “Like imagine you’re sitting there on a rainy day on your place. You’re reading by the window, and he comes over and brings you a cup of tea, then lifts your legs so that he can sit with them in your lap. He’ll watch something on his phone with ear buds because he doesn’t want to disturb you, but he doesn’t want to be away from you. It’s sweet moments like that where you know he loves you without you having to ask him why.”

You close your eyes, picturing the scene she just described. You aren’t in your home, though, you’re somewhere else, you just can’t figure out where. You’re sitting there reading, the rain falling against the window. He comes over, gives you your favorite tea in your favorite mug, you not even having to ask for it. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before settling into the couch, this phone ready to watch whatever show he wants to.

But it isn’t Kyle. His blonde hair was no where to be seen in your thoughts. You saw a brunette, and you knew exactly which one it was.

You open your eyes, Lauren staring at you with a smile, knowing you were thinking about your future. “You and Kyle?”

You force a small smile. “Yeah,” you lie, “Me and Kyle.”

------------

You know when you see her blonde ponytail that you were going to regret what was going to happen next. You knew exactly what was going to happen, since the same thing seemed to happen daily. Thank god Kyle didn’t work in your department, because something tells you he wouldn’t like to see your reaction to this.

“I need to see it!” Rachel squeals, standing in your cubicle when both of you were supposed to be working. 

You can’t help but roll your eyes at her, more of your friends surrounding your chair. God, why did they like the ring so much? “You’ve seen it every day since I started.”

“And? It’s fucking gorgeous. That kind of stone belongs in a museum,” Ally adds, obviously exaggerating.

It wasn’t that the ring wasn’t beautiful, it just wasn’t your style. There was also no way it belonged in a museum, but whatever. You extend your hand, the girls gushing over it as you fake a smile. Once they get it out of their system, they start to file away, hopefully going back to work. One of the girls stays around, Jessica. 

“Ok, what’s up,” she asks, plopping herself down on your desk.

“What are you talking about?” 

“Call me crazy, but shouldn’t you be excited to show off your engagement ring? I mean, you’re planning a wedding, it’s supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life.” 

“We haven’t even started planning it, actually. Honestly, it’s never even on my mind,” you admit. And you’re telling her the truth. You have no plans, and part of you isn’t sure you want to start making any. 

“Well, why do you think that is?” Jessica asks. She’s probably your closest friend at the office: she knows the most about you, she already knows about Mat, but she doesn’t know everything. 

“When I see myself married, I don’t see Kyle as my husband. And I want to, I do. I love him. I mean, he moved here from Vancouver for me, we’ve been together since we were in high school. How could I not love him?”

Jessica looks at you. She has to know you mean what you say. You really do love Kyle: he’s sweet, he’s caring, yeah he forgets shit, but you don’t remember everything about him, either. But, there’s just something missing. Maybe you were with him because it was just easy? “It sounds like you’re engaged to your boyfriend, not your future husband.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Around the corner, Kyle was coming to surprise you with lunch. He knows you were planning on going out anyway, so he figured he might as well get you something and the two of you could eat together. He hears his name, stopping in his tracks.

“I think that Kyle is at most going to be your boyfriend. I don’t think he’s the right man for you to be your husband, and that’s not fair to either of you.”

“What do I do?” you ask, burying your face in your hands. You had to call it off with Kyle, but could you tell him that?

“You can’t let your boyfriend get in the way of finding your husband. But, I think your husband is closer than you think,” she says, getting up to leave. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Kyle had heard that entire thing. Were you going to break up with him? He couldn’t lose you: for him, you were everything. He loved you, he wanted to marry you. He couldn’t see his life without you in it. He watches Jessica walk away, hearing you sigh and mutter something under your breath. He can’t let you know that he heard everything. 

You get out your phone, texting Mat that you wanted to catch up with him tonight, just the two of you. You felt like you had to talk to him and him only. 

“Hey, babe,” you hear, startling you as you press send slightly prematurely on your text to Mat. You see Kyle standing in front of you, two to go containers in hand. “Want to have lunch together? We can go sit outside since it’s still nice out.” He’s trying to hide the sadness that he was feeling. Who was your husband then, if it wasn’t him? 

“Uh, yeah, sure! Let me just send this and then we can go?” you ask, pointing to your phone.

“Who are ya texting?” he asks, in a sing song voice, the only tone he can get out without sounding mean or hostile in anyway.

“Mat.”

Mat. Mathew. He couldn’t be the husband, could he?

---------

Mat’s phone starts buzzing on his counter, an involuntary groan leaving his lips. He had been avoiding Mona since the game, telling her that he was going right to sleep after the win instead of to Cal’s house like they actually did. That, of course, meant that Paxton and Mona decided to leave his phone constantly buzzing.

Another text from Paxton shows up on his screen, in addition to the many that he had already ignored. ‘You have a date with Mona tonight.’ Not asking him, telling him. He rolls his eyes, putting his phone down and tries to make lunch for himself. Another vibration: ‘so text her and tell her you’re taking her out.’

He could easily pretend that he was working out when these messages came in, or just said he was at practice, something, anything that would mean that he wouldn’t have to answer Paxton and Mona’s constant complaints. 

His phone starts buzzing again. “Mother fucker, do you ever rest?” he nearly screams, picking up the phone to see what Satan or Satan’s keeper wanted. Instead it was a text from you, immediately followed by another one. 

‘Hey, can we get together to’

‘Fuck, sorry, got distracted. Can we get together tonight?’ 

He smiles at the thought of you asking him out. No, wait. You were just hanging out as friends, it’s not like you could date him or anything. He immediately starts laying out a plan with you, where what time, stuff like that. 

As soon as he hits send, Paxton’s name pops up on his phone. “So where are you taking Mona tonight?” 

“Hello to you, too,” Mat huffs, clearly annoyed. 

“Where. Are. You. Taking. Mona. Tonight.” Paxton repeats, pausing between each word so that he could be as dramatic as possible.

“I have plans with a friend who’s in town from home. They leave tomorrow and this is my only chance to see them. I’ll see her tomorrow,” Mat fibs. He was going to be out with you, a friend from home. You just weren’t leaving tomorrow.

“If you wait until tomorrow then Mona will have no choice but to break up with you,” Paxton says calmly on the other end, as if that were actually a threat.

“Is that a promise?” Mat snaps, picturing Paxton’s shocked reaction at his outburst as he gasps, “Have you really not figured out that I do not care? She’s a sweet girl, but she’s far from being my girlfriend.” 

“Then tomorrow, Mona will dump you, and she will be made out to look like the one who needs pity. You will never date someone from this agency again.” 

“Another promise? Wanna go for three?” Mat asks before hanging up his phone, not letting Paxton get another word in. He could be rid of Mona tomorrow. What an amazing thought. 

----------

You were meeting Mat at his place, ordering dinner, watching a movie, having wine, pretty much having a girls night, expect for the fact that Mat wasn’t a girl. You had to really talk this out with someone, and he was the only one you could before facing Kyle. 

The two of you were half way through the large pizza you had ordered, a movie on that you weren’t paying attention to, your feet in Mat’s lap while he focused on the TV.

“Hey Mat?” you ask him, looking at his profile.

“What’s up? Do you need another piece? It’s so much easier for you to reach than for me to stretch over your big feet,” he teases, a smile growing on his face even without looking away from the TV.

“Asshole, no. I wanted to talk to you.” You take in a deep breath as he pauses the movie. “It’s about me and Kyle.” 

“What about it?” he asks, finally turning to look at you.

“Well, you know both of us before we were together, and you know us now. So I guess, what do you think of us?”

“You’re not you when you’re with him,” Mat says, studying your face. “You’re cold, you’re closed off. You’re not like you were when we,” he stops, sucking in a breath. Neither of you had outright mentioned your past to each other, even though you knew it was there. “When we were together.”

“Mat, we were together between the ages of fourteen and seventeen. I’ve been with Kyle since we were eighteen. People change. You have,” you say, trying to make a point. 

“How?”

“You’re,” you start, wishing you hadn’t. You don’t know how he’s changed. If anything, he was just a better version of what you loved when you were young: he wasn’t afraid to act like an idiot, but knew when to tone it down and get to work on something. He was sweet, paying attention to every detail of the people he cared about. He dove right into everything he was passionate about, never letting anyone tell him it was ridiculous or letting people talk him out of whatever it was he wanted to do. “You haven’t. You’re high school Mat 2.0.” 

“You have changed, though,” Mat says, looking down at his hands. Even though he was hiding his face, you could see the frown forming on it, reaching to his eyes and dulling the spark that was normally there. 

“What was I like then?” you ask, wondering who he saw you as.

He swallows, “You were chaotic perfection,” he looks up at you, a smile on his face, “You were somehow all over the place and perfectly composed at the same time. You would always have the loudest laugh, the widest smile, never afraid to be spontaneous, like that time we decided to drive to Seattle, but you were always planning everything. No detail would go unnoticed, but you could never pull away to see the bigger picture. I think that part of your high school self you’ve kept, but I don’t know about everything else.” 

He stops, waiting for you to say something. When you don’t, he continues, “When you’re with Kyle, it’s almost like you don’t want to declare to the world that he was yours and you were his. Like you don’t want people to know that part of your identity is him. You’re careful about what you say, and what you do say is the bare minimum. When we were together, and this might just be because we were younger and more obnoxious, we would be proud of each other. Fuck, every time you tell someone you’re engaged, your ears get red, you tuck your hair behind your ear and you don’t look the person in the eye. You just look at the ring, but not like you’re admiring it. It’s like you’re questioning it.”

You can feel the tears in your eyes start to slide down your cheeks. He was right. Every word he said, he was right. “Y/N?” he says, putting his hand on yours. “Can I ask something?” You nod, not sure if you can get words out without sobbing. “Why did you say yes to him? To Kyle?”

“I don’t know,” you let out quickly. 

“Do you love him?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. You think you do, but something was telling you that what you felt wasn’t the love you wanted. “Can I ask something now?”

“Always.”

“Do you love Mona?”

“No,” he says, point blank. “I don’t. I do not love her.”

“Then why are you with her?”

Without missing a beat, because he’s told this to Tito and Kieffer, he starts, “Right now it’s just easy. It’ll be over soon, though. Tito keeps telling me I need to find my wife, but I don’t know where to look.” That was a lie. Tito called it from the start: you are the wife. Mat knew it, the entire team knew it.

“My friend from work told me don’t let my boyfriend get in the way of finding my husband,” you admit. You sit there for a moment, just staring at each other in silence. “Kyle isn’t the one I’m meant to be with,” you say, shocked that you even just said that out loud. Part of you always knew that, but you never thought you would say it.

Mat laughs, running his hand through his hair, “Looks like we’re both gonna be looking for our spouses, then?” he asks, adding a slightly disgusted tone to the word ‘spouse.’

You look down at the ring that’s still sitting on your finger. “Fuck. I need to look for a different husband.” You look up at Mat, who’s looking off to the side at something. Maybe you didn’t need to look too hard. 

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 11

Series Masterlist

A/N: Never be with someone like Mike, find someone who has respect for you and everyone they meet!

Summary: You bring Oliver to some team functions and meet some of the wags and players. You test out the dating pool for the first time since getting pregnant.

Warnings: Angst, swearing

Word Count: 4100

Chapter 11

January 26, 2022

Fred returns from a morning skate, with a game later that night. He has a small bag in his hand that he sets on the coffee table before sitting beside you on the couch as Oliver is lying on his play mat.

“Hey can I talk to you for a sec?” he asks.

“Yeah”

“So I was wondering if you wanted to come with Oliver to the game tonight.”

You stare at him, not completely unreasonable. Most wags brought their kids to games or at least warm ups. Even though you weren’t a wag you were the only person who could bring Ollie, as you hadn’t even discussed if there was a need for a part time nanny. What else would you be doing on this Wednesday night?

“If you think he is too young or are uncomfortable with it, it’s not -"

“Yeah let’s do it. He’s more active and alert I think he’ll love to go.”

