#breakaway glass

[explicette]

[justanancientfangirl]

I need to buy breakaway glass. So I can give into the urge to BITE

[rainybookshop]

NHL network you canNOT just post a stat like "teams are 206-4 when leading a series 3-0" like I can't think about the absolutely bonkers narrative of the Oilers this season without- OF FUCKING COURSE THEY SCORED AS I WAS WRITING THIS

[ringingbell1978]

The Island of Dr Moreau (1977)

[solarzilla]

Bios of Nexus Prime's Components and himself

[bluepines]

I want everyone to know when Bunting got his break away my first thought was "Dumo breakaway???" then I laughed and then I got sad

[merciawintersageposting]

…do you hear that? it’s as tho a thousand college business major bros screeched all at once

lucanis’ room smells like axe body spray and suffering

[alchemistc]

okay….. can I ask about Buck in the hockey au?

Buck was a middling college player who got drafted in the third round after his team missed the Frozen Four, and he kind of labored in obscurity for a few years in the AHL before his current team picked him up trying to unload cap space to buy out a problem players contract.

Buck plays four regular season games with his new team before he gets sent back down. The company line is that he's just Not Ready but in actuality he's been hooking up with girls in visitor facilities and once in the team bus. His coach (the coach is Bobby I'm just still working out the details) tells him he sees a lot of potential in Buck, and he could make it if he could just find a way to get his head on straight.

Buck gets his head on straight. He kills it with the affiliate team, runs a point streak through twenty-three games as a defenseman, quarterbacks the power play to the point that fans of the NHL team are up in arms that he hasn't been called up.

They're playing with numbers, trying to give Buck as much ice time as possible while they lose the weight of one of their underperforming D-Men - the usual contract juggling. Then they call him up. He has a few good games, scores a few goals, has a wicked wrister from the blue line. He also scores an own goal against Chim his fourth game up and keeps taking stupid penalties. It's 2-4 penalty minutes a game for too many men or delay of game because he keeps getting too overexcited and slinging the puck over the glass instead of along the boards.

Abby works for TNT, and Buck catches her eye while she's between the pipes for a national broadcast game. She's got enough pull to get his number and they start up a phone based relationship.

Buck's team makes playoffs his first year, and gets slaughtered in the first round. Abby's mom dies and she takes a break from sports casting and Buck, not that she really lets him know that.

During the off-season Buck's team trades for a defenseman who's been in the KHL for a few years. His name is Eddie Diaz.

Buck hates him for about half a day. He feels like he's being replaced. He's worked so fucking hard to make it and now there's this guy who just gets a spot right away?

(They're best buds by the end of the week, and by the time the regular season starts they're playing 25 minutes a night as the top D-Pair)

Buck's career comes to a screeching halt in the second round of the playoffs that year when he gets tripped on a breakaway and slides awkwardly into the boards.

(No one makes the connection at the time, but the player who trips him is the same one one of their old wingers, Deluca, saved from the bottom of a dogpile years ago when a skate got way too close to his neck)

The injury isn't an easy one. There's no quick recovery time. Buck is just sort of stuck in limbo for a while. And then when he's cleared to return they find out there were complications. Coach Bobby benches Buck.

And Buck has been nothing but hockey for most of his life. It was the only way to get his parents to pay attention to him. The only outlet for all his anger. And he's good at it. He's the best. He could be the best, anyway.

Buck takes to twitter during his 'recovery' time. At first he's just posting stupid shit, but then people start paying attention to him. The PR dept does Not Like the way Buck calls out bullshit and trolls on Twitter. The GM gets involved, things blow up. Buck is reluctantly allowed back at practices and quickly jumps into game readiness.

And it's clear he's come back better.

The team toils for years in first and second round exits, and some of their stars are coming close to contract years, and they just can't break out. Buck places third for the Norris a few times, and he and Eddie are often talked about as one of the best Defensive pairings in the league, but their team is fast and light and they get beat to shit every time playoffs roll around. Eddie's feisty, he'll talk shit until the opposing bench is FUMING, he'll get scrappy along the boards, he'll duke it out when necessary, but he usually has to keep a lid on that because he can't let Buck down by getting injured.

