#bruins opinion piece

[reavenedges-lies]

Boston could be heading to the curse of the president's trophy 🤷‍♀️

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

We will find out same as everyone else will

[whatissideways]

So, my teddy bear team just lost (boo) after working really hard and overcoming injury/adversity/reffing calls. Soooo, I'm hoping the sport remains a sport and that wacko people in suits and/or total nutjobs with social media accounts do not turn a _game_ into a blame/shame extravaganza where $$ is the only outcome. Thank you. Hot cocoa and bedtime now.

[sergeifyodorov]

would u do a little analysis of how each team has done so far this season … i trust ur opinions so much

EACH team okay... under the cut bc i am not subjecting the masses to 32 nasty little thots cody edition

Bruins: RIP patrice of course but the bruins are steamrolling as ever... i think that if there is any evidence of the universe simply not caring abt good things it is that the bruins slip and stumble and have some of their best players retired and still manage to put up a 50 win season every year. <- salty leafs fan but ANYHWAY the bruins are easily a Playoff Team. simply "there" 5v5, strong power play, they make their money off finishing (pastrnak you filthy animal) and goaltending (swaymark you filthy animals). they have been trending downwards of late so i'm not entirely sure of like their final standings place but with this kind of head start they're staying up.

Sabres: currently in what we the people call a "decade of darkness." might be a "two decades of darkness" if we're going to be honest. the active player with the most playoff points with the sabres is tyler myers. 7 points. yeah the tall one most famous for having a subreddit that posts the gamescore card every time he's on the bottom of the gamescore card. sabres are really hard to fix because their first real step to contention is "hoping devon levi turns out really good." not promising. bad enough that by selling a piece or two celebrini is in sight. maybe that'll help? a third 1OA?

Red Wings: presenting the mid-season Season Ruining Unforced Error Award early by saying: not that they were going to be as good as their first few games of sniping suggested, but signing patrick kane tanked any realistic hope they have of playoffs. is patrick kane good? he's actually alright. maybe this time the surgery worked. is the team made better by having him on it? it surely isn't! a few REALLY BADLY TIMED dylan larkin based misfortunes have made it go from bad to worse. they were in A2 like a month ago and now they're Out. strengths: finishing. weaknesses: everything else, including morale.

Panthers: okay you've probably clocked this by now but ive been Generally Salty so far and that is bc a) im easily tempted to haterhood and b) currently discussing each team in the atlantic which does nothing to make me less Tempted To Haterhood. that being said the panthers are Good and For Real About It. they can do everything except finish chances, which is fine when the other team has way fewer chances than you and your goalie doesn't let any of them in. fuck ALLL the way off. place your bets on these guys having a deep playoff run. cross your fingers for them not having a deep playoff run i can't stand chuckyposting again it's RAN ITS COURSE. (also: machuk is probably still injured and absolutely Not doing as well as he did the last few seasons. maybe because he's just not that kind of guy but it's probably at least mostly the broken chest thing)

Canadiens: they are bad EXCEPT when it comes to overtime + the shootout. also much like the sabres they're going nowhere fast. i expect at least one of their goalies to be gone at the deadline... furthermore i think ppl who are ragging on slaf's slow development are simply expecting all 1OAs to be like an auston or a connor type (pick your connor) where they come in and immediately adapt -- slaf rings very reminiscent of quinton byfield to me, who was picked 2OA in 2020 and is only now starting to break out. give him time he's a baby...

Senators: despite how much literally everyone talks up all their players constantly, they are not good either. like the sabres or the habs... atlantic is 4 teams in the genuine hunt, 3 teams who suck and have sucked forever and will suck forevermore, and the red wings who haven't made up their minds yet. the sens actually Do have a singular Biggest Problem though and that's goaltending, but they're not a good enough team otherwise that getting a quality goaltender is going to make them playoffs worthy, especially not in the very short (this-season) run.

Lightning: the lightning are weird to me because like i think they're still making up their mind as A People what they want to do. kucherov is the best player in the league rn, this is stamkos' ufa season and he hasn't been offered an extension, vasilevskiy is back and vasying his levskiy... i fully believe they have the capability of getting a playoff spot, maybe even A3 if they want. we've all seen them in the playoffs, we know how they can turn ~It~ on at will. as always they're a deeply mid 5v5 team powered by very strong special teams... the goaltending numbers say goaltending is shit but they've been playing in front of the genuinely unplayable jonas johansson most of the season so i think it'll be fine.

Maple Leafs: as the team ive watched the moast i can talk about these guys for evar so for all of our sanities i will be brief: Auston Matthews, Baby, Look At Him, That's Auston, Auston Motherfucking "Sexy Mustached Bitch" Matthews!!!!!!! powered by an extremely strong power play and very good offence, and defence and goaltending that is held together by Morgan Rielly and a dream. possibly the only reason they're in a playoff spot is the fact that martin jones didn't get claimed on waivers three months ago and i am being dead serious about that. for some reason they're at their best when they're down by two. they do really need both their #1 goalie to come back from injury and to make a splash for a genuine nhl-calibre defenceman, but they're stubbornly determined to win games even through nasty flu.

Hurricanes: their usual selves -- analytics darlings, can't buy a goal. this year they can't buy a save either -- Freddie is out with a medical condition, Raanta is straight up not good, and Kochetkov is... well, he's Kochetkov. they're not far out of a spot but they'll need a hot hand if they want to get comfy... which i don't expect, frankly. they're good enough to make the playoffs, but they're not really a team that goes on heaters, so they'll be bubble until the end.

Blue Jackets: genuinely not sure they know what they're doing like... okay. from an outside pov they are obviously Tanking. they're bad in every way that matters except for finishing and the standings show it. but also like... they're at the point in their development cycle where they shouldn't be tanking... or at least are on the verge of Shouldn't Be Tanking. and again, because they don't know what they're doing, they hired mike babcock for this... if they know what they're doing they'll toss kekalainen as soon as they can and, following this year's draft, start Fighting. but let's be real i doubt that. adam fantilli it's your time to shine... sorry sweetheart!

Devils: see Hurricanes. Great on paper, can't buy a save. They've obviously been stunted by Timo, J'accuse, and Nico all being injured at various points, but goaltending is their biggest and most solvable problem. Unlike the Hurricanes, though, the Devils are fully capable of going on a heater, so the gap between them and WC2 isn't as big as it looks (probably.) Luke Hughes is going to be something special.

Rangers: Looks like Lafreniere is finally getting his feet under him -- but the Rangers have always been far more about getting old, known players to get a second wind with them than they've been about prospect development, and Quick and Wheeler are both showing this pretty definitively. Another one of those teams that's run by special teams and finishing/goaltending. Easy playoff spot, likely solid run. Nothing too interesting here.

Islanders: On the other hand, the Isles are interesting because... like... how did they get There? They have a negative goal differential, for heaven's sake! Their special teams are godawful, their defence is a sieve, they blow leads like that's what actually gets you points in this league, and they're somehow second in the Metropolitan??????? Is it Horvat? Barzal? Sorokin? (It's probably Sorokin.) They'll make the playoffs but i doubt they'll succeed in them.

Flyers: This one's also weird. They have the power play and offence of a peewee team in the big leagues, but have become defensively Actually Super Competent and are somehow good because of this? I'm going to theorize -- because you've asked me to but also because I really want to -- that this is due, at least in part, to somewhat of an inverse Kane-on-the-Red-Wings effect from their offseason removal of Provorov and DeAngelo; without them, the team is now not only better defensively on paper but also better as a team in the locker room. They're [uncle voice] playing with heart now! I doubt they're a real contender, but I think they might actually make playoffs.

Penguins: ...this one's also weird. They're good on paper. Like, really good on paper? Defensively "just okay" but offensively great, goaltending is fantastic, special teams are shutdown. They just can't buy a goal and they can't buy a good sequence.

Capitals: This one's weird, too, but in the opposite way -- aside from the power-play, the Caps are actually godawful on paper, especially when it comes to finishing (because when Ovechkin takes such a high percentage of your shots but he isn't scoring, your team REALLY suffers) but somehow they've managed to pinpoint sequencing luck (win close, lose ugly) and are somehow in WC1. Do I think they'll make the playoffs? Absolutely not -- if either the Devils or Canes step up, the Caps are the odd man out -- but it might be fun to see them try. Or hell, I hope they win-close-lose-ugly their way to a goddamn Cup final. Would be funny as fuck for Ovi's second-longest ever playoff run to come at the fresh young age of thirty-eight. Dude looks ragged out there. I'm going to shut up now before I start talking about finding him sexy

Coyotes: Simple on paper: bad at running play, good goaltending and finishing. Essentially what the Canucks are doing at a smaller scale. The Leafs should never have let Kerfoot walk and I mean that unironically. Okay, anyway, the Yotes are a bubble team and won't make higher than WC1 because of the logjam at the top of the Central, but holy fuck do I want them to make WC1 (or a playoff spot in general.) People ask "how can we grow the game" a lot, and when it comes to what the NHL can do directly, the number one biggest thing is win in small markets. Arizona has already created one of the sports' biggest stars -- Auston! -- and it's an absolutely massive TV market and a potential hotbed of new fans and new, great players. Arizona making a playoff spot -- or even better, going on a run -- would be amazing for the NHL. And it would be funny. And I would like that.

Blackhawks: shoutout to dave !!! dave who works for the hawks!!! anyway the hawks are very obviously tanking and good at it. Their only real point of interest is their Sacred Child, and holy fuck is their Sacred Child going to absolutely fucking smash it when he's given a team that's not entirely made up of scrubs. i think his analytics, especially his defensive numbers, are, like, fine? but accounting for his leverage (all situations, especially the difficult ones), his teammates (his best linemate is Anthony Beauvillier, and tito... is a third liner), and the fact that he's all of eighteen, he's definitely on track to be a Real Force. i kinda love him... okay moving on.

Avalanche: All-over good: finishing their biggest obvious strength, but hockeywise they don't have any real weaknesses... although there is some serious Drama brewing in that locker room and i think it might just be getting started. with landeskog gone for at least until the end of this year (and possibly forever) and ej a sabre, there is absolutely no one in there capable of actually emotionally running a team: makar lacking in a leader's magnetism, rantanen an idiot, toews and mackinnon far too high-strung and competitive, and no one else with seniority. they're a good enough team that it's not really affecting them right now, but ... i don't know, i can kind of feel it coming. They'll make the playoffs, but when the pressure is on they'll either step up or completely fall apart.

Stars: See above: all-over good, but saving their biggest obvious weakness. I think most of this is spurred by Otter being out -- Wedgewood is a serviceable backup goaltender, but obviously not capable of being a real starter, and the team is stuttering because of it. I doubt it'll be for long or too much difficulty (they're a good defensive team, so it's not going to affect them a lot, but they might lose a game or two they might have won with Otter, especially if he's out for a while), but it's going to keep them from taking a step on top of the Central. Easy playoff team, probable contender.

Wild: They are bad! Penalty kill is their worst weakness, but they're not great in goal either and the combination is kicking their ass. As much as I respect how well they've done with that giant cap-space penalty from the Parise/Suter buyouts all those years ago, it's... kind of time to throw in the towel. Get Flower those final few wins, because by god are they devoid of much other success. Right at the tail of a competitive arc. RIP. Tank incoming.

Predators: Weirdly good, even though Saros hasn't been his usual self? O'Reilly esp has been an absolutely fantastic addition for the team over the offseason. No huge strengths, no significant weaknesses. Not an amazing offensive team, but it's Nashville so they were never going to be -- the place practically breeds defensive forwards and all-around dmen. I don't expect they'll seriously contend, but they'll make the playoffs (unless someone offers the farm for Saros).

Blues: I genuinely think so little about the Blues .... that whole thing with Jordan Kyrou has been the most I've thought about them for a bit. That and the fact that only three of their games haven't been decided by the first goal? They're not good and they're really boring. Yeehaw.

Jets: THE JETS let's get JUICY. Jets' biggest strengths by far are a) 5v5 defence and b) finishing/goaltending. Even with Kyle Connor out they're sniping and Hellebuyck and Brossoit are both absolutely on it. The Jets have always seemed to have this problem where on paper (take a shot every time I've written "on paper" in this post if you want to die of alcohol poisoning) they seem fantastic, then January onwards they absolutely plummet. And it's not January yet, so that might still happen, but that kind of thing tends to happen because of a dramatic morale shift, and now that Lowry's captain and Wheeler's left for New York... that might not happen? They've banked enough points that unless they're historically bad from here on out they're still a playoff team. If they keep up what they have going so far, they're a contender, but if it's the same Winnipeg with the same problems, then they're not.

Ducks: Taking a step in the right direction with Carlsson and Mintyukov, but still bad! I really hope Carlsson recovers well, he seems like a sweet boy. Also: what on Earth are they doing with Zegras. Is he a defenceman now? Are they making him play defence? Are he and Dixie D'Amelio still dating? I have many questions. I just hope whichever high draft pick they get is an idiot. I feel like they need another dumbass baby on the team.

Flames: The Flames also appear to have no idea what's going on. And frankly, neither do I! They're too good to be obviously tanking, but not near good enough to be a bubble team. They're definitely reluctant to sell, but their best hope to win soon absolutely should be selling. They have one of the worst contracts in the league on their payroll (wow... I hope the guy in charge of my favourite team didn't sign that!) and a bunch of really solid late-round picks and prospects cutting their teeth on the NHL. In short: they aren't going to make the playoffs and should be leaning into that, but they don't seem to have realized this yet.

Oilers: For the sake of not gloating, I'm going to sum this one up with a Marek quote: If you have a goalie, it's 70% of your team. If you don't, it's 100%. They've had finishing trouble, but considering they absolutely run the show at 5v5 AND special teams (they put nearly SIXTY SHOTS on Vasilevskiy the other day) a little finishing shouldn't be quite so dangerous if they didn't have two sieves minding the net. McDavid might hit 150 again and the Oil might still miss the playoffs. If they get in, they're going far, but at this point it'll be tough as fuck to make it in.

Kings: Average penalty kill. No other weaknesses. Kopitar 4 Selke.

Sharks: This is an absolutely glorious tankjob. No other way to put it. This is the pinnacle of tank design. This is the Wayne Gretzky of tankjobs. This is the Casablanca of tankjobs. This is the Saturn V of tankjobs. Nothing has been so beautifully engineered to suck since Sir James Dyson patented his vacuum or Nancy Reagan walked the earth. It's beautiful. It's gorgeous. I am in awe. They deserve Celebrini purely because of how flawless the tank is. I don't care if he has a warm undertone and would look pink in that fantastic teal. The boy needs San Jose.

Kraken: Good defensively at 5v5, bad pretty much everywhere else. I'm going to be honest with you all, last year was kind of a flash in the pan -- Seattle isn't great and they're neither headed upwards nor downwards. Not a bubble team, probably won't pick top ten. They haven't decided whether or not to build up or tank. Beyond the fantastic aesthetics and four-unranked-lines shtick, they don't really have a whole lot of competitive mojo: no star forwards, no goaltending. Wholeheartedly mid.

Canucks: oH BABY!!!!! The 23-24 Canucks made us all learn what PDO is. The 23-24 Canucks are first in the motherfucking league after being one spot out of being in the Bedard lottery. The 23-24 Canucks are on track to have the best shooting and saving percentage in league history. The 23-24 Canucks' leading goalscorer is Brock Boeser, the guy they've almost traded practically every year since they drafted him. The 23-24 Canucks started the season by naming the Wettest Little Man On The Planet captain and they haven't looked back since. I think they're an easy lock for a playoff spot -- but within the playoffs, do I know what they're going to do? I absolutely do not. They could PDO their way to a Cup or they could bow out in four games flat. Either is equally likely. They have thoroughly embraced Good Chaos. Quinn Hughes might win the Hart. Everything's coming up Vancouver.

Golden Knights: Not as good as they were last year. Ultimately still pretty good. Easy playoff spot. Definite contender. Jack Eichel is better than ever and I love him for it, the dickhead.

[haveyoureadthistransbook]

The Woods All Black by Lee Mandelo

goodreads

Leslie Bruin is assigned to the backwoods township of Spar Creek by the Frontier Nursing Service, under its usual mandate: vaccinate the flock, birth babies, and weather the judgements of churchy locals who look at him and see a failed woman. Forged in the fires of the Western Front and reborn in the cafes of Paris, Leslie believes he can handle whatever is thrown at him—but Spar Creek holds a darkness beyond his nightmares. Something ugly festers within the local congregation, and its malice has focused on a young person they insist is an unruly tomboy who must be brought to heel. Violence is bubbling when Leslie arrives, ready to spill over, and he'll have to act fast if he intends to be of use. But the hills enfolding Spar Creek have a mind of their own, and the woods are haunted in ways Leslie does not understand. The Woods All Black is a story of passion, prejudice, and power — an Appalachian period piece that explores reproductive justice and bodily autonomy, the terrors of small-town religiosity, and the necessity of fighting tooth and claw to live as who you truly are.