Fred smiles “good cause I got him this." He leans forward to grab the bag, he reaches in the bag to pull out a very tiny Penguin’s home jersey, it has his number but instead of his last name it says daddy . “His last one was getting a little tight” he says as you smile.

“You knew I was going to say yes this whole time.”

“I feel like I know you pretty well, and it’s for 3-6 months. I figured at some point in the next three months you would bring him so he can see his old man play” he says picking up Oliver who reaches for his dads face smiling.

You chuckle lightly. Fred kisses Oliver’s head “I’ll get a ride to and from the game so you can take my car with the car seat and leave early if needed. I’m going to go nap” he says handing you Oliver.

Later that night you pull up to the underground parking for family and players. You pull the car seat out and his diaper bag as you drop your purse “damn little lands” you mumble.

“Oh, let me help you" you hear as someone reaches down and grabs your purse for you “I’m Kathy, Sidney’s girlfriend. You must be (Y/N) I heard you would be coming tonight.” She says taking the diaper bag from your shoulder.

“Thanks, I didn’t think I needed a stroller for the small walk into the building,” you say smiling “probably could have helped.” You make small talk as she leads you to the WAG lounge where you are introduced to more beautiful women.

“Oh he has Fred’s eyes” one says “and his hair.” You pull him from the car seat and hand him off to Christina. You make casual conversation with them “want to go down for the warm up?” Kathy asks.

You nod scooping up Oliver, laughing as the women groan and grumble “don’t worry I’ll be back ladies” you say taking his little hand to wave goodbye.

“They can be a lot sometimes” Kathy starts “but they are great girls. We’re like a family, a bunch of sisters” you nod as you approach the glass. Fred see’s you and skates to the glass taping in front of Oliver’s face, Oliver stares at him.

You shift Oliver, instead of lying in your arms he is upright looking through the glass at Fred. Fred continues tapping on the glass smiling at his son.

“Oh that’s so cute” Kathy says.

“Yeah he is the best dad. Oliver’s really lucky” you start staring at your son “but so am I. This has been a crazy few months and although it’s not an ideal situation I wouldn’t want it with anyone else.” Fred skates away as the warmup is done up as you and Kathy find your seats.

“How are you doing with all this?” she gestures around the rink.

“For the most part he has kept it all pretty private. I mean even when he was born the team labelled it a ‘personal situation’ to the press, they didn’t say the birth of his son. I honestly don’t know if anyone outside last year’s leafs and some of this year pens know about him. Fred hasn’t posted anything on social media but he doesn’t put a whole lot on there.”

“How are you doing with the living situation, I know you are staying at Fred’s.”

“Yeah it’s been good; there have been these moments of like tension sometimes. Or at least I think there have been, maybe I’m imagining it, I don’t know.”

“Tension? Like fights?”

“No, more like sexual tension” You start as Kathy nods. “But I’m not sure. I think it will be better once I find a place of my own.”

“Oh Fred didn’t mention you were leaving.”

“Yeah I haven’t brought it up to him, I mentioned it back when I was pregnant but we decided to play it out.  I think it will be better if I leave, then we can date if we want too.”

“Do you want to date?”

“I don’t know, I was at a coffee shop the other day and started talking to someone while in line and gave him my number.” Kathy keeps staring at you “He has messaged me a bit, wants to meet up but I don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

Just as she is about to respond Oliver starts to cry “it’s probably the noise cancelling headphones, he is not a fan of them” you explain. Kathy nods as you head to the suite. You feed Oliver and change him into his penguin pyjamas as you set him in the car seat.

“Oh don’t leave” Christina cries.

“I can stick around for a bit, it’s just easier to have him in there in case he falls asleep later on.”

“Nonsense” she says grabbing him and scooping him up. “He will be perfectly fine right here” and he watched the remainder of the game being passed around between the women. When the final buzzer goes the Penguins have beat the senators 3-0, you didn’t mean to stay the whole time but Oliver didn’t fuss much and you were distracted talking to the girls.

Kathy leads you down to the area where you can wait for Fred after the game. Slowly players begin to trickle out, when Sidney comes out wrapping his arms around Kathy giving her a light kiss.

He turns to you “You must be (Y/N) and this guy must be Oliver” he says bending down to look at Oliver, who is asleep in his car seat on the floor.

“Yeah it’s nice to meet you.”

“Fred should be out soon, the media always has questions for the goalie after a shutout. Must have been his good luck charms he brought tonight” he gives you a soft smile. “Yeah” you chuckle in response.

“Well we better get going. Bye (Y/N). Nice meeting you” Sid says. “Yeah you too.”

Fred slowly strolls out a few minutes later looking down at his phone. He has on a black three piece game day suit, with his tie loosely hung around his neck.  The top two buttons of his shirt are undone providing you a glance at his chest, his hair was thrown to one side partially wet from the shower, seeing him like this makes you weak in the knees. He almost walks by until you call his name.

“Hey” he pulls you in for a hug. You smell his cologne mixed with his body wash, being pressed up against him breathing him causes your throat to catch. “I’m surprised you guys are still here.”

“Yeah the girls didn’t want to let go of him all night, I think they held onto him so he couldn’t leave.” He chuckles into your hair.

“Whatever the reason I’m glad you’re here” he says releasing you and picking up the car seat.

January 27, 2022

You wake up with Oliver and feed him leaving him on his play mat. As you are brewing coffee you hear Fred’s feet on the hardwood in the living room. He walks over to Ollie scooping him up from his swing “morning” he says.

“Morning. Coffee’s on, I’m going to go shower” you state heading down the hall. After your shower you return and hear Fred talking in hushed tones in the kitchen. “I don’t understand how this happened, I should have been consulted first.” You turn the corner from the hall to the kitchen and see he is on the phone “I have to go” he spits out before hanging up.

“Everything okay?” you question as you go to make a coffee.

“I have to tell you something” he starts as you sit at the island, Fred sits beside you holding Ollie in his lap. “So last night when you came to the game the Pen’s social media took some footage of you two.”

“Okay…” you respond waiting for him to continue.

“When you brought him to the glass they took a video of you holding him and put it on their story. They also took a picture where you can see the 3 of us. In both of these you can see his jersey that says Daddy on the back. The picture was posted that on their actual Instagram page after the game, with some caption about being daddy’s good luck charm.”

You casually take a sip of your coffee “and you are upset about this?” you question.

“Well I mean yeah. I have kept him hidden from my life, and I feel like I should have posted a picture of him before the team” you nod. “But you aren’t upset?” He asks kind of confused.

“I mean his dad is a professional athlete so I would be naïve to think he wouldn’t be photographed from time to time. But I don’t care if you keep him 100% hidden from that part of your life. It’s your choice, because it’s your career that will bring him into the light. If you want to post pictures you can, he is your son I won’t be upset about it. I’m not upset that his picture is posted but I get why it’s upsetting the team doing it before you.”

“You don’t care if I post pictures of him?”

“No. I post pictures of him all the time.” “Yeah but you are set to private.” “Would it bother you if I was set to public and posted pictures of him.”

“Well no, not at all.”

“Well that’s how I feel. He is your son so if you want to post pictures or videos post them, if you don’t want to then don’t. It’s your choice.”

“Are you upset about your face being shown in the picture?” he asks.

You shrug before answering “well they didn’t tag me in it. And nobody knows who I am, so I doubt people will be able to figure out who I am or find my page. And even if they do I’m private, I don’t accept people I don’t know so it’s not a big deal to me.”

“Oh I was mostly upset because I thought you would be. But since you’re not I guess I can call the team back before someone gets fired over it.”

“Good idea” you laugh. Fred hands you Ollie and stands up, just as he is leaving the room he turns around. “We have a family event this Sunday with the team.” He starts before pausing briefly “You guys want to come?”

“Of course” you smile, bouncing Oliver on your leg “it will be fun” you continue leaning in to kiss his cheek as he laughs. Fred stops and comes over to him “is that the first time he’s laughed?” he exclaims.

“Yeah it is! Quick get your phone!”

Fred pulls his phone out to videotape him “do it again” he says. You lean in kissing his cheek as you gently tickle his side. Oliver’s cute baby laughter fills the room as you continue doing it. Oliver stops and Fred turns the camera off kissing the top of Oliver’s head as he leans in to hug you. He kisses your hair “I can’t believe he did that” Fred whispers. He holds you for maybe a little too long before you chime in “Do you think you can watch Oliver tonight?” you question.

He pulls away “yeah of course. You going somewhere or just need a night off?”

“Um yeah… I was invited out to dinner” you answer shifting your eyes to Oliver “with Mike.”

You bounce Oliver a few times before you hear “like a date?”

You look up and see the disappointment in his eyes “I think so.”

“Oh. Well yeah Ollie and I will have a great time” he says scooping him from your arms “won’t we buddy.”

Later that day you are finishing getting ready for you date, Mike said he would pick you up at 7. It’s about 6:30 now. You straightened your hair and done your makeup as you stand looking into your closet. You settle on a simple black dress, has 3/4 sleeves with a high neck and ends just above your knees. You pair it with some high black boots. You walk out into the living room and see Fred carrying Oliver to the couch with a bottle in his hand. He tries to be subtly but you see his eyes lingering longer than they should, “you look nice” he says.

“Thanks” you say lightly.

Mike shows up late, at 7:20 and doesn’t even acknowledge that he is late, Fred went down to his room a little while ago, likely to avoid any awkward situations. He hands you a bouquet of roses “thanks” you say taking them from him “let me just put them in some water.” You walk to the kitchen, leaving Mike at the door to find a vase. You quickly place them in the corner of the kitchen before leaving with Mike.

The drive is painfully slow, the man beside you doesn’t seem like the man you met or have been texting with. He has told you multiple stories about “hanging with the guys” and some of the stuff that they do. He originally seemed sweet but at now he is coming across as a dick.

“Can you believe she brought us that?” he scoffs. “Like who wants the ’77, that wine is just trash.” You stare at him, unsure on how to respond. It seemed like a simple mistake to you, not something to berate the waitress over.

“What do you do for work?” he finally asks after an hour of talking about himself.

You shift slightly in your seat “I um work for an environmental consulting firm back in Toronto.”

“Oh why are you in Pittsburgh then?”

You take a deep breath “I am here on maternity leave, my sons father lives here so I came here.”

“Oh that’s awesome I love kids” he says, but somehow you don’t believe him. “So you heading back there after maternity leave or are you moving here for good?”

“Yeah I plan on leaving after my leave is over. I don’t have visas or a job to work down here” you say as you see a devilish grin come across his face. “So you’re not looking for something too serious then eh?” You aren’t sure how to process his question, but it is becoming very apparent to you what he is expecting from this.

As dinner wraps up you continue to become annoyed by Mike, he is continuously rude to the staff at the restaurant.

“Any dessert tonight?” your server asks.

Mike looks to you “I’m actually pretty full” you say lightly, trying to get out of this date as soon as possible. “Just the cheque please” Mike says to her.

After paying Mike heads to the bathroom. You put your coat on and look at the bill and realize he provided an extremely low tip. “What a dick” you mutter as you pull two twenties from your wallet and quickly slide them in the envelope.

“You ready?” you hear from behind you as you pull your hair out from inside your coat. You turn to walk in front of him, putting your hands in your pocket.

During the drive home he reaches over and rests his right hand on your thigh and begins sliding it up your leg. You grab his hand and push it off your leg toward the steering wheel. About 10 minutes in to the date you knew you weren’t going to see him again, and you wish you had of walked out then. He pulls up and parks in front of your building, you undo your seatbelt as you reach for your bag.

“Thanks for dinner” you say reaching for the door. You feel him reach across and turn your face to look at him. He leans in for a kiss as his hand firmly grips your leg. He begins sliding up, lifting the hem of your dress. You turn away from him “I feel like you got the wrong impression” you say removing his hand from your leg “I’m not interested in seeing you again.”

“You don’t need to see me again, just keep seeing me a little bit longer tonight” he moves you hair behind your ear “it will be fun.” His hand is back on your leg when you forcefully push him off you and quickly reach for the door practically running out the door.