At the end of year six for Buck, after a heartbreaking out, Buck's end of year presser goes viral when he talks about how he's been in the league for six years and hasn't won shit.

The fanbase panics because he's in his second to last contract year. If they can't contend, they're convinced he's gonna want out before the All-Star break. (None of them are aware that Buck would rather re-break his leg than leave this team he considers family, and his agent would like to keep it that way)

The team has a banner fucking year. They've got record game winning streaks and record point streaks and their aging goalie has never played better. He has four shutouts in the first half of the season. And Buck was never planning to leave so no one really broaches the contract thing. They'll figure it out in the off-season. Buck's got games to win.

With the trade deadline looming and Buck's team looking like a shoe-in for top of their conference, the front office makes a... strange move early in. They trade for Tommy Kinard. He's a bruiser, real old school type, skates like he's got bricks attached to his ankles but will knock a motherfucker down for looking sideways at his guys. He hasn't announced he's retiring at the end of the season, but he's planning to hang it up either way.

The team is hesitant about that, at first, once they know. He and Chim played together for a few years, and Chim welcomes him to the team by filling his car with golf balls. Pointed, maybe, but Tommy laughs it off, and retaliates, and the team starts to grow fond of him. BUCK starts to grow fond of him. Buck has a Cup run to worry about but Tommy is there, playing five minutes a night and knocking dudes on their ass that would normally be going for Buck and Eddie so consistently that Buck and Eddie feel a little invincible. People are second guessing whether or not they want to risk incurring the wrath of Kinard for a meaningless late March game.

And that is where I leave this because I'm actually seriously considering writing this fic now and that's about where I'd start it.

[xfilesinamajor]

Screaming "WHAT IF GLENN WAS THE FUCKING TARGET?!?" to myself through the entire episode.

He's the only one who took a direct shot in that attack. If not for the plate in his head, he'd be dead. If someone takes a direct shot to the head, that doesn't say bad aim to me, and the three Olivers weren't really identical.

As a stunt double, he could plausibly have known a film professor. In fact, Dudenoff having a false shoulder could mean he worked as a stunt double at one point in his life. (Yes, I know joint replacements aren't uncommon after a certain age, but it seems like quite the coincidence.)

Something weird was going on at that funeral in Concussions. Someone put a real bottle in with all those breakaways, and a full glass bottle to the skull of a man in his 70s could have been fatal. Maybe it was just an accident, but I keep thinking about it.

But mostly that first thing. So what I really want to know is--what does Glenn know that would make him a target?

[incorrectvtuberquotes]

Shiori: Rules are made to be broken!

Elizabeth: Rules are made to be followed. Nothing's made to be broken.

Nerissa: Glow sticks.

Fuwawa: Pinatas.

Mococo: Karate boards.

Bijou: The tape on finish lines.

Raora: Breakaway glass.

Cecilia: Toblerones.

Gigi: Rules.

[captainlexapro]

favorite hockey things part 2:

Every player saying thank you to their goalie with a lil post-game head bump (love you! bonk!)

Rookie laps. Look at our boy!! 😊 🥹 Tell him congrats!! Be nice to him!!

When players doing faceoffs fall over lol. Like little kids Fighting So Hard they lose balance and end up on the ground. But that’s what happens during a joust when you’re fully bent over and your face is less than a foot from your opponent’s and you’re trying to use the lowest part of your stick to fling a rubber disk to your teammate in less than one second.

Dmen being the personal bodyguards for their goalie every time the goalie covers the puck/stops play. They materialize immediately and make sure to get in between their tendy and any players on the other team like 😤 back the fuck up!!!

Players looking up to the heavens (aka watching replays). The sports/religious imagery is never ending.

When a breakaway is happening and one player uses their stick to ‘boost’ the other in the hopes of catching up. Goofball behavior. A failed attempt is potentially very pathetic. That being said a successful attempt is very impressive and wowdidyouseethat?!

Big players basically stepping over the boards. Medium players jumping over the boards. Small players rolling log style over the boards.