Mod opinion: I haven't read this book yet, but it sounds really, really interesting!

[mediaevalmusereads]

The Woods All Black. By Lee Mandelo. Tor, 2024.

Rating: 2.5/5 stars

Genre: horror, novella

Series: N/A

Summary: Leslie Bruin is assigned to the backwoods township of Spar Creek by the Frontier Nursing Service, under its usual mandate: vaccinate the flock, birth babies, and weather the judgements of churchy locals who look at him and see a failed woman. Forged in the fires of the Western Front and reborn in the cafes of Paris, Leslie believes he can handle whatever is thrown at him—but Spar Creek holds a darkness beyond his nightmares.

Something ugly festers within the local congregation, and its malice has focused on a young person they insist is an unruly tomboy who must be brought to heel. Violence is bubbling when Leslie arrives, ready to spill over, and he'll have to act fast if he intends to be of use. But the hills enfolding Spar Creek have a mind of their own, and the woods are haunted in ways Leslie does not understand.

The Woods All Black is a story of passion, prejudice, and power — an Appalachian period piece that explores reproductive justice and bodily autonomy, the terrors of small-town religiosity, and the necessity of fighting tooth and claw to live as who you truly are.

***Full review below.***

CONTENT WARNINGS: misgendering, transphobia, misogyny, explicit sexual content, death in childbirth, implied sexual assault, violence, blood

OVERVIEW: This is another one of those books that I can't remember how I learned about it, but I decided to pick it up because I was in the mood for some queer horror. Unfortunately, this novella didn't quite live up to my expectations. While there were some elements that I enjoyed, as a whole, I wasn't really pleased with the shape of the narrarive or the prose. As a result, I can only award this book 2.5 stars.

WRITING: Mandelo's prose is ok. It's not bad and you can get through it quickly, if you want, but it's not exactly memorable, either. I don't intend to be mean - I just prefer my horror stories to be atmospheric with an overwhelming sense of dread, and in my opinion, this book was too heavy-handed and didn't quite unsettle me as much as I wanted.

I also think there were some missed opportunities to show versus tell. This is a novella, so I understand that space is limited, but I felt as if I was being told a lot of things as opposed to shown them so that the author could include more stuff.

PLOT: The plot of this book follows Leslie Buin, a trans nurse who is assigned a post in the secluded Appalacian town of Spar Creek. Tasked with getting the population vaccinated and assisting with maternal care, Leslie finds his efforts rejected due to the town's bigotry. But rather than leave, he risks his safety in order to help another young transman, Stevie, who is being harassed by the locals.

On the one hand, there were individual things about this plot that I liked. I liked the impulse for queer people to look out for one another and I liked the way Stevie used his abilities to express agency over his body.

However, I also think this book tried to take on too much. It taps into a number of themes such as reproductive justice, religious bigotry, antivaccination attitudes, self expression, etc and only really delivers on one of those things. In the end, the book felt less like a reflection on any given theme through the horror genre and more like a revenge fantasy. All well and good, but I think the marketing should have reflected that.

CHARACTERS: Leslie, our protagonist, is sympathetic in that he is a transman trying to do his best to care for people, but there came a point when I didn't feel like his motivations were strong enough. He didn't strike me as someone particularly passionate about nursing or care work, and even though he sticks around to help a fellow queer kid, I wish more was done to develop a sense of kinship between the two. By the end, I wasn't sure what Leslie's arc was supposed to be, and maybe there was just too much going on to be one, cohesive story.

Stevie, the 18 year old trans kid, was also sympathetic in that he is a trans kid in a hostile environment. I liked his independent streak and ability to take care of himself, and I didn't necessarily begrudge him his desire for revenge. However, it did feel like he was drawn to Leslie just because he was another trans person, and while fine, I do wish there was more of an emotional connection outside of trans identity.

Antagonists were ok. Personally, I think the bigotry of the town was too brazen too fast; there wasn't much time to build dread or ramp up the anxiety. I also think the pastor was a bit of a caricature and Stevie's pursuer was too off-screen to feel like a real threat. In the end, I was just kind of feeling like there was little nuance to the town and it didn't build enough to feel like things were changing over time.

TL;DR: While I can appreciate the queer revenge arc of this story, the writing style wasn't anything special (in my opinion) and the narrarive didn't explore it's themes as well as it could have.

[troublesomemix]

writermuses:

-

Henri draped his arm over Persephone’s shoulder as they walked. His free hand poked her playfully in the stomach. “I forgot you really knew how to pack it in there, tiny.” He brushed her hair from her face and unwrapped her from his arm solely to take her hand. “C’mon then. Let’s get dessert. I know the exact place for a tour of Boston and dessert.” Mike’s wasn’t far from TD Garden or the bar they just left. The North End of Boston was a maze Henrik knew like the back of his hand. Still, after a game, even just a pre-season game, the city was packed with fans in jerseys. They’d made it through the crowded sidewalks well enough, but for her sake, Henri had taken her hand so that they wouldn’t be split up. It was a definite perk that at 6′3 he stuck out enough for people to move out of his way.

When they made it to Mike’s a decent amount of people were huddled outside waiting. He looked down at her and almost decided to bail, but what was the point of being locally famous if you couldn’t use it to one’s advantage? “Just wait here a sec.” Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, he went inside and there was immediate cheering from the staff and a second wave from the patrons. Mike’s was a staple, so were the Bruins and as they made room for him in a small table for two, he shook a few hands, took a few pictures, and went back to get his girl. “All right, nothing a little schmoozing can’t do to get you nice things. I’ll probably get the cannoli but every dessert here is amazing. You get whatever you want, it’s my treat. You want one bite of everything, trust me it’ll be worth it.”

“ I have to maintain all this energy somehow. ” she teased right back, eyes blinking dramatically with the lilt of her voice. There went that blush again, and the redhead wasn’t sure whether she was thankful of her bright hair or more opposed to it and the results it helped to create on her face. she, honestly, had no idea where they were headed ( how could she? ) but she was willing to trust the journey. Locals had to know the best spots, right? She hadn’t even offered up a joke at the amount of people in front of her, willing to see what Henri’s plans were. Persephone’s skirt blew against her thighs in the breeze, watching all the people and trying to see what they could see from her little position. The cheering caught her by surprise, but she just shoved her hands into her coat pockets, trying to see from her small stature. Not much luck there. She really was along for the ride, ready for any little piece of adventure she could take back home with her. Following Henri’s lead, she kept her head down as needed where they could make their way to a little table.

 “ Cute. Thanks for being willing to sell yourself for a few minutes. Gives me a taste of how fame looks for you. ” At this point, Persephone was very much aware of how much her heart was still beating and how very much she was trying to keep it on the down low. It was why she continued to tease, because she was internally freaking out and not quite sure what else to do instead. Jokes came easy. Him getting a table really was a nice gesture. “ You're the one who’s giving the tour, so I trust your personal recommendation. Just know that you’ll take full blame if it's bad. ” And with that came her signature grin once more. The florist was willing to try just about anything, but she wasn’t afraid to give her opinion. She had to be. Her expressions usually shot across her face before she could hide them, so she had long ago stopped trying. 

[ppgpaintitblackandgold]

Thoughts on the Playoffs

Or: Why I'd find it boring to watch a Sharks v. Bruins final

(Note: this is made before game 4 of the Canes v. Bruins)

So, I've only gotten into the NHL this year (around December), so everything is still a little new with me. But I've latched on to something this playoffs; "What would make a good narrative?"

Now, this might seem odd to some, but I really do take into consideration if the story would be good when thinking of the finals. Yes, I know that's not how it works but it's fun to come up with these. Sure, I'm a Pens fan, but it wouldn't have been as fun if they made it this year. Caps, while interesting that they would've had a back to back, I dont find it that much fun. Same with the Lighting and their winning streak. Just expected. No... intrigue for a winning team to keep winning, at least for me.

I think this reasoning is what made me latch on to the Wild Card teams. While yes, I was already a fan of the Canes (started in February), it was interesting to see these teams that no one believed in make it past farther than expected. Heck, I would even rope the Blues into this, seeing them in last place halfway through the season. Teams like that just give an underdog side to it, showing that anyone can make it.

Now, it's not looking hot for the Canes right now. They might get swept, but even if they do they had an awesome playoff run. That would leave, however, the Boston Bruins. Now I cant for the life of me even try to think of a narrative they're trying to run with for this cup run. That, for me, just seems like an empty win. With the Canes, who barely made the playoffs being a Wild Card team, there seems to be more of a reason to support them, especially since some people (Don Cherry *cough cough*) made fun of their attempts and success of getting people to their games with the Storm Surges. A classic underdog.

With the Blues, it's even more obvious, being last in the NHL for however long. With bits of doubt thrown at them. And they also have the perk of Patrick Maroon being a Game 7 overtime winner. However, their underdog persona has been removed a bit after... uh... that certain goal... but it could be more egregious, like with the NHL pushing for the Sharks.

Now I get where there's a narrative with the Sharks, with trying to get vet Joe Thornton the Cup.

But holy shit is the NHL trying to push this. Game 7 v. The Knights, game deciding call, Game 7 v. the Avs, game deciding call, both in the Sharks favor. I swear if there's another Game 7 deciding call for the Sharks I might actually blow a fuse. That's not luck after that. It's the League trying to push a Sharks v. Bruins Final on us. That would be ridiculous. And judging from how the whole the team that got swept was swept by the team who swept this team who in turn was swept by the team who blah blah blah... the West coast conference winner will get the Cup. It probably won't happen, but then again did anyone see the reigning cup champs and the president's trophy winners being taken out in the first round? Like I think the only way anyone could have gotten the 2nd round right was if a Blues fan pick their team, the other 2nd seeded teams and all the wild cards to advance.

So judging from, everything that worked the Sharks way, it seems like the NHL is just giving them this Cup. And if you want a narrative, where's the fun in that?

So, I hope that the Canes come back tonight for a reverse sweep and the Blues win against the Sharks for a better Stanley Cup Final faceoff, rather than the expected Sharks v. Bruins. But life doesnt work that way, and sometimes you take what you get.

This is just something that's been on my mind for a while, so if you agree, hey, that's cool. Or if you dont, hey, that's fine too. I'm fine with whatever team wins, but... I hope a good story comes from it.

[bqstqnbruin]

Aerosmith

Alright, y'all: here's that fic that I'm low key scared no one is going to read that has taken me a few months to write, a Trent x single mom!reader fic

It's a long one, with the Bruin's feral little fighty boy from St. Louis, around 13.3k words. The songs listed as the headers of each section are all by Aerosmith, each part partially inspired by the song (hence the name of the fic)

Shoutout to @toplinetommy for helping me with this the entire time and being my beta AND to @chara-hugs for letting me bounce ideas off of you and talking through what I was thinking of. Love you lots 💛

I hope people like this

___________

Just Push Play

Considering how much was happening around you at the bar your friends had dragged you to, the only thing that could keep your attention was your phone. It was the only thing, at this point, that you would allow to keep your attention. You had no desire to be there. Part of you wanted your phone to start buzzing, anything that would give you an excuse for you to leave, but the other part of you knew that something bad had to happen in order for you to leave. Every second that you stayed was costing you more money and less time being where you wanted to be.

“Hey, Y/N, put the phone away. This is your first night out in, like, years,” Molly tells you.

“Four years. Maybe five?” you guess.

“Six years, exactly,” she wrongly says, earning a disappointed head shake from you, a small ‘no’ escaping your lips that goes ignored as she takes your hand that’s holding the phone. “Can we please just enjoy tonight and have some fun? He’s going to be fine.”

You take in a deep breath, almost sure she was right about that. You hadn’t had a night to yourself in years, and Molly was also almost right that this was your first one in over four years. Actually, given the timeline, it was probably more like five. “But what if something happens?” you ask, the natural worry and constant fear you felt taking over your ability to just enjoy the night.

“If something, anything happens, you’ll be able to feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, and I will go home with you to take care of it,” she reassures you, playing around with the settings on your phone. She hands it back to you, pulling you up from the table you had yet to move from in the first place. “He’s fine. He always is. Why don’t you request a song?”

“Because you keep telling me you hate my music.”

“Well, that’s because you have the same music taste as your sixty-something-year-old father when you’re a twenty-something-year-old woman.”

“You don’t even know how old I am? We’re the same age.” Molly rolls her eyes at you, dragging you up to the line of people to request songs, a book sitting there with the songs you could request. “They’re not going to have anything I like,” you tell her as the line behind you gets longer.

“Don’t you listen to that one guy?” she starts.

“That could mean anything. Have I told you lately that you are the most unhelpful person I know?” you snap at her, trying to find anything in your Spotify that you could request as the line got shorter and shorter in front of you. “What about this song?” you ask, your finger hovering over someone from one of your Daily Mixes. Molly looks over your shoulder at your phone, shaking her head at your song choice, and every song choice that you suggested. “I’m just going back to the table, you’re being impossible.”

Before she can protest, you turn around and head back to your table, sitting off to the side away from the rest of your friends, your eyes glued to your phone. At this point, you were praying that you would get a message from Rachel asking you to come home, telling you that something was wrong. Even something as simple as she had to leave unexpectedly so you could, too. Anything so that you could leave sooner rather than later.

“Sorry, but you really couldn’t find a song in that book?” you hear a guy's voice, tearing you away from the screen. He sits down next to you, not too close that it was uncomfortable but just close enough that you could smell his cologne, covering the smell of beer that had been lingering in the air around you. “There was some Aerosmith in there, I have a feeling that’s the closest to something you’d enjoy,” he says, smiling at you.

He must have been in the group that was in line behind you, hearing your conversation with Molly. Regardless, you smile back at him, something about his own being so infectious that you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. “Well, you’re right, but it depends on what Aerosmith song,” you respond, a hint of flirting in your voice.

“Is there a bad one?”

“No, but there are some superior ones,” you tell him, his eyebrow cocked as a sign to get you to explain. “Sweet Emotion is great but not as good as their cover of Come Together. Dream On and I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing are easily, in my opinion, their best songs.”

“Is that up for debate?”

“Oh, you think their most popular songs aren’t their best?”

“I think the one that’s about to play is one of their best,” the guy says, both of you pausing as there’s a lull in the music, the chatter and screaming of the bar’s drunk patrons overtaking everything.

“Just Push Play?” you ask, a smile on your face. It wasn’t one of their most well-known songs, but you still had to admit it was an underrated one.

The boy shrugs, a smirk on his face. “I might have requested it so you’ll have a reason to dance with me,” he flirts, getting up and extending his hand for you to join him.

You hesitate, unsure if you should get up with this mystery man standing in front of you. There was something about him that you couldn’t figure out. He looked young, probably younger than you but looks can be deceiving, nevertheless telling you that there was some sort of innocence or naivety to him, but the obviously fit physique under his clothing telling you that he could and would break your heart in a moment if he had to, the time leading up to that would be like nothing you had experienced before. You didn’t have time or the energy to spend on something you knew would lead to heartbreak, but you felt like you wanted to, like you had to. “I’m not sure I can dance with someone whose name I don’t even know.”

“I’m Trent,” he says, taking your hand and guiding you away from the table. You introduce yourself as his hands snake their way around your waist, holding you close enough that you could feel his heart starting to race against your own chest as your hands met the skin at the back of his neck, your fingers grazing along the collar of the back of his shirt, the two of you not moving at all in sync with the faster beat of the song. Not that you cared. There was something about this boy you were talking to talk to over the music that made you completely disregard the movement around you, forgetting about your phone and what was waiting for you at home for the first time in nearly five years.

You danced for what felt like forever, for what you wanted to last forever, every song passing you by as he listed out song after song that he recognized, most of them country as he claimed he had a country playlist that went on for seven hours, all of them involving him trying to sing bits and pieces of the lyrics off-key, every time pulling a laugh from you.

“I don’t know what I like more,” he starts, resting his forehead against yours as the space between the two of you disappeared, “the music they’re playing or your laugh.”

You roll your eyes, a smile on your face as the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Those lines usually don’t work on me.”

“But?” he asks, his lips ghosting yours.

“But from you, they do,” you tell him, planting your lips on his before he has the chance to say anything else. You didn’t know what it was about Trent; you were never the one to make the first move, you barely interacted with guys at this point since your life was permanently hectic. But Trent was something else. You don’t know what Trent was, you just knew he was different.