You run to the elevator, your heart pacing as you step in trying to calm yourself. You don’t stop running until you are inside your apartment with the door locked behind you. You walk into the apartment the lights are off, but you can see the TV glow coming from Fred’s door indicating he is still awake. You kick your shoes and coat off as you walk to the kitchen to get a drink. You notice Fred moved the flowers to the middle of the island to be on display. Normally something so sweet would make you smile, but seeing them makes you angry.

Seeing them just reminds you of how big of a douche Mike was, and how terrible tonight was. You reach for the flowers to throw them in the trash but instead knock it the vase over, shattering on the floor.

You bend down picking up some of the larger pieces by hand. You are so agitated and stressed by the night’s events tears begin to build in your eyes. Through your blurry eyes you feel a piece of glass cut your palm as you mumble “fuck.”

“You okay?” you hear Fred question. “Yeah” you whisper. Fred see’s you gripping your hand, with blood dripping down.

“You’re bleeding, you’re not okay” he says leading you to the sink. He helps rinse your hand, he runs his thumb over the cut “I don’t think there is any glass in there. Stay here I’ll get some bandages.”

He comes back into the room with a first aid kit, and places some bandages on your palm.

“That should do it” he says.

“Thanks” you mutter.

Fred walks away to grab the broom and begins to sweep up the smaller pieces as you start cleaning up the water. The mess is cleaned but you are still on your knees with paper towel. You don’t want to stand up and let Fred see you cry so you are trying to stifle your tears.

Fred bends down beside you “It’s just a vase and some flowers, it’s not a big deal” he says tilting your chin up and wiping your tears. “I don’t care about the stupid flowers, I was trying to throw them out.”

“Why?” he questions.

“Date was that good” you mumble.

Fred pulls you in for a hug “want to talk about it?” he asks.

“No I want to put on pyjamas and forget tonight happened” you say before abruptly walking away to your room.

January 30, 2020

You and Fred haven’t discussed your date or that night since it happened. Today is the day of the family skate, you arrive dressed in jeans with a light sweater and bomber jacket, with a Pens toque Fred made you wear. Fred leads you to a dressing room handing you some skates “oh if I knew we were skating I could have brought my own. I played growing up a bit.”

“Oh I didn’t know, can’t wait to be dazzled by your skating abilities” he teases.

“I stopped playing the year my parents died. I started up again in college, but I’m not the best.”

“So I should carry Ollie.”

“Yes, 100%” you respond. After strapping his skates on he puts on the baby carrier sliding Oliver into the front of it. He looked so small pressed up against Fred’s chest in his snowsuit. “Oh he is so cute” you hear a wife say.

Fred grabs your hand and leads you to the ice “you ready to see mama’s skating abilities?” he questions touching Oliver’s cheek. You step on and begin skating, turning around to go backward too “Impressive” he says catching up to you. You do a few more laps before you begin to lose your balance when Fred sticks his hand under your elbow to support you. You skate a few more times before heading to get some water where you make casual conversation with Sid, Evgeni and Anna. “What are they talking about?” Evgeni questions. You all look to centre ice seeing Kathy talking to Freddie, in what appears to be an intense conversation. “Who knows” you shrug.

“That video Fred posted was adorable” Anna says.

“What video?” “The one with you and Oliver and he is laughing. It’s just the cutest. Baby laughs are the best.” You smile “yeah.” You aren’t surprised that Fred posted something of Oliver but you are surprised he posted with you in it.

Shortly after you all get off the ice and head to the team dinner. Fred places Oliver’s car seat on the floor and sits at the end of the bench so he can keep an eye on him. You sit beside him as Kathy and Sidney sit across from you. The four of you sit there drinking as the night wears on, your wine glass almost never emptying as Kathy keeps refilling it.

“So we’re going to watch Oliver for a night in the near future” Kathy says to Sidney.

“Oh really?” he questions

“Yeah give them a night off and get us some practice for when we have one” she quips and Sid chuckles lightly. You give Fred a light glance and he shrugs, but you know he knows what she is talking about. He leaves to change and feed Oliver, returning beside you but this time sitting closer to you. He puts his left hand on the bench behind you, gently grazing your ass as your breath gets caught in your throat. You sit there as you finally check your watch realizing its 9:30.

“Whoa, we should get going eh Fred” you say showing him the time.

“Yeah we better get the little guy to bed.”

 Dress for you date:

Next Chapter 

[halliewriteshockey]

OH! A PROMPT! canner/jars and forehead kisses (whether a 5+1 thing, or a feelings realisation thing, or something else entirely)(obvs based on him smooching goalies in the goalie train)

Five times Jared kisses Tristan + one time he kisses someone else

The first time Jared kisses him, it’s in the goalie line after a shutout, and it happens so fast Tristan’s not even sure what’s going on. Jared’s grinning so widely his eyes are crinkled almost closed, and he reaches up and cups Tristan’s helmet, pulling his head down.

Tristan bends obediently, not entirely sure what he’s doing, and Jared releases him a split second later, slaps him on the shoulder, and moves so Sid can take his place.

Okay, he thinks. Hockey players are weird. They tend to be emotionally stunted because they’re so focused on hockey instead of developing life skills like actual humans. 

Tristan accepts the rest of his team’s congratulations and puts the incident out of his head.

Until it happens again.

The next time, they’ve barely eked out a win, scraping through by the skin of their teeth and a desperation move by Tristan late in the third that only just kept the puck out. He thinks he might have pulled something stopping it, but the twinge fades when his team lines up to thank him.

Jared pulls him down and repeats whatever he’d done last time. Kissing his helmet? Tristan goes home and watches the game, taking notes on his performance while he ices his groin, and then watches the lineup.

Sure enough, Jared’s kissing him. Tristan checks the shutout game. Yup, kissed his helmet then too.

A little weird, Tristan thinks, and goes to bed.

He does it again after the third game too, smile wide like this is all totally normal.

The fourth time, the game hasn’t even started. Tristan’s warming up in the hall, surrounded by players. He’s in the zone, letting everything else fade as he focuses on getting into that perfect headspace where he doesn’t hear anything except the sound the puck makes when it streaks toward him.

He’s absolutely not expecting Jared to come out of the locker room and make a beeline straight for him. Tristan leans back to let him pass but Jared stops in front of him. He looks serious this time, blue-grey eyes determined, and he reaches up with one hand to pull Tristan down into the kiss. When he releases him, he pats the back of Tristan’s helmet and turns away without a word.

They lose. 

Tristan’s scattered, unable to focus no matter how he tries. The opposing team slots three in the first two periods, then another two in the last, and the goals Teddy and Jake score between them aren’t enough to make up the gap before the buzzer goes.

Murray starts the next game. He brings home a win with ease, grinning at the players as they line up after. Jared’s bouncing on his skates, ahead of Tristan in the line, and Tristan has a perfect view when Jared reaches up---a lot higher because Muzz is part giraffe---and plants a big, smacking kiss on his helmet.

Oh, Tristan thinks. He does it to everyone. It’s a goalie-specific thing, not a Tristan-specific thing. That’s... well, that’s okay then, isn’t it?

He starts the next game, and Jared doesn’t kiss him before it starts. Maybe that’s why they win, he decides. Everyone’s bright-eyed and happy, knocking their foreheads against Tristan’s helmet after, but Tristan’s not really paying attention, too focused on Jared’s place in line.

He doesn’t kiss him. Doesn’t even meet his eyes, the smile on his face hollow like he’s faking it, and he only slaps Tristan on the shoulder before turning away, leaving Tristan to stare after him.

It’s fine, he tells himself, and follows his team off the ice. 

And it is fine, mostly. They’re winning more than they lose, climbing the standings with dogged determination. Tristan’s able to force himself into focus again, and he doesn’t care that Jared doesn’t kiss him after wins anymore. He doesn’t. He especially doesn’t care that he still kisses Muzz after his wins.

He doesn’t care so aggressively that he glares at Jared when he approaches him after games, until Jared’s looking anywhere but at him and the congratulations he offers are nothing more than a nod before he turns to skate away. 

“Any chance you’re going to get past this on your own?” Sid asks one evening after the media’s gone.

“Get past what,” Tristan snaps, and immediately feels guilty for being rude to Sid, of all people, who only wants the best for everyone on his team. “Sorry,” he says more moderately. “Just been on edge, I guess.”

Sid examines him with dark eyes that see too much. “Maybe you should talk to him,” he suggests.

He definitely sees too much.

Tristan shoves his feet into his shoes. “Goodnight, Sid.”

He stalks for the garage without looking back. He’s almost to his car when he realizes someone’s waiting for him. He gives serious thought to hiding behind a pillar and calling a Lyft when he realizes it’s Jared, arms crossed over his chest and a thunderous scowl on his face.

He doesn’t, but it’s a near thing. 

Jared straightens when he sees him, hands dropping to his sides. “Um. Sid said I had to talk to you or I was benched.”

Goddamn meddling captains.

“Tell him we talked then,” Tristan says, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “Goodnight.”

“Yeah, that won’t fly.” Jared doesn’t sound any happier than Tristan feels. “You know Sid. He won’t let it go until whatever this is is fixed.”

“What is this?” Tristan snaps.

“I don’t know!” Jared retorts, matching his tone. “We were okay one day and then we weren’t and I... I fucked something up but I don’t know how, okay, but I’m trying here, can you just... work with me a bit?”

Tristan glares at him for a minute. To his credit, Jared doesn’t flinch. He just lifts his chin and waits.

“Get in the damn car,” Tristan growls, and Jared wastes no time scrambling for the passenger side.

Tristan doesn’t start the car once they’re inside. They sit quietly, watching the last few players heading for their cars. Finally, Jared stirs.

“Why did you kiss me?” Tristan asks abruptly.

Jared blinks. “I---what?”

“You started kissing my helmet after wins,” Tristan says. This is horrible. He wants very much to just disappear altogether and not have to talk about his feelings or whatever, but Jared’s twisted to look at him. “Then you stopped. Why?”

“Why did I, uh, kiss you, or why did I stop?”

“Yes,” Tristan says, exasperated. “It’s fucking with my head, so could you please just... explain and then get out of my car so I can go home?”

Jared shifts in his seat. He looks weirdly guilty. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” he mumbles, and Tristan’s bad mood gets worse somehow. “I just---I was happy we won. I wanted to show you how much I appreciated you. But then that time I kissed you before the game, we lost and I know you blamed me, so---”

“Wait, whoa, back up. I blamed you? For us losing?”

“Well yeah. Didn’t you?”

“No,” Tristan snaps. “I blame JJ for turning over the puck and Rudy for forgetting how to be a D-man when I needed him, and the rest of you for not playing a good enough game to make up for it. And I blame myself because I still should have been able to keep the pucks out anyway and I didn’t. What did you have to do with any of that?”

Jared is gaping at him. “But. I kissed you. And we lost.”

“Correlation does not equal causation. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Well, that’s why,” Jared says. “I thought... I thought you were mad at me.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” Tristan says. “Not until you started kissing Muzz but not me.”

Jared’s eyes widen. “Did you want---”

“Forget it,” Tristan snaps. “Get out of my car.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Jared says, lifting his chin again. “Explain what you meant and then I’ll go, how’s that?”

Tristan slumps in his seat and glares out the windshield. 

“Were you jealous?” Jared asks.

Tristan glares harder at nothing.

“Oh my god,” Jared breathes. He sounds delighted. Tristan sneaks a look. Yup, he’s grinning. “Jars, you could have said. Why didn’t you just say?”

“Why are you still here?” Tristan asks, making his voice as forbidding as possible, but if anything, Jared’s grin just widens.

“You like me,” he says.

“Right now, there are Flyers I like more than you,” Tristan growls.

Jared laughs. He actually laughs, and Tristan reconsiders the viability of making a run for it.

It’s already too late. Jared is leaning over the armrest, reaching out to cup Tristan’s chin in his hand and turn his face. Tristan decides it would be childish to resist, so he allows it. Jared’s only a few inches away, a smile dancing in his eyes when Tristan meets his gaze.