The Rules of the Scrum. When a fight breaks out and players immediately look around to grab onto any jersey that's not theirs. and not even to fight. just to hold onto and keep close :) i'm keeping my eye on you and you're keeping your eye on me.

just. the whole concept of the penalty box. STOP EVERYTHING!!! you're in trouble!!! now go get encased in this glass box (because we simply must be able to still watch you NOT play hockey). sit here in shame and reflect on your actions (unlikely).

Goal horns. 📢 They’re obnoxious. They’re iconic. They’re strange. They’re unique. It’s not hockey without them.

Same vein: goal songs! Actual pavlov’s dog trigger when out in public hearing it play. WE SCORED? wait i’m in the grocery store.

Three Stars. It’s endearing to me how they give out lil ‘good job’ head pats to not one but THREE players every game.

More goalie love: when they just fuckin’ lie flat on their back with the puck somewhere under them. channeling “heavy as *a thousand* feathers …stiff as a board” and “if i don’t move they won’t see it” energy

[lumosinlove]

a breakaway snoop if you please?? <3

!!!

Logan watched the way Finn pushed the new glasses up his nose. He was Finn. He would lose the self-consciousness in that gesture in no time at all. Soon it would become as poised and flawless as the rest of him.

“Hello?” Finn said.

Logan blinked and realized Finn was staring back at him, sun catching the tortoise shell frames.

“Quoi,” Logan said, and it came out raspy. He cleared his throat. “What?”

“I’m hungry?”

“Oh, yeah.” Logan stood up. He took his hat off, pushed his hair back, put it back on. “Yeah.”

“Yeah what?”

“What?”

Finn laughed. “Where do you want to go?”

“Did you ask me that?”

Finn titled his head back. “Yes.”

“Oh, oh.” Logan’s face felt hot. “Um—pizza?”

“Finally. God.” Finn tipped Logan’s hat down over his eyes as he swung himself up from his chair. “Let’s go.”

[truthwatcher-vez]

ask game: 9 with rlainarin? ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

For ash-sokia, for the write a kiss ask game #9: a kiss in public. 

Author's Note: This fic started out light-hearted and then took a more serious turn during the writing process.  Many, many thanks to cosmere-play, rysn and Priscellie for beta-reading!

Content warnings for classism, speciesism, prejudice

Renarin fidgeted nervously as he and Rlain neared their destination for the evening, a classy new winehouse that had just opened up in an upscale part of the Breakaway market.  It was similar to the establishment on the Shattered Plains where Adolin and Shallan had first gone out together.  When Renarin had heard about the winehouse, it had seemed like a good choice for their first public date.  …Well, a first date somewhere outside of the usual haunts frequented by the members of Bridge Four.  Renarin had heard that this winehouse was supposed to have a relaxing atmosphere and a truly impressive list of wines.

Rlain had initially seemed hesitant about the idea, but ultimately he had given in to Renarin’s enthusiasm, and had agreed they should give it a try.

Renarin was so caught up in his own nerves that he almost didn’t notice the odd look that the master-servant at the door gave him as she double-checked his reservation.  As they were being shown to a table, Renarin thought he could feel her staring at his back.  There were whispers at the tables surrounding them, and someone sniggered.  Renarin flushed and tried to ignore it.  He’d grown too comfortable in Adolin’s shadow when he was among other Alethi lighteyes, forgetting how much Adolin’s presence protected him from being targeted as the ‘strange Kholin’.

Renarin took his time reviewing the wine lists, which were written out in Alethi glyphs as well as women’s script.  Rlain professed that he found the number of choices overwhelming, and asked Renarin for advice.  Renarin gladly obliged.  As he began sharing his expertise regarding all of the different wines, something in him began to relax.  Rlain listened attentively, offering questions here or there, and eventually they settled on some specialty wines from northern Azir.  A glass of sapphire for Renarin and a red for Rlain.