His hands were on your back, finding their way to your waist, his grip tightening when you feel someone tap your shoulder. You pull away, a pout on Trent’s face as you turn around to see Molly, waving your phone in your face. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh, shoot!” you squeal, taking your phone. “I’m sorry, I have to get home.”

A confused look covers Trent’s face. “Is your Uber going to turn into a pumpkin if you aren’t home, Cinderella?”

You laugh at his joke, going back to your table to grab your stuff. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, “But I really have to get home.”

“Let me walk you.”

You stop in your tracks as you were rushing out the door. You never brought a guy anywhere near your apartment, knowing that most of them would want to go in, most of them would want to sleep with you if you invited them, most of them would be gone by morning when they found out why you didn’t want them there in the first place. You don’t know why you knew Trent would be different. “No, you don’t have to,” you tell him, instead, even though you wish you could bring him home with you.

Before he can answer, someone calls out his name, pulling the two of you away from each other’s attention. “Trent, we’re leaving.”

Trent looks between you and his friend, the group of guys aggregating around him as they wait for his answer.

“You don’t have to,” you repeat, trying to get out the door because you had to.

“Jack, give me a minute,” Trent calls to his friends, “I want to,” he tells you, taking your arm, turning you towards him. The look in his eyes was sincere, begging you to let him walk you home. “Please?”

You let out a sigh, caving in even though you knew you shouldn’t. “Fine, yeah. Let’s go,” you tell him, taking his hand and leading him out of the bar, his friends left without an answer as they watched the two of you walk away.

Come Together

“I’ve had a really great night. Sorry about my friends, though” Trent apologizes to you again. He explained that he had gone out with them after their game that night, supposed to be spending their off-day tomorrow together, but Trent leaving with you had seemingly changed those plans. As the two of you walked and talked on the way back, his hand never left yours, from the time you left the bar to now standing outside your door. He pulls you in for another kiss, the worries of what was on the other side of the door melting away. You wanted to invite him in, but you weren’t sure if he would even want to once he found out.

Your door opens, Rachel stepping out. “Sorry, it’s almost curfew.”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” you tell her, Trent confused by the girl sneaking out of your apartment. “That was Rachel. She’s my babysitter.”

“Babysitter?”

You could feel your face twisting involuntarily at his question. You knew you should have told him before you got home, it would have been easier leaving him at the bar than watching him walk away from you outside your door. Why did you even let him walk you home in the first place? Because he’s hot and you’re dumb, that’s why. “I have a four-year-old son. If you wanted to leave, I would understand. Most guys do when I tell them about Ben,” you spit out, not making eye contact with him. You weren’t ashamed of your son, you just knew people your age got weirded out and panicked at the thought of the responsibility that came with having a child.

He tilts your head up, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips, a lazy smile on his face. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to stay?”

“If you’ll have me,” he says, kissing you yet again. You bring him inside, showing him Ben’s room first. The two of you stand in the doorway, his arms wrapped around your waist as you lean against the door frame. You feel him kiss the back of your head as you watch Ben wriggle in his sheets before settling down, you taking Trent’s hand and leading him down to your room. You tell him that you don’t want to do anything because of Ben being so close, Trent giving you a sweet smile, kissing you before settling next to you in bed. You had no idea why, but it all felt so domestic, so right that he was there with you in that moment.

“Can I ask you something?” his voice pierces the silence that had fallen between you.

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you mention Ben before?”

You swallow hard. You weren’t ashamed of having Ben, something you found yourself repeating in your mind every time you told a guy about your son. He was the best part of your life. Everything you did was for him. “We’re young. Being a single mom at our age has such a stigma around it. When guys find out, they normally bolt. I didn’t want you to until the last possible second.” You turn to him, still able to make out his features in the dark, the pout that was forming on his face visible without anything lighting him up.

“You could have told me before we got here,” he says, pain in his voice as he reaches for your face, the pad of his thumb gently grazing over your cheek. “I don’t care if you have a kid. I mean, I do, Ben is part of who you are. But, I would have understood. I understand. You shouldn’t be afraid of telling someone about that part of you. What I know about you so far is pretty amazing, I can only imagine what Ben brings to the table.”

“That seems weirdly out of character for what I know about you,” you tease him, pulling a smile from him.

“Well, maybe, but even a stopped clock is right twice a day, right?”

You kiss him, a feeling of relief washing over you at his words. The two of you spend the rest of the night telling each other about yourselves, keeping quiet for Ben, despite the amount of laughter you let you. You couldn’t remember the last time a guy made you feel so happy, falling asleep with a smile on your face, his arms wrapped around your waist as if that’s where they belonged.

You wake up the next morning, the sun shining into your room, but no Trent. You get out of bed, probably figuring that he had left in the middle of the night, trying to spare your feelings about you having a son. You understood. What guy really wants to get into a relationship with a single mom at this age?

You go to check on Ben, opening the door to his bedroom to find that he wasn’t in his room. You started to panic at the sight of his empty bed, unmade with his blankets in disarray. If Trent was gone, and Ben was gone, where could they be? He wouldn’t kidnap your son, would he? He was a professional athlete, that’s not something he would do, right? Your panic starts to recede when you hear laughter coming from the kitchen.

Trent is standing at the stove, spatula in hand with eggs cooking on the stove, a piece of bread held up to his face with holes bitten out of it where his eyes are, making Ben shriek with laughter. “Sorry. I heard him get up and I didn’t want to wake you, so I started making breakfast. Is that ok?”

You can’t help but smile, going over to Ben. “How’s he doing so far?”

“Mommy, look! French toast!” Ben says, pointing excitedly to the cut-up pieces of bread on his plate.

“French toast?” you repeat, your eyes wide to play along with his excitement. “Give me a bite,” you tell him, opening your mouth as he picks up a piece with his fingers, nearly missing your mouth. You hear Trent laugh, you not containing your own.

You go over to Trent, leaning into him as the two of you watch Ben eat the food Trent made. You feel him kiss the top of your head, his fingers dancing up and down along your arm. You look at his hand, a bandaid on the back of his hand. “What happened to you here?”

“Oh, oops,” he says, looking at his hand. “Got a little cut, but don’t worry, it’s not bad. Dr. Ben here fixed me right up,” he tells you, going over to Ben and ruffling his hair.

Trent hands you a plate of french toast and eggs, pouring you a cup of coffee, kissing you in front of Ben, who either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. No guy had ever stayed the night, let alone stayed and made breakfast for the two of you the next morning.

“So, what were you two talking about before I joined?” you ask, taking another bite of the French Toast. You already knew it was good from what Ben gave you, but you were still devouring it.

“Bears, boots, and battles of galaxias,” Ben lets out, his full mouth spraying crumbs everywhere.

“I’ve been trying to make sense of that all morning. I have no idea what he means. Why does that sound familiar?” Trent asks, sitting down next to you, his hand on your thigh under the table, sending a chill through your entire body as his fingers lazily traced an unknown pattern on your skin.

You take a sip of the coffee he had handed you, setting down your cup and putting your hand on top of his under the table. “He saw that one part of the Office, the identity theft cold opening, where Jim says, ‘Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica?’ That’s how he remembered it,” you explain, Trent looking over to your son who was fixated on the food in front of him.

“Benny,” Trent calls him, your entire body going numb hearing him call him the same nickname you used for your son, “do you like bears?”

“Bears are the coolest!” he squeals. Everything he saw with a bear on it, he would start begging you to buy him, your heart breaking from the look on his face when you had to tell him no, we don’t need the kitchen towel just because it has a bear on it.

“Can you do your best bear impression for Mom and I?” You felt your heart skip at the sound of Trent calling referring to you as just ‘Mom’ instead of ‘your mom,’ like he was already part of the family. You didn’t even hear Ben growling, his best attempt at being the ‘scary’ Baby Bear that he was just laughing along with Trent.

“Hey, buddy, what if I called you Benny Bear from now on? Do you like that?” Trent asks, Ben nodding excitedly at his nickname.

“You’re nice,” Ben says to Trent while he clears his plate, Ben running off to go play.

You look at Trent, not able to help how you were beaming at him getting along so well with your son. It was like he belonged there with you, and with Ben, making his presence that much better. “That means he likes you.”

“Not trying to pry,” Trent starts, standing beside you at the sink while you wash the dishes, “But how often does he like the guys you bring home?”

You bite your bottom lip, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “I almost never bring guys home. And when I do, he generally doesn’t talk to them.”

“So he likes me,” he starts, getting closer to you as you nod your head. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you away from the sink. “How about you?”

“That depends,” you flirt, stretching to turn the sink off before draping your arm on his shoulders, twirling his hair through your fingers at the nape of his neck, “do you like me?”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you in for a kiss. “I do.”

“I like you, too. Help me finish cleaning up and then we’ll go watch Ben, ok?”

The two of you wash dishes in silence, weirdly domestic and comfortable considering you knew this boy all of twelve hours. “Can I ask you something?” Trent breaks the silence, just as he did the night before.

“Sure.”

“Where’s Ben’s dad?” You take in a deep breath, knowing that this would have come up eventually. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he continues, a wash of panic over his face at the thought of asking something too personal too soon.

You shake your head, smiling at him to try to calm him down. “No, no, that’s fine. Um, we were together when we were in college, but we broke up. I started feeling like shit so I went to the doctor and she told me, ‘Congrats! You’re two months pregnant!’”

“Does he know about Ben?” Trent asks quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, he does. I told him when I found out because I knew Ben was his. I told him that I was going to keep the baby and since we weren’t together anymore, he had the choice of either being present and helping out or if he didn’t want the responsibility, then that was fine, too.”

He didn’t know what about the way you were talking was making him feel this way. A lump in his throat was forming looking at your eyes start to shine with the threat of tears while you refused to make eye contact with him. You rarely talked about Ben’s father, making the decision a long time ago that he wasn’t worth your time thinking about since he didn’t want much to do with his own son. “And he didn’t?”

“He sends a present to Ben on his birthdays and Christmas, but other than that nothing really. I’m not even sure if Ben’s made the connection between the presents and his father yet. Like I said, though, I gave him the choice.”

“Do you regret anything?”

“I could never regret Ben or anything with him. I almost regret giving his father the choice, though. Being a parent isn’t easy, even if you have someone to take up half the work, but it’s even harder when it’s just you by yourself, you know? And I’ve gotten help, but it would be different if Ben had his dad as a constant in his life. Ben’s only seen him a few times, anyway. He calls him Andy instead of dad, and it’s just,” you stop, trying to find the word, “heartbreaking seems too severe, seeing him not acknowledge his dad as his dad, but what can you do?”

Trent didn’t know what to say. He was practically still a child himself when you really look at him. He couldn’t imagine having his own at this point in his life, let alone raising one on his own. “I’m sorry,” is all he can get out, trying not to cry even though he could hear Ben’s laughter ringing from the other room, sending a weird sense of joy through him at the same time.

“No, it’s fine. I would rather do this alone than do this with someone who didn’t want Ben to begin with. You can’t be a parent if you aren’t all in.”

He had no idea why, but he already felt so connected to Ben. There was no reason why, but he did. “I’m in.”

You turn back to him, shocked, confused, not even sure if you heard what he said properly. “What?”

“I’m in with you. With Ben. If you’ll let me. I want to see you again, keep seeing you. And that includes Ben. He already likes me, after all.” Trent was used to making snap decisions, on the ice, off the ice, wherever. He knew this was one, but this one felt like his best one.

“You don’t have to, you have your own life with hockey and everything,” you try to insist, cut off by Trent’s lips connecting with yours.

“I want to. Let’s go play with Ben.”

Angel

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask him for what was probably the millionth time, getting out of his car in front of the rink.

He runs around to get Ben out of his car seat, you grabbing the stuff he had stashed in the trunk. “Yes, I promise it is. The guys bring their kids all the time and they’re way younger than Ben.” He had invited you and Ben to the family skate the team was having, you reluctant to go since Ben had never been skating before. Naturally, you were worried he would get hurt, either by falling down or being curious about the skate and somehow cutting himself, something you were sure he would do if given the chance.

You two had been together for about a month, Ben falling head over heels for Trent, jumping up and down whenever he saw him on TV. Much to your dismay, Ben loved it when Trent was fighting, begging you to let him play hockey so he could fight just like Trent. You loved taking videos of his excitement despite that fear of him skating and fighting like Trent, sending them to him to see during the game, Trent always making sure to FaceTime you the next afternoon when you got home from work if you two couldn’t meet up so that he could talk to Ben. He was acting like the dad Ben never had.

And that was terrifying to you. The thought of you and Trent breaking up and him suddenly leaving Ben’s life was the reason why you never got close with a guy before. You didn’t want Ben to go through that. You didn’t want to go through that.

But there you were, sitting rinkside at the Garden as you tried to tie up the skates that Trent got for Ben, his feet swinging back and forth in excitement no matter how much you tried to get him to stop for a moment.

“Are you excited, Benny Bear?” Trent asks, picking him up and walking out to the ice.

“Yeah!” he says, squirming around and clearly ready to go.

You weren’t sure if you were more nervous about Ben being on the ice for the first time, Trent already showing him how to skate, or you formally meeting all his teammates for the first time, that night at the bar not really counting. The three of you step onto the ice, Ben in between you two, practically swinging in the air as you both held his hands while you skate.

“You’re nervous?” Trent asks, reading the expression on your face.

“They look like they didn’t know about Ben.” You saw the looks you were getting from the guys' families as you and Trent were skating around with Ben between you. You knew they were looks of confusion, but you couldn't help but think that they were the same looks when you went out with Ben in general, the societal disapproval of being a young mother, no ring on that finger to show that this was planned with another parent on the other side. People were judgemental; it was in their nature, but you were hoping Trent’s teammates were accepting like Trent had been.

“Um, I guess I didn’t tell them? I didn’t think I needed to,” he says, looking down at your son. Ben was beaming, not paying attention to what you two were talking about, not that he would probably understand it if he was. Trent didn’t think it would be a big deal to have your son around. The guys knew he was seeing you, but was it really that big a deal that you have Ben? He looks over at you, the scared look that was on your face worrying him. “We can just tell him he’s your nephew or your little brother?” he whispers so Ben doesn’t hear.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You don’t seem to want them to know he’s your son?”

You stop skating, pulling Trent over to the side while holding onto Ben’s hand as he begs to pull away and take a lap on his own, something you weren’t going to let him do. “I told you I’m not ashamed of Ben,” you hiss at him.

“I’m not saying that you are. I’m just saying if you’re scared of what people would think we could just tell them something else.”

You look at him for a moment, trying to properly process his words. “Am I scared of what people think, or are you?”

He steps back, careful not to fall on whoever's kid was zooming past him at that moment, Ben begging to go skate with him. “Hey, Zach,” he calls Patrice’s son over. “If he takes Ben is that ok?”

You knew you shouldn’t say yes, but you didn’t need Ben hearing this conversation, no matter how oblivious he might have been to begin with. “If you trust him, fine.”

“Zach,” Trent starts, crouching down to their level, his hands on Ben’s shoulders so he can’t skate away before he’s done, “Can you take care of my guy Ben here? Make sure he doesn’t fall? Go skate to your dad.” Zach and Ben practically rush off with each other to Zach’s dad, eager to skate around and surprisingly good for their age. “What do you mean I’m scared?”

“Who’s the one suggesting that we don’t tell your teammates that Ben is my son? We’ve been out together when people ask if he’s my brother, my nephew, if I’m his nanny, and every single time you’ve seen me correct them. I told you I’m not ashamed of Ben. And to come here and have everyone giving us looks because they’re trying to figure out who he is to you makes it seem like you are. You couldn’t even tell the guys you claim are like your family about Ben. He’s not old enough for that hurt, but I am.”

He looks down at the ice, shuffling back and forth on his skates. “I’m sorry.”

You move closer to him, tempted to reach out and hold him. He looked just as hurt as you felt, part of you glad that he was actually showing he was sympathetic instead of just saying it. “Are you ashamed of Ben?”

His head snaps to you, a look of disbelief on his face. He starts shaking his head, the curls on his head that were loose enough going wild with his movement. “I’m crazy about that kid. I know why you aren’t ashamed of him because I don’t think I could ever be.” Trent turns around to find Ben on the ice, skating around with the other kids, some of the guys playing a small game with them, Ben with his own little stick. He watches Ben score on whoever was playing goalie, Ben shrieking with joy. Trent couldn’t help but smile, turning to you. “He means more to me than I thought someone else's child could.”

“Then why didn’t you tell them about Ben?” you ask him.

He shrugs, sticking out his bottom lip. “Because I’m dumb.”

You can’t help but laugh, hooking your fingers in his belt loops to pull him close to you. “Well, I do call you a stupid muppet,” you joke, earning a groan from him, “Hey, I say it with affection and you did say I could call you that.”