“You don’t have to be jealous,” Jared says, and a shiver runs down Tristan’s spine. “Don’t you know you’re the only one I want to kiss?”

“Hearing a lot of big talk,” Tristan retorts. “Maybe you should put your money where your---mmph!” 

Jared’s mouth is warm and soft, and all rational thought flees Tristan’s brain. All he can do is hold on as Jared deepens the kiss, cupping Tristan’s face in one hand as he licks into his mouth.

They’re both breathing hard when Jared pulls away. He’s smiling as he thumbs Tristan’s chin.

“I do have a confession to make,” he murmurs, and Tristan’s never heard him sound like this, his voice all breathy and soft. 

He manages to quirk an eyebrow.

“What the hell is correlation does not equal... whatever that other word was?”

“Causation,” Tristan says, fighting the laughter. “Read a book sometime.” And he pulls him back into another kiss, feeling better than he has in weeks as Jared laughs against his mouth and kisses him back.

~~~

Inspired by Jared actually doing this to Tristan after a win

[techcrunchappcom]

New Post has been published on https://techcrunchapp.com/oak-glen-girls-capture-fourth-straight-ovac-title-news-sports-jobs/

Oak Glen girls capture fourth straight OVAC title | News, Sports, Jobs

The Oak Glen girls soccer team celebrates winning the OVAC Class 4A tournament championship over St. Clairsville on Saturday. -Contributed

ST. CLAIRSVILLE — It’s tough to win one championship. It’s even tougher trying to defend that title. When a team has won three straight crowns, it has a bullseye on its back while seeking a fourth.

However, that was no problem for Oak Glen (8-2).

Saturday afternoon at sun-splashed Red Devil Stadium, the No. 2 seeds made it back-to-back-to-back-to-back OVAC Class 4A soccer tournament titles when they upset top-seeded St. Clairsville, 5-1. It marked the third time in the four years — and second straight — that the Red Devils (8-2-1) found themselves on the short end in the title tilt. Oak Glen defeated Beaver Local two years ago on penalty kicks.

Head coach Ryan Wells stopped short of referring to his program as a dynasty.

“That’s not for us to say,” he said while sporting a slight smile from behind his COVID-19 mask. “We always talk about consistency and being relevant every year in the OVACs and the West Virginia state tournament. I think because of the senior leadership we’ve had since my first year here, we’ve been able to do that. You don’t want to fluctuate up and down. You want to be consistent every year. You want to be the dominant team with the target on your back every year. I tell the girls that is a great spot to be in and they’ve shouldered it really well when you gave everyone gunning for you.”

Back-to-back-to-back-to-back sounds pretty good, though.

“You like to win them all, and this senior class has won four in a row. So, from their freshmen year on, they’ve done what it takes,” Wells said.. “We’ve talked about that. They see this as another stepping stone to the state (W.Va. Class AA tournament). We prepare a certain way for OVACs, and then we kind of flip a switch and get ready for regional and the state.

“These girls are a different kind of team. They are not stat-driven at all. The one stat that we do talk about is the scoreboard. We just keep on plugging away … doing the little things. It’s all the small things that led to this win. It was nothing big.”

It didn’t take long for the focused Golden Bears to strike.

Senior standout Reese Enochs found the net in the first minute (29 seconds in). The goal would be the first of her hat trick.

Chasing the ball as it rolled into the St. Clairsville box, Enochs collected the it after it was misplayed and banged it into an empty net from down deep in the right wing.

“You can’t put yourself in a hole like that against a team like Oak Glen,” St. Clairsville head coach Wes Stoner said. “They are well-coached and have skill and speed everywhere. I guess we just weren’t ready to play in the first 30 seconds. Nothing against that goal, but we should have never let that one in. The other four were legitimate.”

Enochs made it 2-0 in the fifth minute when she lofted the ball towards the net from just outside the top of the box. It sailed just under the crossbar and over the outstretched fingers of leaping St. Clairsville goalkeeper Jaeda Nowak.

Brooklyn Watts, who recorded a trio of assists, sent a shot from deep on the right wing that Nowak batted away. The rebound hit the post to Nowak’s left and caromed to the right foot of Enochs, who did the rest for her 134th career net-finder.

“She’s a stud. She’s just a stud,” Wells said. “Reese has even started to focus on other aspects of the game. The offensive part of her game comes naturally, she is a scorer and she’s going to be a scorer in college. She’s the type of player that is going to be able to contribute at the collegiate level right away.

“She’s a quiet leader, but the way she finishes on a consistent basis is amazing. But, her defense has gotten better and her passing has gotten a lot better. She’s just a tremendous all-around player.”

Watts sent a beautiful cross to Brooklyn Loveland late in the 19th minute, and Loveland sent it past a diving Nowak with her right foot for a 4-0 reading.

St. Clairsville avoided being shutout when freshman Delaney Florence knocked home a rebound after Oak Glen goalkeeper Alexus Greenlief denied Emily Thompson’s shot.

Greenlief finished with five saves, while Nowak was called upon to make 11.

Despite the loss, the season is far from over for the the Red Devils.

“There’s something to be said about even making it to this game,” Stoner said. “Nothing against anyone else, and losing stinks, but just being in this championship game means a lot, and we’ve got a lot of soccer left to play.”

Already playing with senior standout Macy Malin, who is out for the season after knee surgery, the Red Devils got a little more banged up Saturday, as Megan Malin was an early exit. Alyssa Bodkin and Nowak also were shaken up but later returned.

“We’ve got too many girls banged up right now. We have several ankles and one with a rib injury,” Stoner said. “We already had a couple of girls nursing bangs and bruises, but not we got a few more.”

St. Clairsville will host Weir High Monday at 6 p.m. A special ceremony is planned, according to Stoner.

GAME NOTE

• A moment of silence was held prior to each of the three games Saturday at Red Devil Stadium for Weir sophomore Madison Crowe, who was tragically killed on Thursday with her mother.

“We have some younger girls that played travel ball with Madison,” Wells said. “We played with some heavy hearts Thursday night, even some tears. We had some girls show up really upset. We know the Weirton community is strong … Hancock County strong with one another. We’ll get through it.”

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[un-sweetenedtea]

Worth It

who: Tsukishima x  Fem! Reader

warnings: fluff, angst, volleyball terms will be how they are in the anime, mild swearing, and parental problems.

features: Hinata, Kageyama, Asahi, Coach Ukai, Sensei Takeda, Hajime Iwaizumi, and Tooru Oikawa

A first-year, starter libero for the girls’ volleyball team at Karasuno. That’s who you were.  Today, though, you were a temporary manager for the boys’ team for three days. 

“Hinata, damn it!” Kageyama cursed as he watched the ball drop right in front of Hinata. 

“I couldn’t help it, Kageyama! It was the highest I’ve jumped I swear! It was all like WHOOSH!” Hinata exclaimed, expressing the height of his jump through the motions on his hands.

“Alright, you two, back at it again, minus tempo, Hinata,” Coach Ukai stated, giving them a bored look. 

You heard a snicker from beside you. 

“Tsukishima, on the court now! y/n, help Tsukishima block,” Coach Ukai demanded, whooshing you both on court with a sweep of his hand. “You too, Asahi.” 

You stood a bit wary beside the two starting players. You were a mere 5′2 standing between two 6′1 front-row players. Being a libero wasn’t a position that demanded height, but demanded more of skills. You shook off the nerves as you always do and focused in on getting a shutout on Hinata. You all watched as Hinata jumped, preparing for a spike. 

You jumped along with the other blockers and felt a hard push against your side. You braced yourself to be thrown against the floor, but instead feeling something warm under you instead. It didn't take long for the buttons to click, you turned and saw that Tsukishima broke your fall. You hurried to get off of him, feeling a soreness in your wrist. 

“y/n, I am so sorry, I thought I could block Hinata’s dominate hand when I felt I was too far off,” Asahi apologized, bowing down, and you gave a short nod that showed your appreciation for the apology. 

“Tsukishima, are you okay? Thank you for breaking my fall, I’m sorry you had to,” You apologized, leaning over his body. 

You surveyed his body for marks, but you couldn't help yourself to admire for a small moment at the end of his shirt that barely revealed a hint of abs underneath. You bit your lip, trying to stop your blush. You grabbed his wrist to check for a pulse, which thankful had one, and Asahi shoved an ice bag into your hand. You got a cold rag and laid it on Tsukishima’s head, and held the ice bag in your hand. 

“Okay let’s give him some space,” Coach Ukai said, redirecting the surrounding team members. 

Tsukishima groaned and slowly opened his eyes. His hands instantly went to his side, wincing when he applied pressure. You pressed the ice bag on his side, wincing with every groan Tsukishima let out. 

“You’re one heavy son of a bitch, y/n,” Tsukishima teased, letting a small smile slip through his lips. 

“Oh great, you’re awake, Tsukishima. y/n, get him check out at the nurse’s office,” Coach Ukai said, propping up Tsukishima to put all his weight on me. 

You nodded and hobbled off with a heavy Tsukishima. You internally winced with every groan Tsukishima gave with every step. His hand started to slip off you shoulder, you intertwined them to stop it from slipping off. You couldn’t help, but blush at the sight of holding hands with the big salty beanpole. 

Stop, y/n, get your head out of the gutter. 

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

It was the big day. The first day of Inter-High prelims. Your team didn’t play until the second day and the boys’ team needed a manager. It was the perfect chance to get hours for college and see your big brother. Hinata had talked your ear off the entire bus ride, but now he was itching to get off the bus. 

You looked through your bag to find your phone, but you couldn’t find it. You haphazardly searched through your bag as the team went on inside without you. You finally found it stuck between the seat, after finding it, you ran out of the bus. You tucked your phone inside your bag for safe and sound, but you ran into someone. Almost familiar. 

“I’m sorry-” You began, looking up. 

“y/n?” He asked, staring at you in confusion. 

“Onii~san?” You asked, peering back into your big brother’s eyes.

“I missed you!” He exclaimed, picking you up into his strong arms. 

“I missed you too, Hajime!” You happily exclaimed, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

Tsukishima’s POV

I turned the corner after going to the bathroom to check up Hinata. Damn him and his weak stomach. I saw y/n wrapping her arms against Iwaizumi, the ace of Aoba Johsai. I swallowed down the lump of bitterness in my throat. Of course a girl like her would have somebody like Iwaizumi by her side. 

Damn feelings and Aoba Johsai. 

y/n’s POV

“Where’s your team, y/n?” Hajime asked, looking around the lobby. 

“I came her as a temporary manager for the boys’ Karasuno team,” you replied, smiling up at your brother. 

“When does your match start? Me and Oikawa will watch,” Hajime asked, giving you a knuckle sandwich. 

“Tomorrow, first thing. I have to go, but we should meet up after?” You asked, pulling yourself away. 

“Can’t, Coach Mizoguchi has a meeting after this,” Hajime said sadly, waving you goodbye. 

You nod and make your way to the gym. It was a long match, but Karasuno came on top after taking the two sets. Your heart swelled the happiness as you watched Tsukishima blocked every spike, looking like the swelling bruise of you falling on him was gone as so the one of your wrist. When you shot him a thumbs up, he looks away. Breaking your heart with every glare. You looked away in embarrassment, swallowing your shame. 

What did I do to Tsukishima?

After the game, you spot Hajime talking with your parents. You smiled a big smile and ran towards your family. 

“Mom! Dad!” You exclaimed, opening your arms wide. 

“HI, sweetie! We came to watch Hajime’s great match today!” Mom said with pride, giving Hajime a big hug. 

A feeling of jealousy swirled inside your stomach, watching Hajime get all the praise you worked so hard for.

“Will you watch my game?” You asked, swallowing the fear of jealousy and replacing it with excitement.

“Darling, we wouldn’t make it in time, but you can watch Hajime’s game with us tomorrow,” Dad offered, patting your head. 

That feeling swirled more, rising inside of you. 

“It’s fine,” You smiled bitterly, swallowing the jealousy once more. 

“I’ll go as your mommy and daddy instead, y/n,” a proud voice called from behind Hajime. 

“Right, me and Sh- Oikawa will go,” Hajime said, patting Tooru’s back, wary of your parents beaming beside you. 

“We will play the role of mommy and daddy, only if I get to play Daddy,” Tooru said, smiling down at me. 

“We have to go, but we love you. See you at the game tomorrow!” your parents called out, leaving the gym, sending a weirded out glance towards Tooru. 