The wine really was excellent, and the alcohol took the edge from Renarin’s nervousness.  As the two of them continued to make comfortable small talk, Rlain raised a hand in a tentative gesture to request a refill of his water goblet.  Renarin noticed immediately when the signal was overlooked by the winehouse staff.  He followed up by flagging a servant himself, and the man quickly came over with a pitcher and refilled their glasses.  A little while later, the same thing happened again.  Then Renarin ordered them another round of wine--orange this time in accordance with the Codes.  Another master-servant brought Renarin’s wine over quickly.  Rlain’s… didn’t arrive.

Oh.  What was happening finally began to sink in.  The looks and the whispers hadn’t been about him.  Or they hadn’t entirely been about him.  Rlain had known, or had suspected this would happen.  He’d expressed hesitancy when they’d first discussed the winehouse--pointing out that darkeyes typically wouldn’t be allowed into such a place, and singers had the darkest eyes of all.  Renarin had brushed off the concern at the time, responding that Rlain was a Knight Radiant now, and Radiants belonged to a class all their own.

Apparently, not everyone agreed with that sentiment.

He was suddenly deeply mortified, because he hadn’t really spared a second thought about the situation from Rlain’s perspective.  Renarin had wanted to go out so that they could have a good time together, but he had caused Rlain pain without meaning to. 

“I’m sorry,” Renarin said abruptly, with genuine remorse.  “I didn’t mean for our date to turn out like this.”  He reached across the table and took both of Rlain’s hands in his own.

Apparently, not everyone had heard the new gossip that Dalinar Kholin’s son and the listener from Bridge Four were openly courting, either.  A brightlady at a nearby table gasped and visibly recoiled from them, shockspren forming and breaking in the air around her head.  Behind her, a master-servant on the way to deliver wine to another patron forgot her training and nearly fumbled her tray as she stared.  And at yet another table, an elderly brightlord in Bethab colors muttered something harshly under his breath, his brows drawing downward as he attracted a bevy of aversionspren.

That was the very last straw.  Something in Renarin snapped, filling him with fury.  It didn’t often show itself, but he had his father’s temper.  Having to witness the insults to Rlain, and to the two of them together, was absolutely intolerable.

Renarin slid his chair out from the table with a long scraping sound that made conversations trail off and drew every eye in the winehouse.  Then he rose and walked around the side of the table to stand over Rlain, placing a hand firmly on the back of his chair.  He left a trail of bubbling angerspren in his wake.

The listener eyed him suspiciously.  “What are you…?”

Renarin drew in a deep breath as he scanned the entire room.  Then he attempted to channel his cousin Jasnah as he spoke out loudly, letting the tone of his voice drop to match the temperature of the snow caps outside the tower.

“The wine here is good, and the selection is excellent.  But the service is appalling, and the ambiance is even worse.  A brightlord’s guest is a brightlord’s guest, deserving to be treated with dignity and respect.  No one here is in any position to dare question whom a brightlord of the second dahn chooses to invite out for the evening.  Especially when that guest is a storming war hero and a Knight Radiant.”

Renarin looked down at Rlain’s upturned face, and raised his other hand to cup his cheek.  He spared a moment to hope that he wasn’t being too presumptuous, then he stooped down and firmly kissed him.

The kiss was chaste, determined, defiant.  He meant it to be a deliberate message to everyone else in the room.  You can’t ignore us and we’re not going anywhere.  This is something you’re just going to have to get used to.

Rlain went very still--not drawing away, but not exactly reciprocating either.  It caused a bit of Renarin’s anger to slide sideways.  You’re doing this wrong, he told himself critically.  He’d been attempting to help, but had just wound up messing things up, as always. 

Then the listener’s quiet humming changed subtly, shifting to something calmer.  Rlain leaned in and returned the kiss, and Renarin felt himself relax marginally.

When Renarin drew himself back up to his full height again, he quickly spotted the man whose clothing marked him as the head master-servant of the winehouse.  He glared and gestured pointedly down at Rlain’s wineglass, still sitting empty on the table.  The man got the message, and another master-servant quickly scurried over with the missing goblet of orange wine.    