He cups your face and kisses you, momentarily forgetting his teammates and their families around you. “We could go tell them now?” he suggests, his forehead pressed against yours.

“Do you want to?”

Trent starts skating over to the rest of the guys, Ben giggling and playing with the rest of the kids. The two of you start talking to his teammates, introducing yourself to Jack and Jeremy, keeping your eye on Ben while he plays as you wait for Trent to finally say something about him.

“Trent! Trent!” Ben’s voice tears you two away from the conversation. “I’m you!” he yells, using the stick to try to shoot the puck, instead missing the puck and falling down on the ice. He was trying to process what just happened, hopefully not meaning to do what he did.

You look at Trent’s face, his teammates laughing while his face turned red. Ben shoots back up and starts skating again, Trent beaming at him. “That was cold,” he says to you, a smile on his face anyway.

“You know he didn’t mean it,” you tell him, squeezing his bicep before skating over to your son. You lift him up off the ice, thankful that he was still small enough to do that as you kiss his cheek and skate around with just him for a bit.

Trent couldn’t take his eyes off you, his teammates doing everything they could to try to peel his attention away from you. He watched you interact with Ben, the same light in your eyes when he looked at your son.

“Dude?” Jack finally succeeds in bringing Trent back down to Earth, “is that her brother?”

Trent shakes his head, turning back to you. “Nope, that’s her son.”

“Son? What are you thinking?” Jack asked. He knew what he meant. Trent was young. You were young. Having a kid was something real adults did, not whatever definition of adult he fell under.

Trent shrugs, watching you and Ben laugh and smile as you skated around, talking with some of the guys' girlfriends as they coo over Ben. “I’ve been better since I started seeing her.”

“You were fine before you started seeing her,” one of them mumbles.

He rolls his eyes, turning back to them. “Come on. I was fine but I wasn’t great. All I did was punch a few guys and get a couple of secondary assists. Even Butch said something about my play last game. Everything in my life is better with Y/N in it. And Ben.”

He didn’t hear what the guys were saying, and honestly, he didn’t care either. He loved your son, probably not as much as you did, but he felt like he was getting there. He wanted to get there.

Because he loved you.

Dream On

“Where are you?” Molly's voice comes through your phone, panicked and irritated. “I thought you were coming in today?”

“What are you talking about? Today’s my day off.” You were at home, sitting on the couch with the tv playing in the background while Ben played with his toys in front of you. It was one of the rare days that you could spend from the time you woke up until you went to sleep with your son, and you had no real intention of changing those plans, which is what it sounded like Molly was going to ask you to do.

“Well, you know that funding we secured for that new project?”

“Yeah?” you say, Ben coming up to you, trying to show you something. “Hold on, Benny. What’s going on, Mol?”

“They’re getting cold feet.”

“You’re joking.”

“No, we need you here. You and DeAndre were the ones who got them in the first place, and he’s already here. Please?”

You take in a deep breath, trying to figure out if anyone is free to watch Ben. You couldn’t bring him in and have him running around the office while you were trying to convince a major investor to give you the money promised. “I have to find a babysitter but I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you sigh, wracking your brain as to who would be free. Rachel couldn’t typically do weekends, but maybe she could if you promised to pay her extra? But then there was the issue of: did you have the money to pay her extra?

You start scrolling through your contacts, trying to figure out if anyone in there would be able to watch your son, running into your room to get changed to look at least a little presentable.

Trent’s name pops up, calling you with what you hoped would be somewhat perfect timing. “Hey, babe, what’s up?” you answer, your phone on your bed as you try to find something to wear.

“What am I looking at?”

“I’m changing for work and my phone is on my bed, so the ceiling.”

“I thought it was your day off?” he asks as you throw what seemed to be the only clean work shirt that you could find. You knew you were forgetting to do something today, now you realized it was laundry.

“Molly called saying that I need to go in and now I have to find someone to watch Ben or else I’m going to have to bring him in with me, which doesn’t seem like a good idea. And most of my friends are from work or have their own lives and can’t watch him, Rachel can’t do weekends, but I guess I could ask her if she has any friends who could watch him last minute.”

“Y/N.”

“But then I have to pay them and since it’s so last minute I would need to give them more money, right?”

“Y/N.”

“I guess I could, but I think I would also have to pay for meals, and then I have no idea what time I’m going to get home, and whenever that is I’m going to have to do laundry, and-”

“Hey. Earth to Y/N. I can watch him,” Trent finally cuts you off long enough to get a word in.

You were hesitant; Trent had never been left alone with Ben, and probably never left alone with a four-year-old ever by your assumptions. “No, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” you tell him, picking up your phone to see him.

“I’m serious! You just said you need a babysitter, I was going to ask if I could come over and see you before the road trip, anyway.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your lip. Did you trust Trent enough to let him watch and take care of Ben? If you could trust Rachel, a girl who still had a curfew and couldn’t even drive her friends in the same car as her, why couldn’t you trust your boyfriend?

“Of course!” he says, clearly getting up and walking around what you think was his apartment. “I’m leaving right now, I’ll be there in ten.”

He hangs up and leaves you to finish getting ready, hurrying through trying to make yourself look presentable and finding the stuff that you needed. You couldn’t find your work bag, or your computer, mentally cursing yourself for the one time you didn’t leave it in your closet like you normally did.

“Hey, Benny? Have you seen Mommy’s computer and bag?” you go into your living room to where you left Ben. He shakes his head, his overall attention not leaving whichever toy he was fixated on. “Great,” you mutter under your breath, trying to find it. “Ben, how about you and I play a game?” you ask him, getting down in front of him. “If you can help me find my blue bag and my computer, someone really special will come over tonight!”

Ben gets up and starts looking for you, hoping that you can find it before Trent actually gets to your place. “Mommy! I found it!” Ben comes running to you, your bag nearly as big as him as he struggles to carry it to you.

You take it from him, kissing his head as he goes running off, a knock at your door just in time. Opening it, you see Trent on the other side, a bag in his hand. Kissing him hello, you tell him, “I owe you big time.”

“We can discuss payment when you get home. And I have some ideas as to how you could pay me,” he says, bringing you in for a kiss.

“Trent!” Ben runs over, interrupting.

Trent practically launches himself off you, picking up Ben and hugging him while your son’s laughter and happiness fill your home. “Benny Bear!” He gives Ben the bag, telling him to open it.

“A bear!” Ben jumps up and down with the small stuffed animal that Trent had gotten him.

“What does a bear say?” Trent asks, both of them going, “grrrrr,” with their hands curled like claws, their faces scrunched. You felt yourself melting at the sight of Trent getting along so well with Ben, your son running around in circles with his new toy that he would probably say is his favorite since it came from Trent.

“Did you buy him a Benny Bear?” you gush, bringing him in for a hug.

“I saw it when I was on the road and had to get it for the little guy.”

“You love him,” you tell him, not needing to ask since you already knew what his answer would be if you did.

“Of course. But you have to get to work,” he tells you, pushing you off him.

“I’ll pay you for whatever you get for dinner, order what you want, within reason for him.”

“You don’t have to pay me back, and I’ll make sure to get him lots of candy,” he jokes, earning a look from you. “I’m joking,” he says, throwing his hands up in defense. “Go, go to work. I’ve got this.”

“If you need anything call me, or even one of the guys who have kids. If you trust them, I’ll trust them.” You kiss him again, yell goodbye to your son and remind him to behave for Trent. You were nervous about leaving Ben alone with him, but if you wanted to be serious about this guy, you had to do it at some point, right?

You close the door, leaving Ben and Trent alone on the other side as you try to think about how you and DeAndre can now keep your investors from pulling money, practically running down the hall so that you can get to your car.

Trent turns around, Ben already sitting back down on the floor and playing away with his toys. He had no idea how to watch a four-year-old. He takes in a deep breath, sitting on the ground with Ben, his back leaning up against your couch. “Alright, Benny, what do you want to do?”

Ben hands Trent a toy, starting to ramble on about whatever magical world he’s conjured up that Trent was no part of. He had no idea what he was doing, trying to follow along with your son’s imagination as best as he could.

Trent didn’t know how you did it. Ben was a ball of energy all the time, and at home seemed to be no exception. Trent was chasing him around as they played ‘Bear catcher,’ which Trent wasn’t really sure the rules of in the first place, just following around your four-year-old through your apartment while he sprinted, jumped, hid, crawled, and did every other action that Trent felt too old for.

Ben finally sits down and focuses on the tv when he hears some song coming from it, the first moments that Trent can sit down as well, hoisting himself onto the cushions. His phone starts buzzing, a call from Jack coming in. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What are you doing right now?” Jack’s voice comes through the phone as Ben gets up again, starting to run around with the bear Trent bought him.

“I’m watching Ben.”

“Since when are you a babysitter?” Jack asks, judgment dripping in his voice.

“Since Y/N needed a babysitter and I was free.” Ben climbs up on the couch and starts jumping, Trent suddenly feeling a wash of panic over him at the thought of Ben falling and getting hurt. Jack starts saying something that Trent knew he didn’t want to hear anyway, giving him the perfect excuse to cut him off. “Hey, Ben, you’ve gotta be careful. Sorry, dude, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

He hangs up before Jack can get another word in. “Hey, Benny. Mom said we could order dinner,” he says, pulling Ben into his lap in hopes that he would calm down long enough so he could talk to him. Ben squirms as his energy never seems to stop, Trent doing everything he can to try to figure this out. “What sounds good to you?”

“Ice cream!”

Trent lets out a small laugh, Ben’s face glowing at the thought of ice cream for dinner. “No, bud, you can’t have ice cream for dinner.”

“Ice cream! Ice cream!” Ben wriggles free of Trent’s grasp, repeating the phrase over and over again as he sets off running around again.

Trent was way in over his head. He didn’t think that Ben would have this much energy for this long. Whenever he was with you, it was either during the day and Ben stayed relatively calm, or when you were playing, he had you to help counteract and keep Ben from being the seemingly crazy child that he was right now. He could call you and ask what to do, but from how you sounded on the phone and when he came over, you were way too stressed out to also have to worry about Ben at that moment. He could call one of his teammates who actually knew what they were doing when it came to child care, but Jack’s words from the family skate practically haunted him. He wasn’t in too over his head when he was with you, or when he was with you and Ben. But just Ben? Not going too well.

“Benny Bear, come here,” Trent says, reaching out to catch Ben as he runs by the couch. “How about, we get something else to eat, and if you eat all of it, I’ll get you ice cream?” he asks, making a mental note to at least text you to ask if it was ok that he have it. Ben nods his head since Trent technically said he could have ice cream. “What do you want?”

“Mac and cheese!”

“What about,” he starts, pulling out his phone. “Some chicken fingers?” Something told him cheese and ice cream wasn’t going to end well for Ben’s stomach that night, and by default, it wasn’t going to end well for Trent, either.

Ben nods, going back off and running around the room. He had to tire out at some point, right?

“Hello?” you answer your phone, Trent calling you to make sure his dinner plans were ok.

“Hey, Ben said he wanted ice cream, but I told him only if he eats his dinner, and I had to make sure it was alright with you, first.”

“What did you settle on?”

“Chicken fingers?”

He hears someone calling your name in the background, you yelling something back to them in panic. “Yeah, there might be some in the freezer? If not, just tell him that the ice cream fairy is coming later and he can have it tomorrow, or something. There are also some carrots in the fridge, too. Tell him he has to eat some of those if he wants ice cream, even if I don’t have any. Have some with him, pretend they’re spaceships, and play with them before you eat them, that normally distracts him long enough.”

“That works?”

“Trent, he’s four. Most things like that do.” He hears more yelling from your end, Ben coming zooming by him yet again, nearly tripping over Trent’s feet. “I’ve gotta run. Love you, bye.”

You hang up before Trent can react. You hadn’t told each other that you loved the other yet. He knew he loved you, but he didn’t know if you loved him back. But you just said it, and he didn’t even know if you meant it since you said it in such a hurried context. He hoped you meant it. He can’t even focus while he’s ordering dinner, not really sure what he was having other than the carrots you mentioned were in the fridge.

Trent just sits there while he waits for the food to arrive, getting the carrots out and trying to see if there was anything close to ice cream, or even yogurt that he could throw in the freezer for Ben while he continues to zoom around your apartment. “Hey, Benny, look!” he says, holding up the carrots. “Spaceships!”

This felt like he was talking to a dog, which seemed weird, but at this rate, Ben was tiring him out so fast he didn’t know what to do. He and Ben start playing with the carrots, watching your son eat what was in front of him when the doorbell rang for food.

Ben keeps playing with food, something Trent thought you probably wouldn’t like too much, but at this point, he didn’t know if he should care. He had no idea how you did this. There was no way Ben had this much energy every night, right? He had never seen you exhausted, so Ben couldn’t be a ball of energy all the time. At least, that’s what he convinced himself as he sat there eating his food.

Eventually, Ben goes to sleep, Trent helping get him ready for bed and tucking him in. You had texted that you weren’t sure when you were going to be home, but Trent was free to stay the night instead of driving back home regardless of what time you would be back, something he gladly took you up on.

Trent finally settles down after finding a pair of sweats he left at your place a while ago, collapsing onto the couch in complete exhaustion from Ben’s running.

“Trent?” he hears Ben’s small voice coming from down the hall, pulling Trent away from the trance he fell in trying to stay awake until you got home. “Trent!”

He runs down the hall at the sound of the increased panic in your son’s voice, not sure what he was supposed to expect when he practically burst through his bedroom door. “Buddy, what’s wrong?”

Ben was breathing heavily when Trent got close to his bed, clutching his sheets to his chest, “I had a bad dream.”

Trent sits down on Ben’s bed, a sad smile on his face. “Ah, Benny, it’s all over now. You’re safe.” Ben nods his head, a terrified look still on his face. He pulls Ben in for a hug, kissing the top of his head, Ben’s small arms wrapping around Trent’s own. “How about I read you a story to help you fall asleep?”

Ben nods, jumping out of bed and getting a book for Trent. “Goodnight Lab?” Trent reads, a confused look on his face.

“Mommy likes science,” Ben offers as his explanation.

“Of course she does,” he says, opening the book, putting his arm around your son as Ben cuddles up against Trent’s chest. “In the great green lab, there was a laser, and a lab notebook, and a picture of Einstein with a stern look,” he starts, already seeing Ben’s eyes getting heavy.

You finally get back home, seeing the light on, no one in the living room. Wandering through your apartment, you hear Trent’s voice coming from Ben’s room, finding him there with your son, him asleep against Trent’s chest as he whispers the end of the book to him, “Goodnight liquid nitrogen, goodnight compressed air, goodnight scientists everywhere.”

You stand in the doorway, Trent not noticing you as he slips himself from Ben, your son curling up with his blankets. Trent bends down to kiss him on the head, tiptoeing out of the room.

“Hi,” you whisper, closing Ben’s door behind you, giving Trent a kiss hello. “What was that?”

“He had a nightmare, so I read him a story to calm him down and get him back to sleep,” he explains.

“That’s so sweet of you,” you tell him, leading him down the hall to your room.

He shrugs, closing the door behind you. “My mom used to do it for me and my siblings. I always told myself that I would do it for my son or daughter.” You don’t know what to say, just pulling him in for a kiss, down on your bed. He pulls away, a smile on his face, “Oh, and I love you too,” he tells you, hoping that Ben didn’t wake up and hear what you two were about to do next.

Sweet Emotion

“Happy birthday, Benny!” Trent says, taking a video of your son as he blew out the candle on the small cupcake in front of him. Your son’s fifth birthday was spent out with Trent, starting with him making breakfast again, taking the two of you to the park and Boston Commons as he played with Ben the entire time, out to dinner where you were now, treating you the entire way. Ben didn't even care about the gift that you had gotten from Andy, something he had previously looked forward to every year. Ben was starting to see Trent as a father figure, something that was both terrifying and exciting to you.

If Trent, for whatever reason, stopped wanting to be part of your life, that would mean he would also probably leave Ben’s, a boy who already didn’t know his father and didn’t seem to want to know him. But he wanted to know Trent, he loved Trent, and you knew Trent loved him, too. You were just afraid he would fall out of love.

Ben was giggling as Trent smashed part of the cupcake against his nose, the bright red frosting making him look like Rudolph as he tried, and failed, to lick it off himself.

“Did you get that part, too?” you ask Trent, leaning over to see his screen.

“Yeah, I’ll send it to you. Do you mind if I post it to my private story? Some of the guys and their wives would go crazy for this.”

“Only the private one,” you tell him, laughing as you turn to Ben to see his face more of a mess than before, the red frosting now spread to his cheeks, “Benny, what happened?”

“I’m painting,” he says, using his finger to smear the frosting on his face.