You watched longingly as their backs disappeared in the crowd. Tooru wrapped his arm around me and spoke inspiring words of my match. You swallowed the bitterness and smiled at Hajime. 

“Iwa~chan, will you us out to eat ice cream tomorrow?” Tooru asked, placing his head on top of mine. 

“No, Shittykawa, you’ll get fat,” Hajime stated, rolling his eyes, and getting Tooru off of me. 

“Woah! y/n, how do you know Iwaizumi and Oikawa of Aoba Johsai?” Hinata exclaimed, his eyes filled with stars. 

“Oh, I forgot, guys, this is my brother Hajime Iwaizumi, and Oikawa,” You said, pointing to them. 

“If it isn’t the flightless crows,” Tooru said, giving them a shit-eating grin. 

“That’s enough, Shittykawa, we have to go,” Hajime demanded, pulling Tooru away. 

“Bye, Onii~san!” You exclaimed, waving them both goodbye. 

“y/n, you could’ve mentioned your brother was Iwaizumi,” Kageyama said, giving me a glare. 

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” You mumbled, looking down at your shoes. 

“Alright, meeting back at the school! No match after today’s,” Coach Ukai said, clapping his hands. 

You helped the team clean things up for the next team. You strolled out of the the gym, the jealousy weighing heavy on your heart. Hinata was too tired to talk to you about his plays. The team all wore tired faces, Suga looking like he was about to nod off. But, Tsukishima offered to walk with you. 

“I’m sorry for ignoring you on court,” Tsukishima started, giving you a sorry look.

“It’s fine, but why did you do it though?” You asked, looking up in his golden eyes.

He looked away, his cheeks tinting a pink. 

“I thought Iwaizumi was your -uhm- boyfriend,” Tsukishima apologized, putting his hand on my shoulder. 

“Ew, no,” you laughed, looking at Tsukishima’s sorrowed face. “I wouldn't even date Oikawa, he’s like another brother to me.”

Tsukishima’s eyes lit up, the fog in his eyes dispersing. 

“I wish I was him though, Hajime, not Oikawa,” You sighed, glancing away, trying to control your tears as you sat on the bus next to Tsukishima. 

“My brother goes to Aoba Johsai because we were both accepted to go, but only one of us could go. We didn’t want to decide so my parents did for us,” you said, smiling bitterly. “Hajime is their golden child and I'm never going to be out of his shadows. That’s why I didn't tell you I was his sister, I was too embarrassed. Embarrassed to be the unwanted child.”

You looked up at Tsukishima through your tears, looking around at everyone else sleeping, and making sure nobody heard your confession. Tsukishima gave you a smile and offered his hand to hold, which you happily took. 

“Hell, my parents don't even want to go to my match. Everything I do, I work harder than Hajime ten times to get praised by my parents. Anything he does, he’s praised for it! Aoba Johsai was too far away to continue to make the travel between home and their so he stayed in the dorms there, he hasn't even come home in months! Too busy with practices, I guess,” you said angrily, tears flowing. “I just don’t feel like I’m worth their time.”

“y/n, you are so worth it,” Tsukishima said with passion, giving me a kiss that was filled with emotions that were raging between the both of us. 

[bongaboi]

Arizona State: 2019 Sun Bowl Champions

EL PASO — In a scene imagined by few if any before it actually happened and almost assuredly never preceded by anything quite like it, Arizona State players poured a cooler of Kellogg's Frosted Flakes on the head of their coach in celebration on Tuesday.

It was not the traditional Gatorade bath that invariably comes with the biggest of wins. There will be no lighting of victory cigars. There may be some champagne toasts in the aftermath but those will primarily be to ring in the New Year and only more obliquely related to the outcome of their football game played several hours earlier.

But, still, the Sun Devils ended their 2019 season the right way and so they bathed their second-year head coach Herm Edwards in breakfast cereal and he certainly didn't mind it.

"First time I've ever got a bucket full of Frosted Flakes, that's new," Edwards said. "That helps. That's not cold. All I needed was some milk and I would have been fine."

In the play-calling debut of its new defensive coordinator Tony White, ASU forced six turnovers — more than in any game since October of 2009 against Washington State — and perhaps needed every one in its 20-14 win over Florida State in the Tony the Tiger Sun Bowl in front of 42,412 fans in the 86th playing of the game. The win concluded ASU's season at 8-5 overall, better than their initial 7-6 season under Edwards. Florida State finished its season at 6-7 overall.

Though they have aspirations for more extravagant celebrations in the future, the Sun Devils are content with where they are currently at two years into the Edwards-experiment, which was initially widely panned but now has taken on an unmistakable aura of emerging success.

"It shows the potential for our defense and how strong we're going to become," freshman safety Willie Harts said after collecting one of four ASU interceptions on the afternoon. "We're very young and still experienced and we're going to learn so much over the years."

With both teams missing key players due to early-NFL declarations and undertaking significant staffing changes including a new coordinator on both sides of the ball for the Sun Devils, there was a lot of sloppy, forgettable play on Tuesday. But also, some very memorable moments.

The Sun Devils held a halftime 9-0 lead and appeared to have the Seminoles offense in a vice grip before a five-minute stretch late in the third quarter that flipped the game upside down.

With multiple deep reserves on the field for ASU's defense due to the absence of starting redshirt freshman safety Cameron Phillips and injuries to junior cornerbacks Chase Lucas and Jack Jones, Florida State marched 91 yards in 11 plays including a fourth-and-3 conversion to score its first points at 3:47 of the third quarter and make it a suddenly close 9-7 ASU edge.

After redshirt sophomore punter Michael Turk — excellent in the game with eight punts for a 45.8 yard average with four inside the 20 — ended ASU's third straight series of the quarter with a punt on its next possession, the Seminoles immediately struck again to take a 14-9 lead. With Lucas and Jones watching from the sidelines, sophomore cornerback Timarcus Davis gave up a 91-yard touchdown strike to sophomore wide receiver Tamorrion Terry, a one-play scoring drive.

It didn't dent ASU's confidence whatsoever. On their next possession, the Sun Devils marched 59 yards on 12 plays in a drive that included a highlight-reel 27-yard scramble by freshman quarterback Jayden Daniels on third-and-10 and ended with sophomore kicker Cristian Zendejas making his fourth field goal of the day to tie a Sun Bowl record and cut his team's deficit to 14-12. But it was the Sun Devils' fourth red zone trip and they only had 12 points to show for it and still trailed.

That's when Harts sprung into action on a miscommunication between Florida State sophomore quarterback James Blackman and a receiver that placed a ball directly in the arms of the safety who started in place of Phillips. With a clear path to the end zone, Harts pushed ASU's lead to 20-14 after a successful 2-point try. The interception was Blackman's third of four on the day, with the Sun Devils needing two more turnovers later in the fourth quarter to salt the game away.

On Florida State's next drive, sophomore ASU linebacker Darien Butler made a tackle-for-loss on a fourth-and-2 get his team the ball back. Blackman then threw his fourth interception of the day to ASU senior linebacker Khaylan Kearse-Thomas on Florida State's next drive. And even with all of that, the Seminoles had one more chance in the game's final two minutes when Terry lost a fumble to ASU forced by sophomore linebacker Merlin Robertson and recovered by sophomore linebacker Tyler Johnson.

"Can't say enough about our kicker and our defense," Edwards said. "We get six turnovers we should probably win a game. That being said, these guys kept fighting back for us. They really did. I'm happy for our seniors. To end the season with a bowl victory for them is very important. We hit a slump during the season where we had lost four in a row. I reminded the players, when you get tired of losing, you're going to win again. We've won three in a row now. This is a good way to set the 2020 season off for us, with a bowl game (win). That's very important to us."

Kearse-Thomas, who early in the game was given a reprieve when a hit on Blackman was called targeting on the field but overturned on review, and Williams excelled in their final ASU outing. Kearse-Thomas had a team-high six solo tackles and nine total in addition to his interception and a quarterback hurry. Williams concluded his season without giving up a touchdown pass in coverage and was excellent throughout a game in which ASU's pass defense yielded just 155 yards excluding the 91-yard touchdown.

"I can't say enough about Khaylan and Kobe," Edwards said. "These guys are seniors. I take my hat off to them. When you get a coaching change and you put in your defense, that's hard. It's hard on seniors. It really is. They're looking at a new staff, saying, 'you're playing all these young guys, what about me?' Without these two guys we're not the defense we were this year.

"I'm glad for these guys because of what they've meant to me personally. I lean on them. They were always there, always energetic. They were the keys to the defense to be quite honest."

The Sun Devils won despite being out-gained in total offensive yards 470 to 282 because their defense held up well other than the flagging late third-quarter stretch and Blackman committing five turnovers on his own out of the six total by the Seminoles. Robertson had perhaps his best game of the season and forced both of Florida State's lost fumbles and recovered one of them on his own. Sophomore safety Aashari Crosswell and junior safety Evan Fields each had a first-half interception to contribute to the shutout pitched by ASU before intermission, the latter doing so after promising his mom he would get one for her on her birthday.

While Daniels — sacked three times on the day and under duress throughout — received the game's MVP honors for the Sun Devils despite a low-percentage 12 of 28 passing performance for just 195 yards in part because he led the team in rushing with 36 yards on 12 carries, it was the team's defensive playmaking that took center stage in the absence of senior receiver Brandon Aiyuk and junior running back Eno Benjamin.

Moreover, it was White's successful first attempt at calling plays after being promoted from cornerbacks coach to defensive coordinator, which resonated with Edwards and ASU players in the game's aftermath, particularly as it came in White's hometown in front of a large group of family and friends.

"One hundred tickets," Edwards said. "'One hundred tickets Tony White.' He has a fan base now. He grew up here. It was fun, we visited his brother's high school, worked out over there when we got here Thursday. He was excited. I'm happy for him. Gets to take over as the coordinator. I thought he did a great job. Had a shutout going in the first half."

Added Kearse-Thomas: "He got us prepared really well. I mean, we had all month to really prepare. We were very detailed in what we were doing and then he got the play call in for us and told us to go. [Linebackers coach Antonio Pierce] told us before the game, 'This could be a stat game if you want it to be.'"

Stats make players happy and especially so when it includes winning football games and having fun doing it. Under the team's previous coaching staff, that was not the case for some Sun Devils who now believe they are passing a torch to the next generation with a lot of fuel for what they see as an even brighter future.

"It's changed tremendously (under Edwards)," Kearse-Thomas said. "It's like (the movie) Coming to America. "Coming from a dictatorship ... just the freedom. Coach Herm, he allows us to be us. A couple years back we couldn't do that. It played a role in the success with ASU. I feel like him letting the kids be kids is a big step for the program."

[burning-up-ao3]

From the Point  11 15 2019

The Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Penguins of the American Hockey League have been short-handed this season, too. All those injuries at the NHL level meant that they had to fork over three of their best players for a little while. Plus, they've had a bunch of bumps and bruises, too. After a so-so start in their first season under coach Mike Vellucci, the Baby Penguins are on a roll. They've won four of their last five games, allowing a total of five goals, to climb into third place in their division.  They host the Springfield Thunderbirds, the second-place squad, at Mohegan Sun Arena on Friday night. Eight of their next 10 games at at home. Thursday, we checked in with Vellucci, whose fascinating backstory includes surviving a car accident with former teammate Al Iafrate, to see how things are going down on the farm. He had some interesting things to say about Casey DeSmith, the late addition who has 11 goals in 15 games and three notable prospects who have been hit by injuries or illness. Here's a transcript of our conversation, which has been lightly edited for clarity and brevity. Post-Gazette: What are some of the challenges your team has faced early in the season and what has helped you get on a roll lately? Mike Vellucci: It was difficult. We had 11 guys that we expected in our lineup that weren't. So we were playing guys that are in Wheeling now and playing a lot of rookies that had never played a pro game and were learning what it takes to be a pro and also understanding what my expectations are for them and the way we want to play. So it was just a lot of teaching, growing pains, finding ways to win. I just feel that structurally the last six, seven games were getting to where we need to be. PG: What was it like seeing Sam Lafferty, Adam Johnson and Joseph Blandisi come up to the NHL and make the impact that they did? We know that's what you're preparing guys to do. And what kind of message does that send to your players when they see that happen? MV: As a coach, you're thinking, 'I hope they're doing what I told them to do so they don't make mistakes.' And then it's such a great feeling when you watch them play so well and do the right things. As for what the other players see, if they're doing it right down here and do it right up there, then they could end up staying and doing well. That means don't take the shortcut. Make sure you're doing everything the right way. I think it's very helpful as an organization to see that. And, as a coach, I'd use that as motivation for the guys that aren't there yet. PG: And when someone has success at the NHL level and comes back to the AHL, like Lafferty, can you sense a different confidence about them? And how much of a boost did that give your team when those three call-ups were returned to Wilkes-Barre/Scranton? MV: Yeah, you play with confidence. My job is to tell them to not take any shortcuts. Do what you would do in the NHL. Don't make a change down here and think that you need to cheat for offense. If you're not going to do it up top, why would you do it here? And then continue to play with speed and passion and those things. It was good they came back. The only difference for them was that they went from eight or 10 minutes to 22 minutes of ice time. PG: We talked to Casey DeSmith a couple of weeks ago. He admitted that he was frustrated and, frankly, hurt by being put on waivers and sent down to the AHL club. How do you think he's responded to that and how critical has he been for your team? It seems like he has found his game down there recently with shutouts in back-to-back games. MV: Yes, of course he was hurt and disappointed and all those emotions, which is understandable. I talked to him when he first got down here and I pulled him aside maybe 10 days ago and just said that he can't let this affect him. He can't control that he was sent down, whether it was because of money or the cap situation or whatever it may be. The only thing he can control is how well he plays and how he tries to get better every day. So I think from that point on he's been preparing to be the best he can and not worrying about things he can't control. I think he's settled in nice. And from a team standpoint, we've settled in with our structure to limit the chances against him. And when we have broken down, he's been there to bail us out. Photo via Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Penguins PG: Tell us about Stefan Noesen. Your team signed him just before the season started and it seems like every time we check Twitter he has just scored another goal. Tell me about him as a player and a potential prospect, because he seemingly came out of nowhere. MV: He came out of nowhere for you, but not for me. I coached him in juniors [with Plymouth of the Ontario Hockey League]. So I know him very well. He was a first-round NHL pick [by Ottawa in 2011] and he had some tough injuries early in his pro career. He missed a lot of time. He played the last couple of years in the NHL  and has been a very good player there. I know him. He's got great hands. His hockey sense is off the charts. He's competitive and he hates to lose. It's been a great signing for us. He's been a huge part of all of our wins, especially early on when scoring goals was difficult for us as a team. PG: How has Emil Larmi's adjustment to North American pro hockey been going? MV: Early on, he was really good, and then he had that freak, weird injury that gave us all a little scare there. He's finally gotten cleared and we're just trying to get him back into game shape so he can play. I like him a lot. I think he's a very good prospect for the organization, and he's a great person. PG: Speaking of injuries, two of the organization's better prospects, Kasper Bjorkqvist and Pierre-Olivier Joseph, have been out. Bjorkqvist had knee surgery a couple of weeks ago and is out for six months and Joseph is dealing with mononucleosis. How disappointing is it that you haven't been able to get a longer look at those two and help them develop? MV: We had all those injuries up top [in the NHL] and Joseph gets mono and Bjorkqvist goes out for six months. Go on down the list. Thomas DiPauli was hurt. It was crazy. It's difficult. It stunts their growth really. It's just going to take more time. P.O.'s getting close. He lost a lot of weight and mono really kicks your butt. So we're trying to get him back in shape and hopefully he gets cleared here in the next 10 days. Bjorkqvist, I mean, that's a big blow. One good thing is that he's in great shape and will continue to be. But he was really making some strides in his game. So it's very disappointing to see that he's out that long. PG: Last question – What's the next step for your team? You said they've really bought in structurally and you're getting some guys back in the lineup. What's the next step for your players? What do you want to see from them in the next month or so? MV: Continue to get better in all areas. But we've improved in everything we set out to improve in. We've been exiting our zone way better. That's something we worked on the last two weeks. Our forecheck is getting better. Our special teams, our power play's been really good but our penalty kill struggled early on. That was more from everybody being new to it but it's been oh-for-20 maybe in the last number of games. Just continue to get better as a team and individuals, and then being at home for the next little bit will definitely help. WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE MISSED 1. Sidney Crosby is expected to be out six weeks after undergoing sports hernia surgery. 2. Are all these injuries simply bad luck or is there something more to it? Note that Crosby, Kris Letang and Patric Hornqvist are all highly paid core players in their thirties. 3. Jim Rutherford goes into the Hockey Hall of Fame on Monday. He'll be sure to thank a lot of folks from Windsor, where he spent four formative years as a young hockey exec. 4. What's it like to bodycheck a buddy? Bryan Rust knows a little something about that. 5. Olli Maatta was back this weekend and had a lot of nice things to say about Pittsburgh. THREE STARS OF THE PAST WEEK 3. Evgeni Malkin. OK, so he was at least partially responsible for the Rangers' game-winning goal in overtime Monday. But he has been really good otherwise. He had a pair of assists in the comeback win against the Blackhawks and another Monday. That was a continuation of what he did in the previous week. The Penguins need Malkin to keep this going. 2. Jared McCann. McCann scored the shootout winner against the Blackhawks and got the team's first power play goal in a month in the loss to the Rangers. Going back to last week, McCann has two goals and four assists in his last four games with a plus-6 rating. 1. Matt Murray. He stopped 29 of 31 shots against Chicago and kept hope alive in New York after they got off to shaky start. They've lost in regulation in only four of his 15 starts. PENGUINS STAT LEADERS Goals: 8, Guentzel Assists: 12, Crosby Points: 17, Crosby +/-: +12, McCann PIMs: 17, Blueger Save %: .929, Jarry Wins: 9, Murray IT’S A GREAT WEEK FOR HOCKEY Friday @ 7 p.m.: Penguins at Devils. Three days after getting their first look at Rangers rookie Kaapo Kakko, which wasn't pretty, the Penguins have to chase after Jack Hughes for the first time. The speedy Devils center, picked first overall ahead of Kakko in June, has nine points in 17 games. Not bad. Hughes, a native of Florida, also has a minus-7 rating. Not good. Saturday @ 7 p.m.: Penguins vs. Maple Leafs. No Crosby for the Penguins and no Mitch Marner for the Leafs. The Leafs still have a few more big names, including American-born center Auston Matthews, but so far they have been pretty disappointing. With this being the second half of a back-to-back, Tristan Jarry could get his first start since Oct. 23. Tuesday @ 7 p.m.: Penguins vs. Islanders. The Penguins, as you probably recall, got a small measure of revenge last week when they rallied from three goals down to beat the Islanders in Brooklyn. The Islanders since then have started another streak and are one of four teams that entered Thursday with a better goal differential than the Penguins, who are plus-13. Thursday @ 7 p.m.: Penguins at Islanders. Jeez. These guys again? The Penguins and the Islanders play for the third time in 15 days.  They won't meet again until March 15. STAT OF THE WEEK 4 – consecutive games in which the Penguins have fallen behind by two or more goals. Improbably, they won two of them and lost Monday's game in Manhattan in OT, earning a point. Opponents have scored first in 11 of the past 13 games, in part because the Penguins have just eight first-period goals. They should probably score some of those. QUOTE OF THE WEEK "I will be fire." – Evgeni Malkin, inspired by a fire alarm, on stepping up with Crosby out. EXITING THE ZONE I'll use this space to share quick Penguins tidbits, hot takes and random thoughts on hockey and life. ... Losing Crosby stings but it would hurt a lot, lot more had they not gotten off to a good start despite all their other injuries. They shouldn't fall too far behind the pack with a record like 8-11-4 in his absence. ... Now would be a great time for Nick Bjugstad to produce. I like Bjugstad as a player and he's one heck of a dude. But the points haven't been there for his linemates and him since arriving in February. ... Looks like Evgeni Malkin and Jake Guentzel will skate together against the Devils. Eager to see if that union works. Not sure if their games mesh. ... Wrote about this Monday and it still holds true today. Jack Johnson has been pretty decent so far this season. Heck, even advanced stats back that up. Playing a lot with John Marino helped. But let's give credit where it's due. ... You should really read this story my partner, Mike DeFabo, wrote about a homeless veteran who was looking for a place to sleep outside PPG Paints Arena while the Pens recognized Veterans Day inside. Sobering stuff. subscribe here: https://my.post-gazette.com/newsletters/?utm_source=pg.com&utm_medium=link&utm_campaign=newsletter-subscribe&utm_content=navbar

[futuredrmedic]

“Life is a team sport”

I never learned how to lose. Not that I didn’t face adversity or struggles, I just didn’t know how to lose. I was a skilled goalie from day 1, in hockey and soccer, making use of my innate ability to always be in the way. I was a bad team specialist. I loved playing for bad teams and knowing that more often than not I was the reason behind the win. Until I wasn’t.

I went four seasons straight without allowing a goal in soccer, when I finally allowed one I didn’t know how to handle it and whacked my own head against the goal post in frustration. If I remember correctly we didn’t even lose, I just got beat for the first time. Hating myself unless I was perfect became an unhealthy pattern for me. It continued with hockey, I picked it up a little later but I was a natural talent with the potential to really do something with it. I played for a college coach who told me (as a senior in college) if he’d seen me a few years sooner I would’ve had a full ride. He didn’t mean to break me with that comment, he meant it as an encouragement but boy did it throw me. My life had gone totally of course when my parents decided to move to Central America and home school us and this was just another thing I missed.

In 2015 I got into one medical school, a DO school in the south, and for a lot of reasons I decided I needed to wait a little bit (some day I’ll get around to writing that up) but one of the factors (not a huge one but a factor) was hockey. A new women’s pro league was starting, the current (no longer existing) league had openings, and I just might have a chance to play pro. I moved to New England, I started an expensive grad program that I was unfortunately unable to finish due to finances and some personal shit related to an abusive relationship. I didn’t make the team. I was among the top few at the tryouts in performance and I was confident, but I didn’t have college play for them to look at, my high level performance at tryouts could’ve been a fluke and they weren’t willing to take the risk (for what it’s worth I don’t think they won another game after that- not that I could’ve changed it, I’m just smug about it)

I wound up playing with a D (LOW) level team because the season had already started and all the high level teams were full. I was rehabbing an old shoulder injury that was acting up and I was MISERABLE. I had a losing streak of like 10 games. I was allowing horrible goals (fwiw d level shots are flukey and I still allow weird goals when I skate with d teams). My abusive girlfriend told me it looked like it was the right level for me. I had just been cut from a professional team and she was telling me this was where I belonged. I continued to sink.

I never learned to lose. I was an excellent player, I was talented, usually the best on a team. But I wasn’t any kind of team mate. I’d slam my stick when I’d get scored on. One time I threw my mask AFTER A WIN because I wasn’t happy with the game. I was miserable, I was a bad teammate, I hated the game and I hated my life.