Renarin returned to his seat, his anger slowly dissipating.  He felt the weight of Rlain’s gaze on him as the listener sipped at his wine, and it caused a flush to rise in his face.  “I’m sorry,” Renarin apologized again, as the ambient noise of the winehouse began to resume.  “I probably should have handled that differently.”

“Probably,” Rlain agreed mildly.  The cadence of the word was unfamiliar, and Renarin wished he understood enough about the rhythms to know which one Rlain was attuning right now.  “Still, you chose to speak up, to a room full of lighteyes.  I…no one’s ever really done that for me before.”  Slowly, he extended a hand across the table.  Renarin reached out and took it, twining their fingers together.

Renarin had acted out of anger in the moment, drawing everyone’s attention to them without even asking Rlain what he wanted.  That had been a mistake.  They were courting now, and situations like this would almost certainly happen again.  Moving forward, he resolved to do better.

As they continued to drink their wine in silence, Rlain spoke again.  “In my experience, people don’t change unless they’re given a reason.  I love Bridge Four, but they never would have let me carry a spear if I hadn’t made a point of asking first.”  He looked up and met Renarin’s eyes.  “So yes, I’m willing to make lighteyes uncomfortable if it causes some of them to confront their own perceptions of the singers.  If there’s a chance that it results in one tiny step towards singers being more accepted at Urithiru.”

Renarin nodded thoughtfully. Then he smiled at Rlain.  “Making lighteyes uncomfortable is kind of my specialty.”

Rlain smiled back at him.  “I appreciate that. Now why don't we take a look at the wine list again.  I’d be interested in trying that vintage from Tu Bayla….”

[mikedfaist]

I know you mentioned reader stumbling/tripping on stage, but how does mike deal with her getting seriously hurt? whether that be at a show, doing her own stunt on set (I’m working on a set rn and the scenes I’m doing are veryyyy stunt heavy so it made me think of this scenario) or just a silly accident?

It’s not uncommon for her to get hit with objects on stage, though thankfully, it’s mostly flowers, or plushies, or bras. This instance happened one summer, when someone threw a phone and it hit in her in the eye. Mike was not in attendance at this show, and she’s almost grateful he wasn’t. She was transported to the hospital and had to get stiches, but not before finishing the last song with blood all down her face. (The now iconic photo of her became the cover of Rolling Stone the following month labeling her one of the most badass woman in music, though she commented on it saying she wasn’t going to leave early when everyone paid money to see her, but she digresses.)

She called him from the ER, praying she would get to him before he heard from anyone else. (He was sleeping; it went to voicemail. She curses at the time zones).

An hour later, he wakes up and realizes what’s happened. He too curses himself, because of course this is the one show he doesn’t attend. He feels awful, and angry, and threatens to get on a plane to come see her, but she pushes him down.

“Just a few stitches—not losing an eye over this.”

“Okay, but you could have—”

“But I didn’t.”

When they are reunited a couple days later, her demeanor has changed, and she’s a lot less apathetic towards the entire ordeal. She’s sullen, and clings onto him in the entryway to his hotel.

“I need a break.” She’s tired, and her eye is nearly engulfed in purple and black. The world wouldn’t see her for nearly a year after this.

As for an injury on set, there’s a scene she does where she jumps out of a window, and it’s only like a 3 feet fall, and she nailed all of the rehearsals, so she wasn’t really worried, but during what ended up being the final take, she lands awkwardly and feels two separate pops in her ankle. She finishes the take, but the pain is borderline unbearable. Come to find out, she tore two ligaments, and had to be in a boot for several weeks. She was not thrilled, especially so, since she was attending a wedding with Mike only a couple weeks later, and, “This boot does not go with this dress.”

Luckly for her, that’s the worst injury she’s ever gotten. She did have to get stiches in her hand once when she punched a mirror that turned out to not be breakaway glass. There’s a whole thing about it in Watch Mojo’s Top 20 Actor Injuries You ACTUALLY See in the Movie. It also helped she got an Oscar for that role, and that scene is the most talked about.