Trent can’t help but laugh, you pulling Ben in for a hug. Trent snaps a picture of you kissing the frosting off his face. “Wait a sec,” he says, calling over a waiter to take a picture of the three of you, both of you kissing Ben’s cheek as he beams at the camera.

You see him set his phone down, notifications lighting the screen up as you guys get ready to leave, the picture of the three of you his new phone background.

The next morning, Trent had morning skate before needing to get ready for their game that night. The last game before the All-Star Weekend marking the halfway point of the season was always both nerve-wracking and exciting, the hypothetical of ‘if the season ended today, would you be in or out of the playoffs?’ always on everyone’s mind even though it meant virtually nothing, but still wanting to stay at one of the top spots in the league regardless.

“Hey, what was with that story yesterday?” Jack asks him after practice.

“It was Ben’s birthday,” he shrugs.

“Isn’t it weird?” Zach asks. “She has a kid. She’s a mom. You aren’t a dad.”

“I never said I was his dad,” he defends himself, starting to take on a hostile tone.

“Well, you’re acting like his dad, aren’t you?”

Trent rolls his eyes as his only response. What was he supposed to do? Ignore that you have a child? Trent gets up to leave, Jack now standing in front of him to stop him.

“You’re with them all the time. You watch him when Y/N is busy. You brought them to family skate. You know his favorite toys, his favorite tv shows, you facetime them every night before the game because he’s going to be asleep by the time the game is over. You’re not his dad,” Jack lists to Trent, Trent getting more angry with every word that comes from his friend.

“What am I supposed to do? Pretend that Ben isn’t part of her life? Pretend that she has no kid? I can’t do that. I don’t want to do that.”

“It’s messing with you, Trent!” Jack yells, the rest of the remaining guys getting quiet. “You don’t do this. You don’t date a girl who has a child and play ‘house’ with her. You’re the guy who just fucks around and has fun. Where did he go?”

“I can’t change? I can’t settle down because I wasn’t settled before?” Trent responds, knowing that his face was bright red, “I love Y/N, and I love Ben. I don’t care if you think it’s ‘not normal.’ It’s what I want and you don’t really get a say in that.” Jack stands there, stunned by his friends' words, still struggling to find them as Trent grabs his bag and walks out of the room to go home before the game.

He wanted to call you and talk about it with you, but what was he going to say? ‘The guys think my dating you is weird since you have a son?’ The flash of your expression appeared in his mind when you realized the guys didn’t know about Ben at family skate, the pain he knew you felt when you thought he was ashamed of Ben. He wasn’t then and he isn’t now.

But what was he doing? Jack was right: he wasn’t Ben’s dad. He could never really be Ben’s dad. Why did your son mean so much to him if he had no relation to the child in the first place?

Why did he have to say he was all in? He was supposed to be focusing on himself and his hockey, not a girl he met at a bar and pouring all his excess energy into you and your son. What was he supposed to do? Pull back? Pull you away from your son? There was no way that was going to be an option, and there was no way that was an option he wanted to follow.

He was supposed to be following his normal pre-game traditions and routines, not having his mind run rampant over the thought of you and Ben and what his teammates think.

He pulls out his phone, a notification from Instagram telling him that you had responded to his story a few hours ago while he was at practice. Trent opens it, seeing the picture of Ben, looking so happy with the cupcake that was all his, the red frosting seconds from being smeared all over his face. Trent didn’t think about being a dad anytime soon. He really never had any intention of settling down, at least not yet, not seriously, yet there he was, thinking of Ben like his own son, head over heels for you and your son.

It was too much, wasn’t it?

His phone started buzzing with texts from the guys to make sure that he was ok after they watched his and Jack’s blow up in the locker room. Trent didn’t even care about them at this point, knowing that he should at least answer them even just to tell them to leave him alone for the time being.

But what if they were right? Jack’s words kept ringing through his head, that he was just a guy who had fun because that’s what he wanted, not a guy who settled down with a girlfriend, and especially not a guy who settled down with a girl who had a toddler.

He spent the entire time he was supposed to be taking a nap going back and forth between whether or not he was in too deep or if he was fine because he was in love. The night he met you, he had never intended to get this far in with you. He had just wanted to hook up, the reason he went home with you in the first place. But as soon as you told him about Ben, seeing the crushed look on your face at the prospect of him leaving because of your son, he knew that he couldn’t just be one and done. There was something about you and Ben that he had to be part of it once he was introduced, that part of his life that he never knew was missing until he realized he couldn’t picture his life without you.

And it was just too much.

Attitude Adjustment

Trent finally gets to the Garden, not even remembering who they were playing that night. He couldn’t think about anyone else, almost tempted to tell Bruce that he was sick so he could be a late scratch instead of letting this mess with him. Because no matter what he did, he couldn’t get out of his head and focus. The music that he normally played before a game wasn’t working, even so much as trying to close his eyes and picture being on the ice while he was in the locker room before the game.

No one approached him while he was in his stall, probably out of fear of another outburst from him. He wasn’t even paying attention when Bergeron gave his traditional pre-game motivational speech before they all went out to the ice, Trent skating around by himself in hopes of being able to focus before they played the Flames that night.

“Alright, what’s going on?” he hears someone say, not even noticing who came up to him in the first place.

He looks at Brad, suddenly thankful that there was someone on the team who knew what he was going through. “Katrina already had Sloane when you two met, right?”

“Y/N and Ben on your mind?”

“You were in the locker room after practice.”

The two of them skate around their half of the ice, the time before the game ticking down. “When you date a woman, when any two people date, there’s always going to be something that can get in the way and potentially break you up. That includes their family, their kids if they have them. You need to decide if you want to let Ben break you and Y/N up or if you’re going to take him in and not let him do that.”

The guys were migrating back to the bench, Brad still on the ice for the starting lineup. “It worked for you, though,” Trent says, hanging back as long as he could, his eyes darting back and forth between the clock and his teammate.

Brad shrugs, looking out to the blue line where Bergeron and Pastrnak were already waiting. “I don’t see Sloane as any less of my son than I see Sawyer as my daughter. It worked for me. If you want it to work for you, then you have to make it work.”

The buzzer sounds, Bruce yelling for Trent to get off the ice and onto the bench. Did he want this to work with you and Ben? What the three of you had was already great, but Trent had barely spent any time with you, a time when you and he could just be a couple without worry of anyone else.

Trent’s line goes out on the ice, his mind still occupied as he skates. The puck touches his stick, him making a mad dash towards the Flames net, only to get tangled up with Tkachuk, sending Trent to the ice. He doesn’t get up for a minute, trying to process what happened, an easy shot and probably goal just messed up, leading to a breakaway to the other end to put the Flames up 1-0 against the Bruins.

By the time he can finally get himself up, Bruce is yelling at him that if he messes up like that again then he’s benched the rest of the game, definitely not a good look going into the All-Star break. He gets back out on the ice, the same thing happening with him tripping on a breakaway, this time over himself instead of a Flame, again leading to them scoring and putting them up 2-0. He couldn’t get out of his head. Trent sat there the entire time, not even focusing on the game, not focusing on the comeback his own team had to win the game 4-3.

He didn’t talk to anyone in the locker room, rushing out as soon as he could to go home, hearing Brad’s voice carry through the hallway to the elevators as he explained what he knew about the situation, no doubt that Jack offered his own remarks that Trent was sure would have lead to them fighting right there.

He had never wanted to fight one of his teammates over shit they said before, let alone one of his best friends. Other guys on other teams? Sure. But Jack?

Trent gets into his car, his phone already blowing up, asking him if he had still wanted to come on the trip to Puerto Rico he and the guys had planned with their girlfriends a while back. He had completely forgotten about the trip, no one even mentioning it for the longest time, not even sure that it was actually booked by anyone.

What surprised him most was Jack asking in the group if you were going to come with them, followed by a separate text saying that he meant it, that he wanted you to come.

Maybe this is what you and Trent needed; a trip with the guys, the two of you able to spend some time alone and just be with each other without the constant worry of someone or something else. He texted back that he would be there, not sure about you yet.

“Hello?” you answer your phone, Ben’s coming through the background. Hearing him made Trent hesitate, swallowing hard.”Trent?”

“Yeah, uh,” he swallows again, “Sorry, um, mind if I stop by for a few minutes?”

You sit up from the couch, looking at the mess you didn’t even realize Ben had created during the game. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon?” you say, hearing him start up his car.

“Yeah, awesome,” he says, hanging up before either of you could say anything else, practically speeding out of the Garden as fast as he could to get to you. The more he thought about it, the more excited he was about spending a week with you.

“Hey, Benny, guess who’s coming over soon?” you put on a cheery voice, crouching down to the floor where Ben was playing with his toys.

Your toddler started bouncing up and down, his arms waving around in excitement. “Trent?” he squeals.

“He should be here any minute, help me pick up some of your toys, ok?”

You and Ben start to scramble to pick everything up. You knew Trent wouldn’t normally care if there were toys on the ground, but there was something about the tone of his voice when he called to tell you that he was stopping by that worried you.

You had watched the game, you weren’t stupid that he had had an awful game, thankful that it was an earlier evening game that Ben could watch with you. Even he was upset when Trent fell, both times, getting benched and hearing Jack and Brick speculate what was up with one of their favorite players.

Ben continued to buzz around as you waited, thankful that he couldn’t sense the anxiety that was building up while waiting for Trent. You hear him knocking on the door, getting up while Ben seems to be oblivious to the sound. You smile when you see him, mirroring his own expression, the complete opposite of what you expected given the conversation you had minutes ago.

“I have something to ask you,” he starts, his hands on your waist as he starts walking you backward down the hall, seemingly toward your bedroom.

“Trent! Trent!” Ben comes up to the two of you, bouncing up and down, Trent's hands releasing their grip on you. “Are you coming on Friday?” Ben asks him, referencing his concert at school that Trent had promised to come to.

You saw the smile on Trent’s face fade at Ben’s words, a nervous look taking over as he knelt down to look Ben in the eye. “I really want to see your concert, buddy, but I’m not sure if I can make it. I’m gonna try, though, ok?” he tries to save face when he sees the crushed look on your son’s face.

Ben nods, not understanding what Trent was really saying to him. In his world, Trent saying he wasn’t sure meant he didn’t want to see him sing with his other classmates. “Um, Ben, why don’t you go play in your room for a little bit, ok?” you ask him, guiding him to his room, watching him run down the hall. You turn to your boyfriend, clearly confused by what he just told Ben. “It’s the All-Star break, what came up?”

“The guys and I are going away for the break, and I want you to come with me.”

“What are you talking about? You said you were staying here?” you ask him, praying that Ben doesn’t come out of his room and couldn’t hear any of this.

“I know, I know, but, come on, things change,” he says, taking your hand and trying to lead back down your hallway.

“Wait, Trent, come on,” you stop him, turning him around to face you. “You want Ben and I to come with you on a trip with the guys? What guys, where are you going?”

His expression drops again, “I was kinda hoping it would just be me and you.”

“And where would Ben be? I can’t just leave him alone. I can’t go away with you.”

“But, Y/N, come on,” he whines. “This could be so good for us. A few days, just you and me, no distractions, nothing stopping us from just being together, like a real couple.”

“Distractions? A real couple? Trent, what the,” you stop, realizing you were standing right outside of Ben’s door. You look between Trent and the door, Trent’s pleading expression as you take him down the hall, practically slamming the door to your own bedroom. “What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss.

He sits on your bed, you still standing, towering over him. He puts his hands in his face, letting out a deep breath. “I’m,” he starts, “I just want time where it’s you and me. Other than that night at the bar, we almost never have had more than a few hours when you and I are alone. I need to get out of Boston for a bit, and I don’t want anyone with me beside you.”

“Trent, I can’t,” you protest, sitting down next to him.

“Yes, please, just say, yes.”

“No, Trent. You aren’t hearing what I’m saying.”

“I am, I just-”

“Ok, then you aren’t listening! I can’t just drop everything on a moment’s notice and go off with you on a vacation. I have a kid, and if you haven’t noticed, I can’t exactly afford a babysitter for more than two nights in a row, let alone watching him all day every day for an entire week.”

“Don’t worry, I can pay for one, I just need to get out of here, and I need you with me.”

“Trent, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Ben can stay with a sitter.”

“Don’t you get it? Ben comes first. Ben has to come first. When it comes to a decision between you and Ben, or anyone and Ben, my choice is always Ben. There is never a case when I’ll pick something or someone over him, especially not going on some trip with you and your frat boy-like teammates because you’re upset you had one bad game. I choose him every single time. Especially over you, Trent.”

“What about Ben’s father? Can’t he stay with Andy?”

You can’t help but gasp, hurt by what you thought Trent meant. “You mean the father that didn’t want him? I. Told you. This,” you say, standing up again, “Andy wants nothing to do with Ben. And right now it seems like neither do you.” You could feel the tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, turning around and heading out of your room. You couldn’t look at him. You had no idea where you were going to go, given that you had Ben in his room and couldn’t leave him.

“Y/N, please, I’m sorry,” he runs after you, stopping you before you reached the door. “I just want a few days, where it’s you and me. Where everything is easy for us. Where there’s nothing, no one, besides you and me.”

“This isn’t supposed to be easy. You knew it wasn’t going to be so why are you so shocked that this is how it is?” you tell him, the tears finally falling.

The two of you stand there for a minute, Trent starting to reach for you a few times before running his hands through his hair. “It’s me and Ben, or neither of us,” you give him an ultimatum. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, wishing he can find the words. “Fine. If you can’t make the decision, I will. Get out.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“No. If you have to think about it, then you aren’t ‘all in,’” you call back to the morning after you two met. “Because if you were, you wouldn’t have to think about it.”

Trent doesn’t say another word, pushing past you and leaving you there.

You press your back against the door, letting out a silent sob so that Ben can’t hear you. This was exactly what you were afraid of, wiping the tears from your face and peeling yourself off the door. You walk down the hall, hoping that Ben wouldn’t notice the redness that was probably in your eyes from crying, opening his door.

“Where’s Trent?” Ben asked, handing you a toy of his when you sit down on his floor with him.

You swallow hard, not sure what to really tell him. “He had to go, Benny,” you say, running your hand on his hair, pulling him close to kiss the top of his head.

“When’s he coming back, Mommy?”

You put on a fake smile for him, not wanting to let him know when you really thought Trent would be back. “I don’t know, sweetie. Not this week.”

I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing

You hadn’t checked anyone’s story on Instagram since last night, sitting on the metal chairs in the middle of the day, surrounded by parents much older than you, figuring now was probably the only time you hate the chance.

You tap through them, some stories from friends from college, random celebrities that you followed. You finally get to Jack’s story from last night. They were in Puerto Rico, in some dark restaurant. Zach and Jeremy were dancing, Jack behind the camera. In the corner, you could see Trent sitting at a table, looking miserable. He sees Jack with his camera, shakes his head and storms off. You replay the story, Jack’s shaking making you think that he was saying something and turning the sound on low, holding the phone to your ear. You could hear the music more than anything else, sounds of Zach, Jeremy, and Jack’s laughter breaking through after one of them said something inaudible. Trent must have gotten up at that point, because you hear Jack yell, “Oh, Trent! Come on, man! Have some fun!”

You go to Trent’s profile, hoping that he had posted anything. The last photo he has posted was of the two of you, him strategically cropping out Ben because you had asked him to. It was from Ben’s birthday, outside the restaurant. He had captioned it, ‘Spent the day with my two favorite people, Bear not shown.’

Ben’s preschool teacher gets up on the stage, the high-pitched whispers of the four- and five-year-olds starting by the back door as Ms. Barry introduces the class, all of them walking up in a line to the stage. They start waving to their parents, Ben waving to you as everyone, including you, has their phone out waving back and recording the moment. The children start singing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,’ their pixie-like voices filling the auditorium, all slightly out of key and slightly out of sync with each other. Towards the end of the song, you notice Ben starting to jump up and down, anxious over something he saw towards the back of the auditorium, as did some of the other children. You figured it was nothing, none of the other parents turning around to look at what it was either.

They go onto their next song, one you weren’t paying attention to, nor did you recognize it. Ben was no less antsy than he was before, waving again with the biggest smile on his face. It had to be someone.

You turn around, Trent leaning against the back wall, one hand in his pocket while the other was waving to Ben. All of his attention was on Ben. You turn back in your seat, shocked that he was there. He was supposed to be in Puerto Rico.

You put your bag on the seat, the mom next to you promising to watch it. You sneak back to Trent, not sure what to say to him. You turn to Ben, giving him the thumbs up and a single finger to tell him that you were going to be back in a second, feeling bad that you were leaving your so. Ben jumps up and down, nodding and continuing to sing.