I got back on an ambulance, I’d been an emt for 6(ish) years in New Jersey before moving here, I’d only done 911 there, doing transports was new and honestly kind of boring, but it started to bring me back to myself, my personality started to resemble what it had been, and everything started to fall into place. I decided to go to paramedic school, being a doc was still my end game but I loved ems and I wanted to do more, learn more, be better. One of the girls I had been playing hockey with invited me to play a tournament with her and a bunch of the people I’d played with the season before (they were largely not happy about it). I never saw the abusive ex gf again after I left for that tournament.

That tournament was the start of everything changing and staying that way. We won the first game 4-0. As a team. They hustled their asses off to help me keep my shutout. Years ago it would’ve felt like “mine” but this was “ours”. That night one of my team mates sat me down and told me she used to hate me and hadn’t wanted me there at all. She played defense and always thought I was slamming my stick because I was mad at her, I wasn’t, I was mad at myself but I also resolved to stop doing that.

We were a rag tag group, short a few skaters. The next morning, all hungover, we beat a team that was expected to steam roll us, we lost game 3 but went to the finals. In the finals we lost 2-3 to the third team we had played. The game winning goal was one I should’ve had. We lost. It was my fault. And we danced. The whole team danced on the blue line in our silver medals and to this day that’s one of the biggest wins of my life. It was the day I changed forever

I’m still a bad team specialist. That following season I was brought in to play (along with my defenseman then girlfriend, now wife) on a team that hadn’t won in quite some time. We were told 1 year. It was three. It was a frustrating season. We won exactly one game. I often wanted to quit. But I refused to show it. My reputation stopped being the angry goalie and became an excellent teammate. I sought to build, to fix chemistry problems, to make the team better.

I got a severe concussion that almost took the game from me and almost crushed me in medic school (head injury + pharm and cardiology = a bad time). I was extremely lucky to have instructors that noticed that I was more functional early in the evening and the accommodated that while I recovered. It all started to come together for me. Hockey was a team sport. It didn’t matter how talented I was if I was a terrible teammate. EMS is a team sport, you have to be able to rely on your partner, on your supervisors, on PD and fire, and they have to be able to rely on you. LIFE IS A TEAM SPORT.

This past season was just as bad as last year. I played great, we kept losing. We won one game, tied a few, lost a ton. My frustration showed occasionally but I was still known for being an excellent teammate. For hyping everyone up, for leaving it all on the ice for the team and not just my own performance. I grew into an excellent teammate, a leader, a better person, because of a game and because of a job.

I sustained another serious concussion this past February. I’m still recovering. I had another opportunity to try out for a pro team and was again bitten by my lack of college play- but that’s ok- I don’t need to go pro and won’t likely pursue it again (though I can’t say I would turn down an opportunity). I took the MCAT this weekend after lots of encouragement from some friends -my TEAM (and a disappointing lack of encouragement or acknowledgement from some other friends. I went to drill with the National Guard on Sunday, and then I went into work 11 hours early because someone was sick and needed to go home- because that’s my team now and I couldn’t leave him there sick when I was home and able to go in. Yesterday during the middle portion of my 35 I had more than one coworker comment that I was know at work for being easy going and super pleasant to work with. I couldn’t have asked for a better compliment. I know I’m a good medic, that my skills are good, that I know my shit. But being told I’m easy to work with coming from where I did was huge. Because life is a team sport, and at this point in my life, I am finally an excellent teammate.

[punmasterkentparson]

Sacred in the Moment

read on ao3

“I wanna kiss you everywhere,” Swoops murmurs, his lips tickling Kent’s jaw as he speaks.

“Everywhere?” Kent asks, only half-listening. They’ve been making out on his couch for twenty minutes and Swoops has both hands on Kent’s ass. Higher brain functions have been out the window for a while.

“Mm, everywhere.” Swoops punctuates this with a gentle bite.

And because Kent can’t pass up any opportunity to be a dick, he says, “Even Omaha, Nebraska?”

Swoops pulls his head up. “What.”

“Salt Lake City, Utah?” Kent continues, making his eyes wide as though scandalized. “Steak N Shake?”

“Stop.”

“Blockbuster?”

Swoops groans and pinches his ass through his jeans. It barely hurts but Kent yelps anyway. “I was being romantic, you dickweed.”

“Sorry. It was too easy.” Kent knows he’s grinning too much for a believable apology.

“You’re such a pain,” Swoops grumbles fondly, and kisses him.

Columbus, OH

Losing is never fun. Losing in Columbus isn’t as awful as, say, losing in Pittsburgh, but it still sucks. The Aces are subdued the next morning as they haul their luggage out of the hotel, onto the airport shuttle, and onto the plane. Most of them find their usual seats and settle in for a nap, a movie, or a game of cards. Swoops’ normal seat isn’t next to Kent, it’s a few up ahead, so Kent is surprised when Swoops slips into the spot beside him.

“I’m not gonna be good company,” Kent warns.

“That’s fine, I’m not staying. Just wanted to give you something.”

“Oh?” Kent’s eyes still feel sticky with sleep and his heart is heavy from the shutout. He doesn’t realize what Swoops is doing until he feels the light pressure of lips against his temple.

“Everywhere,” Swoops says, giving Kent a gentle smile, and then he gets up and heads down the aisle.

Kent doesn’t figure out what Swoops meant by that until their plane is touching down on Ottawa tarmac. When he does, he blushes so hard his cheeks hurt.

Oh. Everywhere.

BB&T Center, Miami, Florida

“Your tie’s crooked, c’mere.”

Kent looks down at himself, trying to see what Swoops is talking about.

“Just c’mere, will you?” Swoops is waving him away from the door to the locker room, which is already full of their teammates pulling off their game day suits and getting ready for warmups.

Kent rolls his eyes and goes over. “I’m taking it off in like, a minute.”

“Aren’t you the captain? Set an example.” Swoops messes with Kent’s collar and makes a few (minor) adjustments to the angle of Kent’s tie. “There.”

“You did literally nothing—” Kent begins to protest, but shuts up when Swoops reels him in by his tie and kisses him. The pressure is light, barely there, and gone in less than a second. After all, they’re alone in the hall but anyone could walk by.

Swoops drops Kent’s tie and winks. “Everywhere. Even outside the locker room.” Then he grins. “You’re blushing really hard.”

“You surprised me,” Kent sputters.

“Better stay on your toes, then.” Swoops pats his shoulder and heads into the locker room alone.

Kent stands outside and fans his face for a couple minutes before he feels like he can go in without being chirpped to death.

The Blind Badger, Anaheim, California

Kent quickly figures out that there’s no logic to the locations where Swoops will choose to kiss him. Sometimes it’s by city, sometimes by arena, sometimes it’s just random. Kent also finds out that he’s not allowed to play. He sneaks into Swoops’ hotel room one night in a desperate attempt to end the week-long dry spell they’ve been forced to have, and when he tries to say, “Everywhere, even your hotel room in Dallas,” Swoops just shakes his head and says, “Doesn’t work like that, Parse.”

So it’s Swoops’ thing, just his. Kent doesn’t mind. It’s embarrassing as hell, because he cannot stop himself from blushing like a fool every time it happens, but he doesn’t mind.

He’s starting to look forward to it.

The Aces go to Anaheim and win handily, 5-2, and then go out to celebrate. They’ve got their choice of bars, and end up in a place that one of the guys found on Yelp, called “The Blind Badger.”

“This place is classy as fuck,” Carl announces when they get in.

“When you’re right, you’re right,” Swoops drawls, although Kent is looking around and he can’t say that Carl’s wrong. The bartenders are wearing ties and serving flaming martinis. Most people here are wearing at least business casual attire.

Their group gets a table and orders their first and second rounds. The bar’s atmosphere keeps them from getting too rowdy, but it’s impossible to smother the full force of their volume. Fortunately, the bar is crowded enough that the worst of their noise is drowned out.

Three rounds and a burger later, Kent hauls himself out of his seat while calling, “I’m going to the bathroom, nobody drink my beer.”

He’s no sooner through the door labeled “Gentlemen” than Swoops is right there with him.

“Swoops, what—Oh no, dude, we’re basically in public—”

Swoops kisses him anyway. Hot, wet, and filthy. Kent almost chokes on the amount of tongue in his mouth. His back bumps the door and he yelps, which becomes a low, needy whine when Swoops pushes a thigh right there.

It’s over before Kent can even think to retaliate. 

Swoops steps back, smirking, and licks his lips before wiping them with the back of his hand. Then he gestures to Kent’s crotch and says, “You’ve got...”

Kent doesn’t need to look, he can feel his own dick getting fat in his pants. “Who’s fault is that?!”

“Not mine. I was never here. I never kissed you in the men’s bathroom at a bar.”

“You absolutely did, and now I’m horny as fuck. You better make this up to me later. You owe me.”

“I will.” Swoops is still smiling, the dick. “You gonna let me out?”

Kent moves away from the door, but not without getting in a hard smack on Swoops’ ass as he goes by.

The Marriott, Montreal, Canada

They’re both stupid, is the problem.

They join a group of guys watching a movie in Kelly’s room. They don’t sit together—Kent shoves his way onto the bed and Swoops takes up a spot at the foot of an armchair. But they’re in the same room, still together, and even having five other teammates in the room with them heckling their way through Fifth Element, they can catch each others’ eyes and share a smile and that sense of, Oh, hello.

After Corbin Dallas has met LeeLoo (but before the Diva sings her solo) Swoops gets up and says, “I’m hitting the vending machine.”

There are scattered requests for Doritos and Snickers and Diet Pepsi, and half a dozen other things that aren’t on any of their meal plans. Kent grabs his wallet and says, “I’ll go with you.”

The halls are empty, just miles of off-white walls and eye-smarting geometric red carpet. A dimly-lit alcove hides the ice dispenser and two vending machines, one for drinks and one for snacks. It’s not exactly romantic. But as Kent is feeding dollars in and eyeing his chocolate options, Swoops takes his arm and says softly, “Hey.”

Kent looks up, and Swoops kisses him. It’s soft and lingering, the kind of kiss that makes Kent feel peeled open. Like Swoops is seeing Kent raw and he likes what he sees. It makes Kent feel wanted, cherished.

"With Hershey's as my witness," Swoops murmurs.

Kent chokes on a laugh, which makes Swoops giggle, and it's so goddamn cute that Kent has to pull him back in. They kiss through their smiles, each of their hands finding places to latch on: a hip, a shoulder, a back pocket. Kent loves that Swoops makes him feel like this, like Kent is something to be sought out and savored. He wants to say "fuck the movie" and drag Swoops back to his room.

Then someone says, way too close, “Are you guys—oh, my god.”

They break apart. It’s Scraps.

Kent can feel the blood draining out of his own face. He feels numb.

Scraps is still standing there, slack-jawed, his eyes wider than Kent ever thought they could go. 

“S-scraps,” Swoops says. “Buddy—”

“You guys were kissing."

Kent grapples with words. “I, uh. No we weren't.” 

“You were kissing in the hallway,” Scraps says, like he’s talking about an alien encounter in a cornfield. “Like, kissing. Are you guys, you know, together? Or is it just—what’s it, blowing off steam? ‘Cause I never did it but I heard a lot of guys in Juniors—”

“How ‘bout you fuck off ‘cause it’s none of your business?” Swoops cuts in, his glare cold.

Kent puts a hand on Swoops’ arm and gives him a look meant to convey Back the hell off, man. To Scraps, he says, “Can we talk about this later? Please? And... maybe don’t tell the guys? Or like, anyone?”

Still giving Swoops a befuddled frown, Scraps nods. “Sure.” He holds up a dollar bill. “Can I buy some pretzels?”

So they move aside to let Scraps buy his pretzels. Kent pats him on the shoulder and says, “Don’t tell the guys?”, to which Scraps repeats, “Sure,” and heads back to the room.

Kent heaves a sigh of relief. “Well, fuck.” Then he gives Swoops a gentle-but-not-that-gentle punch to the arm.

“Ow! The hell?”

Kent punches numbers into the vending machine and squats to pick his M&Ms out of the slot. “You didn’t have to be such a dick.”

“Oh yeah, sorry for being scared outta my mind. How long do you think this is gonna stay quiet? It’s Scraps, for crying out loud! This is the guy who spent a whole day pondering out loud whether a ton of bricks weighed more than a ton of feathers and still didn’t come up with an answer!”

“Wow, and you are still being a dick.”

Swoops waves both hands angrily, hard enough to nearly send his handful of snacks flying. “How are you so calm?!”