[bordysbae]

52. “i want this to be real, not fake anymore” with Brendan brisson ☺️

“fake dating”

brendan brisson x f!reader

not proof read!!

wc: 1.0k

you and brendan met a little less than a year ago when he moved to vegas for hockey. you guys live in the same apartment complex, so it all started with the casual ‘morning!’ and ‘has the mailman come yet?’ type of greetings. thankfully, you both grew close over the first two months of brendan being in vegas, and now you two are closer than ever.

it’s strictly platonic though. especially since you see how many girls brendan invites over after going out clubbing. but it doesn’t bother you since you’re basically doing the same with other guys, but you can’t from having slight feelings for him. he’s exactly your type, he has brown fluffy hair, a nice build, he’s taller than you, a sweet smile, he’s funny, and the list goes on.

one day as brendan is sitting on your couch, watching a basketball game on television with you, he says something that catches you off guard.

“i need you to pretend to be my girlfriend,” he blurts out, making your eyes go wide.

“excuse me what?” you say, almost choking on air.

“i accidentally told my mom i have a girlfriend since she was pestering me, and my parents are coming to town next weekend for the game. so can you just pretend to be my girlfriend? i mean they already have an idea of who you are, so it wouldn’t be suspicious. all you need to do is sit with them at the game in my jersey, and have dinner with them for the couple of days that they’re in town,” brendan grins, trying to convince you to say yes.

“that’s all i have to do?”

“well, there is one more thing,” he says bashfully

“and that is…?”

“you need to spend the night at my apartment, for two nights in a row,” he chuckles awkwardly, afraid of what you’ll say.

��brendan brisson! i am not sharing a bed with you!” you exclaim

“cmon please! i’ll pay you if you really want me to. i just need my mom to hop off my ass about getting a girlfriend!” he pleads.

“fine, i’ll do it. you owe me fifty.”

“deal, thank you so much y/n!” he says, as he sits up off of the couch to hug you, but you shrug him off jokingly.

—

the weekend you’ve been dreading is finally here. you’re currently sat right by the ice next to brendan’s parents, in the brisson jersey you purchased in the gift shop only three days before this.

“go brendan honey!” his mom yells as he’s skating down the ice. he almost makes it in, but the shot gets blocked by calgary’s goalie. at first you don’t really care to yell out to brendan, but you realize it looks bad as his “girlfriend,” so you begin to do it despite the awkwardness you feel. but as soon as brendan is on the breakaway, skating closer and closer to the goal, the words “go bren, you got this babe!” flow smoothly out of your mouth like it’s something you’ve said a million times before.

as the little black puck goes straight into the goal, you immediately shoot out of your seat and start cheering as loud as possible. his mother turns to you with a big smile on her face, both of you incredibly proud of brendan. brendan is slammed into the glass by his teammates as a congratulations, coincidentally right in front of you and his parents. he turns around to face you guys, and gives you an extra big smile, and a look of ‘thank you for doing this.’

—

later that night you all go out for drinks and food. you and brendan are squished in the booth next to each other, sat across from his parents who are now asking you a multitude of personal questions.

“so, how did you and brendan meet again?” his father asks. all of these questions are slightly sticking up your anxiety, and brendan notices. out of the corner of his eyes he sees you picking at your fingers and bouncing your knee, so he gently takes your right hand in his left one, and places your guys’ entangled hands on your thigh.

the comfort of brendan touching you soothes your worries, and you’re able to answer the question with ease. “we met in the apartment complex! i live a few doors down from him, so we sort of saw each other a lot. one thing lead to another, and now we’re here!” you smile, looking over at brendan who’s already looking at you.

“aww that’s too cute! reminds me of us, and how we met!” his mom says, turning to her husband.

once you all finish dinner and drinks, you head back to brendan’s apartment. there’s the final period of one last game on television, so him and his father are watching that intently as you get to know his mother better. you’re tucked under brendan’s arm, sharing a blanket with him. before you even realize it, you’re dozing off. you’re awoken as brendan is placing you gently on his bed, pulling the covers above your body.

“mm, brendan thank you,” you groggily mumble out.

“of course y/n, goodnight,” he says as he turns off the bedroom light.