You grab Trent, pulling him out of the room and into the small hallway. “What are you doing here? You were in Puerto Rico last night; I saw you on Jack’s story.”

He looks down at his feet, biting his bottom lip. “I couldn’t be there knowing you and Ben were here.”

“That’s not what you said when you wanted to go.”

He nods, looking up at you for a second before his eyes flick back down to his feet. “I told you I was dumb.”

“So why are you here then?”

“I told you when we first met that I was all in. I can’t be all in if I’m not here.”

“So?”

He takes a step closer to you, hesitating for a moment. “So. I don’t want to miss anything with you, or with Ben.” You don’t know what came over you, kissing him outside your son’s concert the way you did. You can hear the parents start to cheer, signaling that the concert was finished. Trent pulls away, your foreheads pressed against each other. He smiles before stealing a kiss again, pulling you back inside.

Ben comes running up to you, giggling with his arms open. “Trent!”

“Benny Bear!” he responds, crouching down with his arms open, hugging Ben when he came in contact. He picks him up, kissing him on the cheek, your hand on Trent’s back.

“You came! You’re back!” Ben squeals, burying his face in Trent’s shoulder.

“Back and here to stay,” he says to you, giving you a quick kiss before putting Ben down, getting your bag, and going home.

[mattpoitrass7thgoal]

Recently I've been thinking about the juxtaposition between 2 cases on the Bruins team, so this is my opinion piece on it, move on if are not willing to read it as it is very long.

Okay, so the difference between how DeBrusk and Wagner were treated by fans. Though their cases share many similarities they aren't the same. Jake was struggling with mental health issues during those unfortunate seasons where he was underperforming and the main subject of critiques by fans. During those same seasons, Wags was also having mental health issues as well as physical health issues and was sent down to Providence this season. That is a simple explanation of this situation. I'm not saying that either one is worse because when you look in-depth at both stories they both contain a lot of multitudes. Okay so let's start with Jake.

Jake DeBrusk is a better hockey player than Chris Wagner, I know a groundbreaking statement, but with that, the expectations people had for him are higher. Looking back at his stats in 19-20 season where I thought the play started he actually had alright stats, I can't remember too much from that season about his performance but think it was average to good. 20-21 is where the stats change dramatically, I have no knowledge of where his health issues began but I will put a roundabout date of maybe during the pandemic. Jake has 14pts in 41 games, he struggled during this season and was the face of many critiquing analyzations (I had my fair share of looks at how bad he is playing posts too, I won't deny that yes I'm one of those fans). To be fair he wasn't the only bad player from that season you had players like Coyle and a major portion of the 4th line struggling for points or good performances too. I find a difference in their situations was that the expectations for the 4th line aren't as high as someone on the second line who previously had good seasons (i know players can have dips in performance but to everyone, it was weird for someone that young and experienced at NHL level, prior to 20-21 he was having 40ish point season for the past few years) additionally at this time they were all used on the PK which was 1st in the league or at least the top 5 and Jake was not currently being used on it. This is something I always think about when looking at a player's overall performance, their versatility and usage in the lineup, Jake I believe was only on the PP2 unit for the majority of the season but I do not fully recall. Jake for the majority of the season was dragged through the media because he was the easy option. This wouldn't have helped his situation the constant look at who's better than you and you see it's Nick Ritchie they are talking about would be disheartening (don't attack me look at the stats the guy had better luck at the time and even though he may have been on PP1 just standing there he was still scoring goals and being beneficial sometimes). What I think could've been helpful from Bruce was the timing of when to bench him, it should've been done earlier the longer he left it, the longer and more the critiques became because fans and reporters weren't seeing an improvement where normally a player would've been benched for a game straight away Jake was left in with a struggling game and limited support from media. Not only that but this was the season that Fluto's report came out saying that he was the team's 'punching bag'. Media at this time was always negative surrounding Jake, so I understand why his fans were aggressively supporting him. We all fall into one side of the argument here, yes I fall into the side that critiqued him during the season (I remember apologising later on too). However for the type of fan I am my favourite player is my favourite player but I'm not here to defend them, if they are sucking they are sucking I will announce it to the world. What I saw from multiple Jake fans is they are always looking at the positives of him which is understandable to do when someone is your favourite, that he is a great player when he is on, that he can score goals and that's where a lot of people clashed heads because some were looking at the positive past, partial present and future of his play while others saw the current present play and were just not that impressed by it. I know this is where I clashed with a few Jake fans out there and sorry about that once again, anyway he always had some fans on his side, he always had people out there supporting and cheering him on waiting for that moment to prove everyone wrong and that part came in the next season. This season was his big comeback and he warmed up around January when the trade announcement happened and he was moved to RW on the top line and he performed, that was amazing to see but it will always make people move on the next underperforming player to critique, I think it was Smith, Foligno or Nosek.

That's enough about Jake now onto Chris.

Chris Wagner is a career fourth-liner, I don't have high expectations of him and I know many people don't and that's where these two things are different. Wags would have a slim if not only a few die-hard fans or supporters, unlike Jake DeBrusk who has been an extremely popular younger player for the Bruins. Personally, I like wags, he is a hard hitter and he is great on the PK but I do not expect him to go out there and score 10+ goals a season like I do with Jake. I may not have actively posted pieces like I did about Jake but when I look at him I expect a couple goals a season and some defensive play, my expectations are completely different because Chris has never truly surprised me. If I had to pick one play and it's on my mind which is the SHG against the Rangers when had a takeaway and cut around Panarin, that was beautiful. Wags came out post-season and stated he had mental health issues during the season and he was struggling, he also brought up that he had a cardiac arrhythmia which was atrial fibrillation.

Quick what is a-fib for everyone out there that has no idea (I have some idea only due to my degree in paramedicine, I am no cardiologist.) A-fib is when the SA node aka the main pacemaker of the heart is not functioning properly, it is causing the atria to quiver rather than contract, leaving the AV node aka the backup pacemaker in the heart which is overwhelmed with signals from the atria where it can only allow a few through leading to an irregularly irregular heart rhythm which tends to be tachycardic (over 100bpm) and reducing the amount of blood moving through the heart as it is not forced through. While a-fib can be fine in a human and can go unnoticed in a person day to day, it still is highly dangerous due to the fact that blood becomes stagnant in the atria allowing clots to form if magically their atria contract the clot can leave either getting stuck in the aorta or one of the coronary arteries leading to a STEMI or into the body increasing the chance of PE's and strokes.

While yes Chris did get media support after this news came out it did slowly disappear because he isn't the mainstay of the roster like a DeBrusk, he can be taken in or out and replaced with a younger player or a stronger player at any moment. Chris was always brought up as to why don't people critique him instead of Jake, and I thought about it and for me, it's what I stated my expectations of different players. Throughout that same season, Chris was someone you probably disregarded or forgot about, he also played 41 games for 5pts and I look back at the times I wanted over players or Bruce wanted in the lineup like Blidh or Frederic or Studnicka the person that usually got sat first was Chris. On a technical level, Kuraly and Bjork or any other player (other than Blidh I think they are both technically the same) were always better than him and that meant they usually remained in so when the option to shake things up occurred Chris was the player benched but due to him having no die-hard supporters and that the expectations are low no one cared when he was removed in favour of another player. Like this year when he was taken down to Providence people forgot about him until the final game when the uproar of "YAY ITS WAGS" appeared because he was just a background player that when you remember who he is you remember him being a presence in the locker room, you remember how he cared about his teammates and you remember some big plays other than that he isn't a necessity to the team like a younger skilled player, someone like a Jake Debrusk. For me I never forgot or wondered about what Wags was doing as he was constantly brought up in the group chat every time he scored, every time he supported the younger players, and just his time mentoring these up-and-comers in Providence, we love our grumpy old man.

Though everyone if they make it this far is confused about what the hell is happening it's basically this, I always wondered about the juxtaposition of how fans treated DeBrusk and Wagner when they faced similar arcs during the 19-22 period. like why was Wags never treated like him being defended by his fans from the media by journalists and other fans, it's because no one cared if Wags played bad there is always someone to replace a fourth-liner, and the journalists never talked about him because they knew the clicks were in Jake stories not about the most replaceable line in hockey. Looking back maybe I could have argued for him in the lineup but I really only do it for players I believe should always been in the lineup but wags and his abilities to me are commonly found. I never defended Wag's place in the lineup because I was probably advocating for someone else, though I like him I was always looking at the best option which sometimes was not him. Personally to me, it stems from how each player was handled by the media, if Chris was a mainstay and probably a higher-up player in the depth chart that was continuously discussed and wondered upon then maybe just maybe we would've seen that same level of support from fans but where he sits current day I can see why the treatment between these two players and support they receive is different.

[imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs]

Qrowin Week 2021: 6/21-Childhood Friends AU

Two little snowbirds sitting in a row

 They met in the garden at one of her father’s lavish parties. She’d gone outside because little girls didn’t like being told to sit still and not talk nor do anything fun, so she decided she didn’t care if the dress daddy bought her got messy, she’d go outside and spend time in the hedge maze.

They’d gotten it installed, in the shape of the Schnee family crest no less, because the Marigolds had one in the shape of their family crest and daddy could be silly about when people had things he didn’t.

The white roses that grew from the foliage walls, fragrant and delicate, were always calming to her, especially on a cool and cloudless night like this when the moonlight was at its brightest.

For Winter, to get lost in its lush corridors and marble statuary, it’s hidden gardens and fountains would be enough to get the annoyance of her father’s party out of her mind.

Most of that went out of her head when she found a grungy boy in a cape stuffing his face with what looked like a rabbit.

He stared at her, like an animal in a vehicle’s headlights, bits of his meal hanging from his mouth.

He couldn’t be older than her, gaunt with gunsmoke-colored hair stuck up at odd angles and eyes like carbuncles.

The clothes he wore were grubby and layered and obviously used long before he’d begun wearing them, especially that tattered cape.

For a moment, neither spoke, merely staring at one another in the moonlight.

Finally, Winter broke the silence.

“That’s disgusting.”

The boy dropped the rabbit from his mouth.

“Sorry if I’m not fancy enough for you, Miss Uppity.”

Winter felt her cheeks heat with indignation.

“How dare you!”

The boy threw back his head and laughed, a sound that reminded Winter of a pair of birds she’d once heard fighting in the yard.

“Is that all it takes to get under that pale skin!” he laughed, a sound which soon died in his throat when his stomach made a loud groan.

Winter huffed as he reached for the dead rabbit.

“Wait here and don’t touch that,” she said, turning on her heel.

She returned with two plates piled high with hors d'oeuvres.

“I didn’t know what you liked,” she said, handing him one, “so I got you one of everything.”

The boy said nothing, just shoveling food into his mouth in a way that probably promoted choking.

“You’re welcome,” Winter said, sitting down and spearing a piece of salmon on a toothpick to eat.

The boy coughed, pounding his chest.

“You shouldn’t eat so fast,” Winter said, “you’ll get sick.”

“Well, some of us don’t know when our next meal is gonna be,” he said.

His words brought back to Winter the memory of her father sending her to bed with no supper when he found she’d invited a faunus over to play, with threats of no breakfast if she didn’t break it off with the girl tomorrow.

“You might be surprised,” Winter said.

The boy said something through a mouthful of hummace.

“What was that?” Winter asked.

The boy swallowed.

“I’m Qrow,” he said.

Winter smiled.

“I’m Winter.”

One named Winter

She saw him on days when it wasn’t raining or snowing after that. The family he lived with (his “Tribe” as he called them) were camped out in the woods behind their house, the ones nobody would let daddy cut down.

At night, he told her, they danced and played instruments and drank until the early hours of the morning.

Winter never really cared for people who drank (her mother’s growing dependence on liquor was a factor in this) but Qrow never really showed up smelling like wine, so she supposed associating with him was no trouble.

It was also refreshing that he never stood on ceremony.

He never rolled his eyes at her when she spoke of wanting to learn fencing or told her how things were supposed to be when she complained about how someone (usually daddy) was being unfair.

He also taught her new games that were much more fun than anything that the boys and girls daddy introduced her knew.

Kick the can, stickball, and he played hide and seek and tag with her. And he’d tell her all about the places he’d been. Mistral, Vacuo, Menagerie, his tribe had traveled all over Remnant.

And while he could be crass, she still remembered seeing the way he rescued a baby bird from a stray cat and returning it to its nest with the tenderest care.

Or how when she complained of how her father was so bossy and so dumb, that he listened. Didn’t judge, didn’t criticize, just listen.

And sometimes, it was enough to know that they’d meet once a week, at night, in the hedge maze.

One named Qrow

She wasn’t what he expected.

Sure, she told him annoying things like “don’t slouch, eat slower, no burping, don’t pull up the flowers—no! I don’t need them, put them back!”

But she never called him weak. She never said he should practice more like his sister did.

Winter gave him food, and listened to his stories and ideas, and never asked if he wanted to fight. Sometimes, they would even just sit together.

She even taught him how to read; starting with big letters scratched in the dirt with a stick, before lending him books that they could read together.

Mr. Bruin is a Shoe-in was the first he read all by himself. And he was so happy when she let him keep it afterwards.

And she never told him to stop being so dumb, like his sister did.

And sometimes, it was enough to know that they’d meet once a week, at night, in the hedge maze.

Fly away, Winter!

Their shouts bring the servants running. All they saw was Winter on her knees, face in her hands as she wept piteously.

If only they’d come a few minutes earlier, then they could have seen the argument in all it’s glory. Voices rough from the volume and occasionally cracking, tears streaming down their faces, they weren’t that little boy and girl anymore.

He’d grown lanky and lean, she taller and with longer hair.

But they didn’t care right then.

She’d told him she was joining the military.

He said his tribe would be moving and asked if she wanted to join them instead of some stupid army.

She said it was a noble profession.

He said only for assholes.

She defended her position.

He reiterated his opinion.

She shouted at him, asking why couldn’t he be happy for her.

He shouted at her what would be wrong with going with him.

She said something about duty.

He told her to shut up, that he didn’t want to hear duty again in his whole life.

She told him that if he was going to act like a filthy little boy, then he could go off and sulk like one.

He said he wished he’d never met her and hoped she enjoyed killing people.

Arguments like that, they learned, ended with no winners.

Fly away, Qrow!

 That was the end of the time Qrow considered himself happy. Life seemed to plan for him a long drawn out death, bracketed with disappointments and tragedy’s.

Transformation

The death of friends.

The death of family.

The horrors of war.

Secrets and betrayal.

Abandonment.

And the drink

So, so much to drink.

It didn’t fix anything. It didn’t make him feel more human. But it kept the nightmares at bay. It kept him as a predictable disappointment rather than an out-of-the-blue-never-seen-that-kind-of-train-wreck-before disappointment.

But the worst part of the drink, thought, was that no matter how many shots he took, no matter how many chasers. Black liquor, brown liquor, red wine, white wine, it didn’t matter. Melancholy brought back visions of that girl from that time he had been happy.

Come back, Winter!

First impressions had never come easy to Qrow. So really, it should be no surprise that impression number 15 the horrible sequel nobody wanted or needed.

But really, denying common sense by chucking an empty whisky bottle at James Ironwood’s head was not only pointless, it was utterly puerile. He was drunk. He was upset that his latest search for intel on Salem had turned up next to nothing, he was itching for a fight and if that pompous wannabe hero wanted to take it up with him, that was fine.

Except he hadn’t expected the woman by his side to turn out to be someone familiar. Someone he hadn’t seen since he was a dumb, romantic, fifteen-year-old kid.

Someone whose reappearance upset his stomach enough that he emptied it onto the general’s uniform and shoes. With enough force to make his eyes water.

The woman in the Atlesian uniform said she would take care of him and asked another girl, another white haired girl, where their room was.

As they walked towards Beacon, he thought he heard her say “Qrow Branwen, what has the world done to you?”

Come back, Qrow!

Qrow awoke to a cold rag on his forehead.

“Lie still,” she said, “I think you got a hold of some rockgut.”

“More like rockgut got a hold of me.”

Qrow’s attempt at humor was met with a scowl.

“Gee, you got frosty.”

“And you became an alcoholic,” she said, wringing out the cloth into a nearby basin.

Qrow looked away from her and to the wall, as if a better retort than her’s existed there.

“It eases the pain,” he said.

“No it doesn’t,” Winter said. She threw the rag into the basin, causing the water to splash.

“Qrow, my mother is an alcoholic. It doesn’t fix anything! It just makes you want more of what’s essentially fermented grass!”

“You don’t think I know that!” Qrow snapped. Tears pricked at his eyes and his heart sank when he saw the hurt in her eyes from his tone, something he hadn’t seen there since their last meeting.