Kent sighs. “Because it’s Scraps. He’s a good guy, he won’t rat us out. Christ, Swoops, you know that. You wanna tell me why you’re freaking out so badly?”

Swoops grinds his teeth for a second, then says, “No.”

“No, you don’t know, or no, you don’t wanna tell me?”

“No, I don’t want to tell you. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“So?”

Kent gapes. “Fine, then.” He turns on his heel and heads back to the room, alone.

Later, when Swoops comes back and hands out goodies, Kent doesn’t look at him. He doesn’t acknowledge Swoops for the rest of the night, and when he wakes up the next morning still mad, he doesn’t talk to Swoops on the bus or the plane, either.

Saint Paul, Minnesota

Eventually the sting of the spat wears off. It has to; if they don’t let it dissipate, it could fuck with team dynamics, and nothing is worth that. Kent is a captain first and a lover second. When they’re on the road, facing down December and an agonizingly slow but steady drop down the Western Conference rankings, he has to be.

They don’t talk about what happened in front of the vending machine in the Marriott in Montreal, though. It chafes at Kent, the memory of dismissal in that single, “So?” But Scraps doesn’t tell anyone and that seems to satisfy Swoops, and if there’s no active disagreeing going on, Kent has to assume it’s all fine.

"Are you guys fighting?" Scraps asks Kent at a team dinner.  "You and Jeff?" Everyone around them is stuffing their faces and drinking, because they’d just lost that afternoon on account of a truly embarrassing couple of empty-net goals.The bar has three blaring TVs and most of them are half drunk. None of them are listening.

"No.”

Scraps looks surprised. “Really? You guys are always together, and now you’re...not.” He glances down the table, where Swoops is laughing loudly at something Tads has just said and stuffing cheese sticks in his mouth. Then he leans in close and says something so quiet that Kent can’t make it out.

“Bud, I can’t hear you.”

The volume comes up a notch. “I said, did you guys break up?”

Kent’s immediate response is to shake his head and exclaim, “No!” but what’s horrifying is that his first thought is, Wait, did we?

Their game hasn’t suffered, at least. Kent wouldn’t place the blame of tonight’s loss on him and Swoops not clicking on the ice.

But he’s acutely aware that Swoops hasn’t kissed him since Montreal, and that... scares him, actually. He hadn’t let himself think about it but he is now and when he looks at Swoops sitting a few feet (it feels like miles) away, drinking and eating and not seeking Kent out with his eyes the way he usually would...

It’s a black hole in Kent’s chest.

Shit.

Providence River, Providence, Rhode Island

“Can we talk?” Kent asks—pleads, really, the morning of the game. Half the team is still asleep upstairs in their rooms, the other half eating breakfast and fully distracted by coffee and their phones. Kent is not a morning person, but Swoops is. Kent had set his alarm for this god-awful hour so he’d have a shot at getting Swoops alone.

Swoops has been wearing an expression like he was expecting this since he spotted Kent coming out of the elevator. But he just sighs, says, “Yeah, sure,” and puts his empty plate aside. “Where?”

“Let’s take a walk,” Kent suggests.

They grab cinnamon rolls and cups of coffee for the road and leave the hotel. Nobody expects the Aces to go anywhere this early, so the front lobby and entrance are clear. Kent steers them in the direction of the Providence River. Swoops might know where they’re going, he might not. Still, he follows without question or complaint.

With the sun barely in the sky and the area not residential, they have the sidewalks mostly to themselves. Kent asks, without preamble, “Did we break up?”

Swoops nearly spits out his coffee. “What? No!” His eyes are wide. “Wait, are you saying you want—”

“No! No.”

“Okay.” Swoops takes a careful breath. “Okay. Good. I don’t want to.”

“Me neither.”

Kent leads them left at an intersection, and it’s only a few more minutes before the river comes into view. There’s a bike path following it, lined with white railing and skeletal trees bereft of their leaves. It’s November but unseasonably warm—or at least what passes for “warm” in Rhode Island at this time of year. Kent’s sweatshirt and his coffee are keeping him from feeling the brunt of the morning chill. The sun is rising over the city, breaking it into blocky shadows and streaks of light.

They walk, finishing their cinnamon rolls and draining their coffees and then dumping the remains in a public trashcan. The silence drags on.

Swoops breaks it. “I know what I said, I know how it came off, and I’m sorry. I’m also sorry I wasn’t sorry earlier. I’m just... I don’t know. I was pissed off.”

Kent hates to ask, but he does. “At me?”

There’s a small, awful pause preceding Swoops’ response. “No.”

“Scraps, then? ‘Cause it’s not his fault he saw us—”

“I’m not pissed at Scraps. Or maybe ‘pissed’ isn’t the right word, I don’t know. I just—him showing up reminded me, is all. That it’s not safe to kiss you everywhere.” Swoops blows out a frustrated breath and rubs his eyes. “I would, you know? I’d kiss you in front of other people. I’d kiss you anywhere, in front of everyone, if I...could.” His eyes are going glassy and he quickly wipes the wetness away.

“Holy shit, are you—?” Kent says, but doesn’t wait for a response before pulling Swoops into a tight hug.  

Swoops’ returning grip is like a bearhug. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Kent holds him close as long as he dares. Then he pulls back and meets Swoops’ gaze. “So, you like me, don’t you.”

“Of course I like you.”

“You really, really like me.”

“I’m fucking crazy about you,” Swoops huffs. “Okay?” He’d be more convincingly exasperated if his face wasn’t blotchy and his eyes weren’t still damp.

“I’m fucking crazy about you, too,” Kent admits, even though it feels like diving in front of a Zdeno Chara slapshot. Being around Swoops has the side-effect of making Kent brave to the point of stupidity. “So don’t stop kissing me all over North America, okay? You said everywhere. I want everywhere.”

Swoops might cry again, from the look of him. Kent can’t believe he’s been best friends with this guy for half a decade and never known what a soft heart Swoops has. “I’ll do my best,” Swoops says.

Kent wants so badly to take his hand. “Come on,” he says instead. “Let’s find a really thick bunch of trees and kiss behind them.”

“That’s basically in public,” Swoops protests, but Kent can’t help noticing that he follows along as soon as Kent starts walking again. “I’m not helping you do something that stupid.”

“Well, fine. Where do you wanna kiss me?”

Swoops puts an arm over Kent’s shoulders—casual enough to be ‘just friends’ but close enough for Kent to feel his warmth—and smiles. “I’ll see what comes to me.”

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 57 - NYR - Burn the Tape

We came into this seven-game homestand with some needs: capitalize on your home-ice advantage and get into this playoff race in a more consistent manor. That mission didn’t start well for sure but whether it felt like it or not the Sabres win percentage went up. It was the ugly win-loss pattern that is torture to endure during a playoff race this tight but it was better than the losing stretches that prevailed before the bye-week. As this homestand went on it became clearer some switch had been flipped even if not always to successful ends. From the end of the Carolina game onward, maybe even the end of the Minnesota game in places, the Sabres defense has stepped up and fought tough matchups. If the Sabres were going to end this homestand on a high note it would take all cylinders firing properly. That Winnipeg game was closer than that final score would indicate and one bounce different against the Hurricanes and the standings look quite a bit different right now. The past is the past though and so is the Rangers Cup window. Yes, let’s do some Playoff Trash talk: Rangers, during your supposed Cup window you never looked close. In fact, having watched most of those years during the Sabres tank years I could see the truly dominant performances were rare. That’s how the Rangers win in the playoffs: barely. This season its very unlikely you make it and a matchup like this seems to take on a different flavor when its locked in together for 4-7 games. Sabres in 5. So, remember those positive things I said about Buffalo before the trash talk? The Sabres did not do those things. This was probably the most disheartening loss of the season, if not its damn close to the Home Opener shutout. This game made me not want to do these for the rest of the season. Nonetheless, I am your Sabre Soldier and won’t ever give up. This mess ended 6-2 Rangers. You know how we all thought the Rangers would be the easier New York team to beat? Yeah, fuck us, right?

This game was so bad its in a category of games that don’t even earn a full goal-by-goal recap. Spoiler Alert: Jeff Skinner scored all the Sabres goals this game. To be specific, he scored two goals. That was all we got this game. Yes, there were other opportunities. Jack Eichel rang one off the bar. Sam Reinhart was stopped by this young Bulgarian sensation in Rangers goaltender Alexsandar Georgiev. Tage Thompson missed two wide open nets right in front when the score was 3-2. Apart from a section of the second period and the last ten or so minutes of the third period this game looked like no one knew how to play hockey. Everyone was watching the puck, everyone seemed to bump into each other like they were all playing their own game. The Sabres had opportunities on a night New York was not playing a sound defensive game. Remember how we’ve been talking about the Sabres cleaning up play in their own zone the past three or four games? They took that and threw it out the window. I feel so bad for Linus Ullmark who you kind of feel was in the wrong place at the wrong time starting in this game. What goals are we blaming on him? Right, I said I wasn’t doing a goal-by-goal recap. Well fuck it with this game. For Ullmark’s sake let’s dissect this train crash.

4:09 into the first a grown man named Boo Nieves scored the first goal. This was a scrambled play no matter which way you cut it and Ullmark was screened maybe two different ways. The second goal came about ten minutes later when Vlad Namestnikov launched a shot from the blue line that got redirected in front of Ullmark by Jesper Fast. Ignoring the fact that he was screened the Sabres were playing basketball-style zone defense this period and it was not working. The Linus Ullmark fault counter is still at 0 now as the Sabres find themselves down 2-0 going into the second period. The Rangers are getting penalized frequently now, once for putting the puck over the glass in a delay of game. This Rangers team is bad. THEY’RE BAD! Luckily in the middle period the Sabres did respond a little. Jeff Skinner got the puck out alone in front and put it far side around Georgiev. The visitors responded because good things can never last with this Sabres team and Jimmy Vesey of all the hated little Eminem-looking motherfuckers tucks one in like a blot of lightning on a blown coverage. Ullmark had locked down the post. I am not blaming this one on him. Jeff Skinner got another goal, this time on the powerplay later in the period. This got me feeling maybe the Sabres could salvage something from this horror show. I mean if they can score a powerplay goal then why not? Why not, because we must be tortured with no frigging back-to-back wins for eternity! The Sabres poured it on late in the third and could’ve tied it on several shots. None beat the Prince of New York and Buffalo blew a d-zone coverage in their own zone to allow Pavel Buchnevich to tap it in. That goal is the only one you can sort of blame on Ullmark. The air left the building and I turned the radio off full of disappointment and hopelessness. Okay, so the first of the two remaining goals could also be blamed on Ullmark if you feel the need. The net was wide open for Namestnikov, but the 6-2 goal is literally an empty net. 6-2 Sabres but 2-2 if we’re only counting the goals Ullmark gave up. That thing stung.

There was other stuff that happened in this game on top of defensive breakdown, horrible play in their own end and generally unacceptable performance. Uhh… Kyle Okposo fought. He probably shouldn’t be fighting, and it looks like he got hurt doing it. No updates on his condition as of the posting of this but a cursory look over his history tells you exactly why its so scary that this fight happened. You know what, there really isn’t anything redeemable about this game. Burn the tape! Burn the tape and well you’re at it Fire Housley. There is no way this team not being able to beat lesser opponents consistently, except for Detroit, is not a problem of coaching. Housley said they played soft after the game: You think, Phil? Something has got to change. I said I’m on this crazy rollercoaster until the end but boy did I want to get off after this game. After New Jersey tomorrow night, you have the Leafs, Caps, both Florida teams, and the Penguins in the following six games. There was no help on the out-of-town scoreboard last night and the Sabres now sit five points out of the last playoff spot and five points back of the first team out in Carolina. This was hot trash last night and I don’t know if I have any confidence this team won’t continue to be hot trash and fall out of the playoff race in the coming weeks. I guess we’ll have to find out! Like, share and comment: I feel bad asking after this mess. Enjoy your weekend maybe not thinking about the Sabres.

Thanks for reading.

P.S. Imagine if Jeff Skinner isn’t on this team. Yeah, its like last season all over again.