“where are you going?” you ask

“oh i’m gonna sleep on the floor”

“what?” you say, immediately sitting up to see that he’s made himself a little bed on the floor. you gasp at the sight, “are you crazy?! get into the bed! it’s cold, and this is your bed brendan!” you whisper yell at him, making him chuckle. he crawls into bed next to you, and you snuggle into the warmth radiating off of his bare body, but still being careful not to touch him.

“hey y/n?” he mutters, staring at the ceiling.

“yeah?” you say softly, turning on your other side to face him.

“i want this to be real, not fake anymore. i hate having to pretend when i know that i wish it wasn’t fake. i’ve wanted to ask you out for awhile now, but i never had the courage,” he admits, making your heart flutter.

“really? like this isn’t some sick joke?”

“yeah, why would it be a joke?”

“i don’t know brendan, but i feel the same way,” you admit shyly

“really? you do?” he asks softly, as he turns his head to look down at you.

“yup,” you smile, as brendan does the same. he pulls your closer into his body and gently kisses your lips. you’re both very tired, but still manage to enjoy the sweet and intimate moment. you both close your eyes to rest for the night, embracing each others warmth.

[carnagechicken]

the Florida Panthers won the Stanley cup

and with that I have officially watched my first season of hockey.

I started as a fan of the penguins with an affection towards Flower as well. Now I’m ending the season a kraken fan, pens fan, flower fan and with more mattdrai interest than I expected.

The kraken stuff happened in mid April really suddenly, but ever since I started dabbling in hockey fandom in late 2021 I knew that becoming a kraken fan was going to happen eventually, a matter of when not if. Those beautiful jerseys, my love of cephalopods, and the team’s newness were strong draws but I still needed to have a special little guy to seal the deal. I discovered Adam Larsson in late march (thanks @angry-geno-is-score your fics* are brilliant<3) and what do you know that’s kraken hockey baby!

They’re probably going to be my main team next season. Still love the pens, their narratives are exquisite, but my brain wants kraken more.

(The mattdrai is a playoffs discovery that I fear I’ll never recover from. Leon’s disdain for the media and Matthew’s understanding that hockey is supposed to be theatre entertainment is *chef’s kiss*)

And with that here is a list, in no particular order, of some of notable things I saw this season,

: Tristan Jarry goalie goal!!! There was so much to like about this, the bench reaction, EK shaking Jars vigorously, Lars Eller going for a head boop and missing and then going for another one with more force, Ned trying to get Jars to skate over to do a fist bump line at the bench, Jars looking so bashful at the attention. :When Bryan Rust had that mustache and it was….kinda working. : Jeff Carter, the team Old Man that season, scoring like 3 breakaways and 2 short handed goals. : that shootout that went for 12 rounds (thank you Ned). : when Tanger got on all fours and started rocking back and forth in the locker room during Sully’s pre game speech (seriously wtf). : when Rusty scored in OT, had it waved off, and like ten seconds later scored again in a cooler way. : Sully becoming a grandpa<3. : when Jeff was a healthy scratch (the only time) and when he was asked about it was basically like ‘whatever, it doesn’t bother me, I just work here’. This was when I really started to like him btw. : Flower getting to 1000 games!! : Flower reaching the most wins!!! : kreider pulling out Matthew Tkachuk’s mouth guard and failing to throw it over the glass. : Florida beating Boston *again*. : that game were Sid got so pissed he screamed ‘no! No!’ at a ref so loud you could hear him over the crowd. He then proceeded to tell the ref ‘you fucked up’ :when Erik Karlsson made a mistake that sent the game to ot, scored in ot and then fell to his knees in relief. : that 10 to 2 victory over the sharks that was also Sid’s 1200 game. : sid scoring a goal off his ass. It had to happen one day : the pens ot win against vancouver back in Feb. The notable thing was that I was there with my dad and sisters <3

It's the little things that make hockey so fun!

Here's to a wonderful 24/25 season!

(*Seriously, if you haven't already, read Serenity in Those Deep Waters by @angry-geno-is-score on ao3, it's *fabulously* emotional and I can't recommend it enough)