“There are nights when no matter how much I drink, I still can’t forget the loss of all the people around me and how--”

He paused and swallowed.

“How everyone is just one day going to leave me!”

Tears were starting to fall as all the regrets he’d kept at bay with drink and fighting and everythng else he could find came rushing back into him and coiling around his lungs.

“I’m bad luck, Winter,” he said, “I lost my sister, my tribe, I lost the people I care about, and every day, it’s missions, missions, and missions to find an enemy I don’t even know exists.”

His shoulders were shaking and he remembered his sister, back when they were little, telling him how ‘boys don’t cry.’

God, Winter must think he’s so pathetic.

Instead, she took him by the shoulders and gently brought him into her embrace.

“It’s alright,” she said, “just let it out. Get it all out.”

Not knowing what else to do, Qrow gripped the back of her uniform and sobbed into her shoulder, years’ worth of pain and loneliness deep inside him rising to the surface and finally escaping. And the pressure went with it.

At some point, they ended up lying together on the bed (wait, were they in a bunk bed?), still in each other’s arms.

“We all have regrets,” Winter said, “things we said. Things we wish we could take back.”

Her hand tightens on his shirt and his hand closes around it.

“But, if you really want to know, if I could do it over...”

Please say it, he wanted to think, but every time he had thoughts like that, life saw fit to swat him down again.

“I would go with you. Even if after the first day, I went back home, I think I would go with you.”

Qrow felt his heart swell and suddenly, he didn’t feel so sick anymore.

“And... if you wanted to start over... I would like that too.”

“I still have Mr. Bruin,” Qrow said.

He didn’t know why he said that. She never asked about the book, never said “Qrow, what kind of literature do you normally read?”

Whatever the reason, Winter looked up at him, shocked.

“Still? I thought you would’ve thrown that away.”

Qrow looked down at her, eyes glassy.

“I tried a few times. But I just couldn’t get rid of something that reminded me of you. It’s missing the page where Mr. Bruin loses his boot, but I tried to keep it safe.”

Winter’s hand rises to his cheek and Qrow leans into it, the human contact easing the hole in his soul he’s tried to fill with booze.

“I’m sorry I didn’t turn out as someone you could be proud of.”

“The fact that you kept that book tells me everything I need to know.”

Later that night, Winter’s sister and Qrow’s niece would get the shock of their lives when they enetered their room and saw the two of them sleeping on Weiss’s bed together.

[ren-is-being-silenced]

Ren’s Taglist Masterlist

This Is Being Changed Currently <3

Please feel free to blacklist or follow any tags in this list. These are my commonly used tags from the last year or so on my main. If you’d like me to start using tags for certain things please let me know via ask or dm!

I won’t be posting every tag as there are a lot of individual NHLers (and their respective teams) i’ve posted about (and tagged) due to suspensions, fines and the like, however I will be posting players who have custom tags along with their normal tag.

I will not be posting all of my “_____ opinion piece” tags separately as there is/or will be one for every team as needed, instead they will be posted as “opinion piece: list of team name/nicknames used”.

Ask games have their own tags but also an overarching one, as such they won’t all be listed either.

Items in lists are relevant to each other but are distinct as shown by commas.

These Are In No Particular Order

”(insert team name here) opinion piece” : habs , nhl draft , isles , yotes , caps , bruins , kraken , avs , tampa , pens

pens lb

pittsburgh penguins

pens stats

penguins tape

penguins goal

rens gdrive stuff

sidney crosby , making fun of sidney crosby hours? , elite goaltender sidney crosby

pens hockey injuries

nhl

my favorite fuckboi , zach aston reese , sweatypits__

back on the pk

infographic

yotes lb

arizona coyotes

starting lineup

nhl dops

2021 offseason

jared mccann , let the canner simping begin lol

1st intermission , 2nd intermission , 3rd intermission , 4th intermission , ect.

judgmental bird noises

bryan rust , rusty is hot leave me alone

i want change

tom wilson , tom wilson discourse

to the power play!

pens lb crew

penguins roundup

generic hockey thought

sad lad hours

teddy blueger , Teodors Bļugers

nhl dops stuff 2021 22

nhl rulebook 2021 22

like pens jerseys make men out of tissue paper sometimes

jason zucker , zuckerpunched

conor sheary , conor shear the hockey love of my life

hockey injuries

nathan mackinnon , yunggnate29

nhl covid 19 protocol

nhl 2021 rulebook

bad call ref

yotes tape

yotes goals

hockey

round up tapes

philadelphia flyers , im such a terrible pens fan for these boys

nhl draft (insert year here)

nhl awards (insert year here)

NHL Trade Deadline (insert year here)

hockeyblr

tristan jarry , elite goaltender tristan jarry

NHL 2013 CBA and 2020 MOU

wb/s penguins

nhl misc goals

hockey boy livestream

pens roster

leon draisaitl , german wonder bread

home opener 2021 22

pens cleanout day

kappy/tans aka the new bromance

4 on 4 hockey

nhl hockey injuries

hockeyblr rpf discourse

hockeyblr directory

penguins helm

mic’d up

bonus hockey

bonus bonus hockey

hockey smooches

1d to hockey pipeline

yotes hockey injuries

love your tendys tenderly!!

5 on 3 hockey

nhl suspension

post game interview

starting goaltender

I want change

NHL News

NHLPA

the bois are fighting

hockey is for everyone

nhl player safety

1st NHL goal

nhl free agency 2021

nhl discourse

Two Headed Monster

nhl related

pens dad duty updates

nhl cheatsheets

nwsl , national womens soccer league

rookie lap

goalie interference

hockey soulmates , and i dub thee hockey husbands

coyotes roundup

hockey birthdays!

🍆 trick , 🎩 trick

‘introducing me’ by ren

chit chat is right

rea answers , thanks for rhe ask lovely!

ren rants

anon ask

ask game

ren is friend shaped

nhl ask game!

look its me!

fuck you guys ill be horny on main if i want

rea is a gamer , kanarenee on ps4 , kanarenee on twitch.tv

vic and rens 2am talks

rens tinfoil hat

rens pets!

queer as fuck , queer as in fuck you

massive blog changes?? , icon change again?

ren watches tennis

rens 3am hot takes

tag games

reas questionable taste in fashion and men

ren has no impulse control

ren rants no reblogs

rens blog got deleted

ren maybe rea on twitter

rea’s taglist masterlist

ren gets political

my emotional support mutuals

ren is a petty bitch

delete later maybe?

genuinely angry rea

rea draws

ren jokes as a coping mechanism , for my own records , my edit , my memes

ren_maybe_rea on twitter

theatre nerd stuff

not quite theatre

tape recording

the athletic , athletic article requests

for reference

'pinned’ post

kanarene 4328 9852 3365 , < thats my pokemon go username and trainer code

critrole watching

tiktok

tagging this for filtering purposes:

pic crew

my spotify

lgbtqia+

palaeontology

Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

players tribune

queer history

carl the iggy , the better aston reese , carl aston reese

shout out to @firefly-graphics for the page breaks/dividers

[reavenedges-lies]

Jeez one thing I would hate to be on here is a full send bruins fan I go into the tag sometimes bc they’re fun but every single time I see someone who hates them shitting on the team and then tagging the bruins with it??? And then getting mad because bruins fans are like “hey don’t put this in our tag please” like I would haTE if someone did that to the Avs what the fuck

I have a lot of bruins fan mutuals, including a few new ones I've made within the last few weeks, and I've seen that and it's horrible. As a Yotes fan, I see a tonne of hate, but almost never on Tumblr in the Yotes tags. It's always in Asks, the tags on post of other teams or even worse off-handed in normal hockeyblr posts, as well as anywhere you look on twitter or reddit. B's fans don't deserve shit like that, they deserve to have their little corner of goalie love and a team that cherishes the time they have together. They deserve to be able to love their team full heartedly and with their chests out without dealing with salty fans of other teams.

So:

To my Bruins mutuals/followers ECT, I hope you can weed the haters out and if you cant i wish you a guilt free blocking spree.

To people who want to hate on the bruins, don't use their tags and censor/obscure the name as br/uins|Br*uins ECT to limit cross contamination

I'm sorry the toxic haters and or fans are always the loudest and may we all be kind to each other as this is just a sport

[kirillmarchenko]

loving your opinions lmao so how about the c*nes??? gonna censor bc their fans are rabid lmao

ASLKDAFJSLKDFJSLADKF HELP (based tho). this is gonna b long so i'm putting it under the cut. also there are two parts: before and after the summer (wonder why)

send me an ask about a team or player i know nothing about and i will summarize it as best i can (osmosis challenge :D)

before the summer:

-best team in the league, most fun team in the league, etc, etc fuck the bruins and the bolts

-ned should have won the calder and is invaluable

-dougie hamilton is the best defensman of our generation (KIDDING)

-teuvo and sebastian are criminally underrated and they both deserve more recognition for their defensive game

-rod is The reason they turned their shit around, is an amazing coach and deserved the jack adams. he's also hot (lol)

-pretty good depth, svech n neci are the future, why does trocheck hit like that sometimes, morgan geekie should be played way more, etc

after the summer:

-why the fuck did they get the entire rangers squad.

-the front office fucking sucks. re: any decision they made about defenseman (keep the ones you drafted LOLLLLL) besides ethan bear lol

-why does rod scratch ethan at least he's not slow and old and not a piece of human garbage

-i think everyone would suck the soul out of freddie andersen

-who tf is dougie hamilton who needs that guy amiright

-seth jarvis is actually finnish. the only thing a team needs to win is finns. that's why they spent 6.1 mil on kk :D

-canes have the best sm 😵 especially when they're raking the habs over hot coals!

[drartemysia]

I only read the article cursorily, but from now on I'm just going to assume that any not-VGK focused man expressing his opinion on the VGK is wrong: the latest Opinion Piece™️ by Ken Campbell on the team.

[every time I encounter him, he is somehow worse than the last]

A series of increasingly worse quotes:

(1)

Almost as quickly as they went from being the cute and cuddly Golden Misfits to a legitimate Stanley Cup contender, they’ve morphed into the Evil Empire, one of the most despised teams in the NHL. They went from a franchise that seemed to put player welfare as a paramount concern – at one point the players had access to free car detailing at the practice rink – to one that has cast aside franchise icon Marc-Andre Fleury, violated Evgenii Dadonov’s contractual rights by trading him to a team on his no-trade list and gotten into a messy dispute with goalie Robin Lehner over his season-ending surgery.

(2)

It all gives the impression that the success the Golden Knights had early in their existence blinded them to their core values. The perception is players and coaches - remember Gerard Gallant? - are not members of a family, they are commodities to be disposed of when a shinier new toy comes along.

Why am I mad when I am not surprised in the slightest? The garbage opinion expressed in quote no. 1, oh my god, I can't even articulate how troubling is that kind of rhetoric. So, apparently, they Golden Knights were only cute when no one expected them to be good? To make meaningful playoff runs? I was in the trenches that first season, because they had drafted my favorite player from the Bruins (hi, Colin Miller, you basically cost us the final game against Washington but I'll love you forever and ever) and I read all that toxic media wondering how it was even allowed that a team which hadn't suffered through at least a decade of mediocre to bad play could even think about being good. They didn't go through what is perceived to be the 'traditional path' that a Team, A Proper Team is supposed to follow and so you despise them and think they are evil. Ha. Ha. HA.

And quote no. 2, which is nicely connected with the second part of quote no. 1. Please, spare me the platitude of a business worth hundreds of millions of dollars feeling like a family; please. As every single person who has ever worked a job ever knows, the workplaces where you hear the phrase 'we are like a family' are the absolute worst places to work at, because they are going to exploit you, steal from you, and then making you feel guilty because you are not thankful to be treated like garbage. All Bosses Are Evil Bosses, ffs. I would beg Mr Campbell to name me the hockey team who has ever stuck with a player who was bad (or just not as good as they expected) just because they loved him if they had the chance to trade him in exchange for some shiny new thing that would make them better. Just One. Show me an actual NHL team with some loyalty in the face of Shiny New Toys, Mr Campbell, I dare you.

And thank you for making my job easy for me in mentioning Marc-Andre Fleury. Do I think that management was supremely evil with the fanbase with that one? Yes, absolutely. WTF were they thinking. But the gall of all the members of hockey media who have talked about the VGK Fleury trade like it was some original sin and a thing which had never happened before to Marc-Andre Fleury specifically is truly baffling. For all the decades-long memory all these people seem to have, they always forget to mention that Flower had been a member of the Pittsburgh Penguins for THIRTEEN SEASONS and even carrying the team to Game 2 of the Eastern Conference Final in the 2016-17 when Matt Murray got injured before the start of the first playoff game and then what happened? They chose the shiny new goalie in whom they put all of their hopes and tossed old, done, declining [I am being sarcastic] Flower to be picked in the draft. By this logic, aren't the Pittsburgh Penguins the original Evil Empire? (They're not. They're just an NHL team like any other. A business.)

I really want to know what are the 'core values' of these capitalist businesses who have made players isolate from their families for months on end so that they could assign a big shiny silver toy in the summer of 2020; I also want to know what were the 'core values' at play when the majority of active NHL players got infected with COVID this season, when there was a not insignificant risk for long-term cardiovascular and pulmonary issues that would 100% not be covered in the health benefits stipulated within the CBA (I know, I fucking read that nightmare thing!). I really do wonder.

Look, the VGK are not great at respecting their work force, that much is clear, but so isn't anyone else. (I mean, there is more than one team employing men who have been repeatedly accused of SA, DV, and harassment) They are no shadier than anyone else.

And for the love of the hockey gods, keep Robin Lehner's name out of your mouth in this situation. Vegas is notoriously private about players' health issues (understandable, I really like this about them), so whether Robin played while being too hurt to do so is all speculation at this point. And while I do not condone or approve the fact that they made him sit as the back-up when they knew they would never be able to send him out whatever happened to Logan, it was made clear by DeBoer that Robin would not have played in those games, no question. I am mad that Logan was put in a situation where effectively he was all alone without any back-up at all because that is not how it's supposed to work. Is Vegas being extra villainous with Robin? No. Let me remind everyone of the fact that Carter Hart has played entire games for the Flyers while at times barely able to stand because of the pain he was in.

Last HIGHLY troubling statement:

(3)

“It seems as though (Vegas GM) Kelly McCrimmon still thinks he’s dealing with junior hockey players.”

What I am gathering from this is that Mr Campbell thinks it's okay to treat children like commodities, just not adult men. Ok. Great. This is certainly a stance to be taking. Good for you for showing your true colors about the exploitative system that is junior hockey, Mr Campbell, duly noted.

[eretzyisrael]

UCLA's Obsession With the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict

I am cross-posting an op-ed in the UCLA Daily Bruin newspaper written by a student and DB cartoon director named Firyal Bawab. The title is: UCLA Must Stop Repressing Pro-Palestinian Narratives.

https://dailybruin.com/2021/06/22/opinion-ucla-must-stop-repressing-pro-palestinian-counter-narratives

The fact is that UCLA does not repress pro-Palestinian narratives. The thesis is absurd on its face. The fact of the matter is that it is the pro-Palestinian lobby that rules the roost in academia across the country, and that includes UCLA in a place of prominence. Throughout the year, as in other universities, UCLA is treated with numerous anti-Israel speakers who come and say their piece without interference. That includes the odious San Francisco State University professor Rabab Abdulhadi, who is mentioned in the article. Abdulhadi is only repressed when she attempts to give a platform to a convicted Palestinian terrorist and skyjacker (Leila Khaled), which ZOOM recently decided properly that they did not want to be associated with.

It is not pro-Palestinian events and speakers who are routinely disrupted on college campuses; it is pro-Israel speakers and events, as I can personally testify from my years teaching at UC Irvine. It is not pro-Palestinian students who are bullied and intimidated on college campuses. It is pro-Israel Jewish students.

UCLA is the home of the Center for Near Eastern Studies, a rabidly anti-Israel department full of activists devoted to demonizing Israel and calling it scholarship. I have written several postings about them. If UCLA were repressing pro-Palestinian narratives, the CNES would not exist at UCLA.

This is a campus where Jewish students aspiring to work in student government have been given the third degree as to whether their Jewishness might cause them to be biased against the poor Palestinians. As if the Israeli-Palestinian conflict had anything to do with student government or student life in general on any US university campuses.

One thing the pro-Palestinian movement has done masterfully is in PR, painting themselves as victims and Israel as oppressors. They have succeeded in making the complex Israeli-Palestinian conflict a hot-button issue on American college campuses with all this nonsense about "intersectionality" which blames Israel for all problems here in the US.

The student-journalist makes reference to an op-ed by UCLA Chancellor Gene Block in the LA Times, in which he takes issue with the demand of Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP) for a boycott of Israel. Block was too kind vis-a-vis SJP. This bunch uses tactics of disruption and intimidation against Jewish, pro-Israel students and their invited speakers, something I repeatedly witnessed when I was teaching at UC Irvine. If anything, Block has been unable or unwilling to provide a safe atmosphere for Jewish students.

I have no wish to be hard on this student-journalist, who, after all, is a young student. Bawab is entitled to her point of view and the right to have it published in the Daily Bruin. But to paint pro-Palestinian activists as being repressed at UCLA or any other campus is an absurdity that must be responded to.

Fousesquawk

[eagles-translated]

Q&A answers from creator and producer Stefan H. Lindén!

Here are the answered questions that all you guys sent in to Stefan. I’d like to thank all of you who sent in questions, and I’d also like to thank Stefan for being the one who offered to do a Q&A and taking the time to answer all the fans’ questions. This post got really long (almost 5000 words including your questions haha) so I put a keep reading line on this. Anyway, Stefan’s answers were super interesting to read, so enjoy! 🥅🏒

Thanks for your question. My idea has always been that Ludde was blown away by Felicia and that he really likes her but that they both initially interacted and met to go swimming because Felicia knew it would piss her dad off and Ludde knew that it might throw Elias off, since they were competing for the same position in the team. However after that, they really fell for each other. So he is very interested in her and so is she – however as of now in Season 2, Felicia’s behavior has thrown Ludde off since Felicia is still very angry with him due to Halloween and the reveal at Christmas.

Without telling to much on what’s ahead, the build up of Elias and Amies potential relationship from season 1 does matter and will play a role down the line of the series. But with that said Eagles has always, in my vision for the series been a 4-5 season concept. I did answer the question regarding Amie and Elias below in a longer format – it contains a little more info on the matter.

Will try to avoid potential spoilers but I can confirm that from the beginning of development of the series and the first version of the storyline a triangle drama was at some point intended for season 1 but later removed  – however when creating the characters, Ludvigs skill in music and arts was always there from the beginning so by knowing that, we always knew that interactions would appear between them. When looking back at Season 1, in the first scene by the lockers when Amie tells Felicia who Ludvig is, she does know exactly who he is and she is well aware of that his friend Tobias is a music guy that Amie wants to get to know. Also when looking at it, when I was the same age as Ludvig and Amie I, and I am sure a lot of people can relate to it, fact is that we never really knew if it was love or friendship in the beginning.

Actually my favorite NHL-team is the Boston Bruins and when writing the first version of the pilot episode for the show Boston was my choice of team. Back when I graduated high school my girlfriend, now my wife was an Au-pair outside of Boston so I visited the city for a couple of months. Later when I studied in Los Angeles I had a friend playing hockey in New Hampshire, where me and my wife spend one Christmas and paid regular visits to Boston. So it’s a town that I share a special connection with and that have a hockey team that I really love.

Thanks for your question, hope you watch season 2 soon. In my opinion her storyline is clearer this season than it was in the previous season and since Yandeh Sallah, who plays Amie is such an excellent actress I always wish for more scenes with her but I also do wish for that with all of our main characters – it’s time to fit them all in sometimes because our format is so short.

Bringing Jack in was actually originally not my idea, it came from my writer colleagues after that they revised my storyline notes for Season 2, while I was still down in Oskarshamn shooting Season 1. 

We had always intended for a character to come in and raise the stakes but I never imagined it to be Jack. When we started to develop the character, we all started liking him so he was kept in the story. Like with any new character we never really know who they are and what point of them for coming in is, so to not spoil anything I will let your question be unanswered, sorry. 

But what I can say is that Jack does have a backstory and a character arch that will answer a lot of questions about him and who is, it may not all be explained in Season 2, but hopefully if we get commissioned for a Season 3, you will get to know more about him.

I would say many of the storyline bits are loosely inspired on things/events that were in my surroundings when growing up, mainly I would say that the characters all have bits and pieces from friends or people I knew, but would definitely not say that the main storyline or the characters’ lives are based on my life or me growing up. When we started to work with the series in a writer’s room after having it commissioned and when summarizing the research, the original storyline was revised, updated and changed a lot in terms of drama and conflict. When me, Anton, Michaela, Fanny and season 1 director Amanda all came together we shared a lot of similar stories, experiences and of course some unique stories that were later all kind of built in to our characters and the show’s storyline. Same thing happened when our season 2 director Carl-Petter entered the Writers Room. To summarize I’d say that some things that could definitely be recognized from my teenage years, only that they are a wee bit heightened in order for it to be a good dramaturgy. But it is fun to think that there actually is a combination of people out there, that I knew or know that laid the basic foundation for Ludvig, Felicia, Amie, Elias, Klara, Andreas, Tobbe and the parents. 

I will not spoil anything but let me put it like this and like I said above. Eagles will always have room for more than just one love saga and the things established in season 1 is not something that we will ever just  throw away. However, in the storyline as it evolves some things may take longer than other and some things may happen faster than others. When working with such a short format as 8 or 10x20 minute episodes our job as a creative team has always been having to cut away pieces and push them forward in our story archs – with that said Eagles have according to my vision for the series always been a 4 to 5 season concept. In the Marvel Cinematic Universe it took about 21 films before Cap got Agent Carter – so even if you see things that you unlike that happens now, don’t forget that I and our team always follow our fans’ thoughts and that everything will hopefully make sense in the end. Also saying if everything just happened straight away – it wouldn’t be as exciting to watch. But to give one spoiler, there’s a thought-out path for them down the line, but can’t tell you more than that at the moment.

Thanks for your question and wow, what a tough one to answer. To me it’s a little like answering which one of your children you love the most. I have always been very protective of Ludvig and Felicia and it was quite tough for me to let other creatives come in and have opinions there – but I believe when letting my guard down and having to change a certain way that I had imagined them to be, act and behave, it changed my opinion a lot for the better. 

Having had all these characters in my head for so many years then having actors coming in, claiming them, changing them, making them their own was quite scary for me – however they all kind of blew my mind away which was one of the most amazing feelings I have ever experienced, and that goes for all of them. I feel so fortunate to get to work with such a talented cast and they still blow my mind with their talent every day on set. 

Thanks for your question, have received a few of these questions and answered one with quite a long answer but eventually, yes. It might take a while due to all the things that has happened to the characters with Felicia and Amie and since Elias has developed feelings for Klara – but nothing in Season 1 was for nothing and like said above – there’s a thought-out path for them down the line. 

I have answered the question regarding Amie and Elias and their potential romance and well, we are aware that many of you are rooting for them but we will always try to make choices that effect all of characters in the greater story arch and what in the storylines and the archs that make sense for them for the time being in their lives, in the series. I will not tell what the future plans for the characters are since SVT would probably kill me if I did – but if we get renewed for a season 3 and if we’re lucky enough to get to make a season 4 and that the actors still want to play their characters in the series, our intention will be to have Amie and Elias remain in the show up until the grand finale.

In addition, our plan for all of the characters in the series will always be to have them evolve within themselves and not only in their relationship with or to another character. Love and friendship will be always be the most important themes of Eagles but our goal is to show that no character or person is 1-dimensional being, but rather 3-dimensional and have different sides to their personalities that make them act the way they do.

Thanks for your questions and love that you share potential theories. Unfortunately I cannot reveal what is about to happen and what role they all play or how things evolve – what I can say is that most of your questions and raised concerns will be answered or dealt with in the course of this season and the ones that don’t won’t be forgotten and will eventually come to a resolution or maybe end up in an even bigger conflict. 

The answer to the question in short is, yes, it’s super difficult. 

The reason why it’s difficult is because hockey in real life and hockey in storytelling is a lot different and to me working out the esthetics of the hockey was very important when pitching the show. I come from Oskarshamn myself and have a lot friend who plays or have played ice-hockey growing up – to me the goal was to make them feel like they could recognize themselves in the universe of the hockey and that it would feel real enough – also my goal was that people with a hockey interest would like the hockey action sequences. Meanwhile we also had to make sure that we created a hockey universe on the rink that people who doesn’t like hockey could understand and grasp and that the hockey action sequences would be interesting for someone who doesn’t like hockey as well. So it was quite difficult where to start.

Before even being commissioned I had a long dialogue with one of my good friend and colleague Simon Ekbäck Nordström who is a former hockey player, and had played at junior elite level, who also work as a Technical Director and 1:st AD in the industry, to have him on the show and to build this universe together with him if the show would go into production. When we did and when season 1 director Amanda came in our biggest task was to find a cinematographer who could film on ice. When meeting with Gabriel Mkrttchian who I had worked with before he introduced a camera rig set up called a DJI Ronin that would be able to make us follow players on the ice as Gabriel would be able to skate with them. We tested it, and we loved it! That and an combined research where I and writer Anton met with players between the ages of 15-35, really gave us an understanding of what things in the culture of ice hockey that people had in common and what was more local to Oskarshamn. In the process we even met with former NHL-players, only to understand how Mats would feel having ended a successful career and how it was to leave the sport behind him to move back to Sweden.

After that followed a long work of preparing how to film the scenes in the shortest amount of time and make them as visually astonishing as possible. Simon and Gabriel worked long hours to do maps of plays that the players would do and how we would capture it, also with the account that we had to have images shot when the actors are seen combined with scenes that are done by bodydoubles – believe me it was a puzzle, but a fun one to lay out. When going into season 2 our goal was to take what we had created and expand it, something that both me and Simon feel that we did, especially with the end scene of Episode 5.

This might be a very long answer to your question but yes, its difficult but it’s also extremely fun. Like Simon told me before we shot the hockey scenes for the first season: “Let’s go out and invent the wheel”. In Season 2, we tried to improve that wheel and for a hopeful season 3 we hope to perfect it.

Yes, they do know that, which we tried to portray by having Klara being quite lonely in the start of season 2, she and Amie doesn’t talk, Felicia’s look angry at a nervous Klara when she returns to school – Amie also says after having had food thrown on her by Felicia, and Klara asks if she’s fine: “Are you happy now” as an indicator that this is all Klara’s fault. One might feel that she didn’t get to pay the consequences yet, maybe she will, maybe she won’t – can’t tell what will happen but we as a creative team has always said that Klara wasn’t really the worst person in that specific plot point, Ludvig and Amie, not telling Felicia was a lot worse. With that said Klara could’ve definitely had done it nicer.

Yes, I would say it was. To me it was obvious that having the Kroons separated from each other was inevitable when Elias signed for another team and in order for the story to include all of our main characters and to be able to move forward in our storyline without being stuck in the aftermath of season 1 for to long with so few episodes in a season, we felt that we did needed for some time to pass in order to get story going again.

I think if you went into the writers room of Eagles and asked all of us what really happened in that room we would all have different answers.  I know what happened, but I’m not sure we will ever truly know for sure, unless Ludvig or Amie eventually are open enough to admit to anyone what really happened.

He does and so does Felicia. As we know Felicia doesn’t like Klara, but what we do know is that she hates Ludvig and Amie even more now. Like the old saying goes: Don’t kill the messenger.

Regarding if Klara is going to become a better person. Klara is and has always been thought of to be quite a complex person – when we did our research and met with teenagers during the development of season 1 and when started to develop Klara, me and my colleagues all had known or did know a Klara kind of person. When growing up I knew a lot of people that were kind of like Klara and I didn’t like them but when getting to know them later on in life it always showed out that these people came from carrying quite heavy loads and came from complicated lives – when they grew older some of them changed some of them didn’t. Klara however is a mirror of a person that my goal as creator and that I share with my colleagues, is to be more than what meets the eye. In the end she is, just like everyone around her , trying to find a way to be – she was raised to be a certain way, the way she is and hopefully she will understand that there’s other ways to be, that are nicer and better. But like I said, some learn, some don’t. Some react different to the fear of losing a friend, Klara’s reacted like she did. Some react on being betrayed by throwing food on them – what is right what is wrong is a very individual thing.  The thing is we know why Felicia did embarrass Amie – but we might not know all that we need to know about Klara to fully understand why she is like she is yet.  

Our initial goal was to connect the IG to the show, however a tight budget and regulations from SVT since they’re a public broadcaster has not made it possible for us to do as much as we wanted. Hopefully though as the series evolve, we will be able to connect the two. It would be amazing if that could happen.

Well they all kind of had a great conflict that lead to quite complicated relationships to each other in the end of season 1 and now slowly interactions will start coming to life, some mending will be done and some will wait – but eventually down the line we will have them all together, under whatever circumstances that forces them to be together – but that is a spoiler for a much longer arch.

The answer is there will be scenes with them – they might not be like you all thought they would be – but I can tell you that the story of Amie and Elias in Eagles is far from over.

Well, I have answered most of the questions and there is a plan, maybe sooner, maybe later. Will use a Swedish saying: Den som väntar på något gott, väntar aldrig för länge which means ”The one who waits for something good, does never wait for too long” – I have always rephrased it to say “The one who waits for something good, always wait for too long” and with that said we have not seen the last of Amie and Elias.

Thank you so much for this question. I am very happy you asked about this scene, because to me it’s a very personal scene. In one of the questions above I was asked if there’s anything in the storyline that is inspired by my own time growing up in Oskarshamn and I answered that there are bits and pieces. This is one of those bits and pieces.

To answer your question as clearly as possible before broadening my view on the meaning of the scene I’d like to say that the scene could mean both. To me that’s the beauty of creating stories and having an audience view it - because our intention for a scene does not always have to match the way you as an auditor view or interpret it.

So for the long answer with trivial content for the one who has an extra minute :P.

According to my personal relationship to the scene and what our intention was, I’d say that is connected to her parents' situation. The basic foundation for this scene was actually born outside of the writers room when we had just finished the storyline for Season 2. I was sitting with our Technical Director and 1:st AD, Simon Ekbäck at his home as we started to lay out a possible shooting schedule for the season. Together we imagined the scenes together and tried to envision them in front of our eyes and how they would cut together. I remember shutting my eyes and telling Simon that the episode should end with Leila and Felicia pulling the car aside by the water and that Leila wouldn't be able to hold her tears in anymore - and that Felicia would witness this, try to hold her tears back and then fail at holding it in. The original scene as it had been discussed in the writers room was that they would cry in the car on the driveway, but I felt like they needed to get out of there and that this was a scene needed to take place somewhere else, somewhere more private. When later watching the final scene one could have copied my imagination of how the scene would look and pasted it in - that happens very rarely, that something becomes just like you imagined it. But for this scene it did happen, much thanks to Simon, Kristoffer, Carl-Petter and of course Alva and Charlotta.

My personal attachment to the scene and what it really means doesn’t have directly to do with Felicia being sad over her parents' situation, because it would be too soon for her to truly realize what Leilas decision means. When I was 21, a bit older than Felicia, my parents seperated and I remember talking to my mother alot, watching her crying, having to comfort her and carry her weight and that made me feel very uneasy. When later talking about this with friends and processing it, I was told and have come to the realisation that we as children in the best of worlds should never have to carry the weight of comforting our parents in a divorce - which so many of us are forced to do. This has been a lesson and realization that I’ve taken in as something to carry with me, since I have just become a father myself. 

I mean even if our parents when we’re growing up are looked upon by us, their children as superheroes, they are only human in the end. Growing up makes us realize this and that has always been an important theme of Eagles, to see the true colors of our parents.

Comforting my mother during my parents' separation was tough, because I felt sad as well but had no room to express it - even though that I might have needed it. I was old enough to handle it, but many teenagers are a lot younger than I was, and for many children these situations can be very tough. 

To summarize, the idea of the scene has always been that Felicia is forced to be the comfort to her mother's pain. When her mother shows her vulnerability in front of Felicia Felcia tries to remain strong and hold her tears in - but eventually the situation gets too personal and she can’t, but she tries to hide it from her mom, thus looking the other way, out from the window so that Leila won’t see her crying. 

To me the scene is not meant to be a critique towards parents but rather a depiction of when it happens and is as important for the young and older audience to see and reflect about - because divorces happen all the time, and way to often children are forced to carry their parents when according to me, parents should remain strong and carry the weight for their children instead. 

Long answer to a short question, but yet again thank you for bringing this scene up. I hope you are satisfied with the story of the scene and my view of its meaning.

Thank you so much for all of your questions - hope that my answers will make you happy. Since we’re in the middle of a season it’s hard for me to answer some of them since they would contain spoilers. I also want to thank director Carl-Petter Montell who added a few notes in my answers.

Last but not least I wanna thank Eagles-translated for all the great work that is done in gathering fans for the series - I also wanna thank all of you, fans who follow the series. To me as a creator producer of a series I always say that without you, we as a creative team and we as a series would be nothing. A series without an audience is no series - so thank you again for watching, sharing and caring about our work!