#especially because giving advantage out on the way out is just gravy

[peggle2speedrun]

There is a good discussion to have about how since Strixhaven was published, every table needed to have a second, different "Lucky Feat" conversation. However, as somebody who has eaten a lot of really bad crits:

[soulsoffairlight]

Do you have any info on what Radlynn is like in her monster mode? Does she still slip into it sometimes after the events?

Every time you ask me these questions just think of me seeing them as a happy little puppy dancing with joy because these questions really make me happy :)

Short answer: Yeah, she's still prone to slipping in it sometimes -- but it is rare. It seems to be a completely separate conscience and acts purely on emotional bursts, making it unpredictable and often dangerous.

Long answer:

Radlynn can go in and out of the "anthropomorphic" version of her radish-monster form at will, often doing so to take advantage of its size and abilities. However, one disadvantage, besides its exhausting size (8'2 ft), is its animalistic instincts. While not as bad as in the full beast form, these instincts make her act impulsively at times and overall weaken her reasoning.

So of course... the full beast form is a huge force to be reckoned with.

(This is an older drawing of it that I like better than the one on her current ref. It is slightly outdated)

She is almost twice her size in this form -- reaching 10 feet tall from the tip of her claws to the top of her head (leaves not included). As if going into the 8 foot anthropomorphic form isn't already exhausting enough, growing into this 10 foot form, not to mention the remainder of the body behind the front, is horribly disorienting -- perhaps even painful assuming she's wearing her blindfold. As a result, she will become very angry and even more unpredictable. With her large size and a lack of experience with it, she tends to be clumsy and accidentally destructive as a result. With its weight and usual strength combined, it is capable of breaking bones... which, one wrong move and that's sure to happen.

The weakest part of this creature is the roots around its neck, particularly the largest one, which is tucked beneath the outermost ring you see around her neck (and is poking out of the back.) Much like actual plants, it will use the tendrils to explore its surroundings in a more meaningful way, especially when blindfolded (though it has poor eyesight in general, something exclusive to this form.) However, this isn't its main form of observation. Much like Radley himself, it depends on a mix of gravi- and photo- tropism to 'see' ... which is something she has access to in all forms, giving them all the ability to navigate very efficiently while blindfolded. The only thing all forms have trouble with 'sight'-wise is color. This is ironic since she has inherited tritanopia (blue-yellow color blindness) from her biological father. Radley couldn't cure this when she cured her full blindness, nor is he aware of the fact that color blindness is even a thing.

It is purely instinct, pure feral animal. In this form, there is no Radlynn present. It's a humongous wild animal with hardly any control over its instinct. Thankfully, however, this means that it's vulnerable to being distracted. As a canine of sorts would, it constantly explores its surroundings when not occupied by a target. However, even when it's on the path of a target, throwing just about anything its way will cause it to stop and investigate. This is a powerful tool when it comes to cornering it.

Even with this being said, it does have a gentle side. While it can still be accidentally destructive, especially with its large, bulky tail, it shows affection to those Radlynn sees close, acting like an extremely large puppy of sorts. Its tail stalk and leaves are coated in soft fuzz, and it uses this as a sort of pillow when resting. However, it will pull people close with it and cuddle sometimes. :)

[toplinetommy]

Kill My Lonely Nights - Tyson Jost

a/n: after plotting and replotting this fic for over a month its finally here. my baby and definitely my most favorite thing ive ever written. hope everyone enjoys it as much as i do.

tagging @bqstqnbruin​ thanks for being my beta and for bouncing ideas around with me and also my fav josty whores 😇 @justjosty​ @hookingminor​ @farbutnevergone

Synopsis: tyson finally meets jt’s neighbor — and he’ll stick by her side through her ‘i’m a single and independent woman’ phase as long as jt doesn’t find out

songs: im so tired - lauv, troye sivan; better than heaven - slander; cherry on top - olmos, kyle reynolds

words: 20k+

warnings: alcohol, smut, unprotected sex​

“Tyson, you know my neighbor right?”

You roll your eyes at JT’s way of introducing the two of you, because, no, you did not know the curly-headed brunette in front of you. You had seen him in passing a few times when he was over at JT’s but you never learned his name. In fact, the only thing you knew about him was that they were teammates and you got that from deductive reasoning since he was always dressed in some sort of Avalanche merch. 

“I’m y/n,” you smile, sticking out your hand for the stranger to shake. 

“Tyson,” the no longer nameless stranger responds, a quirky smile on his lips.

“It’s nice to finally put a name to the face,” you respond, your cheeks heating up as you look over him. He’s cute in that quirky way where his head’s a mess of curls, his eyes full of joy, and his shoulders filling out the grey Avs hoodie quite nicely. 

“Same here,” Tyson agrees, shoving his hands into his sweatpants pockets. You continued to gather the few things in the living room that were yours before finding your phone charger and giving JT a hug. 

“I’ll see you when you get back from Chicago yeah?”

“Yep, have a good birthday!” JT cheers, from his spot on the couch.

With that you bid Tyson and JT a goodbye, choosing to wave at Tyson instead of showing an outright affection towards the stranger. The door shuts behind you as you walk a few feet down the carpeted hallway to your own door. 

“Dude,” Tyson starts, turning his attention back on his buddy from where it was lingering on the now-closed door. 

“No-”

“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say!” Tyson incredulously interrupts.

“You’re gonna tell me she’s hot because, yeah, anyone can see that. She’s going through this thing she’s been calling a ‘guy cleanse’,” JT explains, putting finger quotes around guy cleanse. Tyson brushes the comment aside, not bothering to ask any more questions. If he’d want to get to know you, he knows he’d have to do it without JT’s help. JT always had this thing of being overprotective over the women in his life, especially being a guy that grew up in hockey with three little sisters.

Another week or so passes before Tyson sees you again. It’s when he’s getting into the elevator after getting dinner with his JT, and you’re just getting home from what Tyson presumes is work and maybe even the liquor store with the purse and lunch box hanging in the crease of your elbow as well as the case of Truly’s in your other hand.

“Hey, it’s y/n, right?” Tyson says in lieu of a greeting. He holds the elevator open for you as you step out, thinking of ways to keep the conversation longer than a simple greeting. 

“Yeah,” you smile, warmly at him. He can see that your hands are full as you try to shovel through your bag in search of your keys as you take another step towards your door towards the end of the hallway. “Well, uh, have a good night Tyson.”

Tyson watches as you turn away with a small smile, and suddenly he’s stumbling over his words, trying to make the moment last longer. He’s rarely ever seen you around, most times in passing in this very hallway and the occasional time JT talked to you on the phone when they were on the road. You didn’t go to games, you didn’t hang out with the team, and you were never over at JT’s when Tyson would show up.

But when he had officially met you the other week when you were leaving JT’s apartment, he was transfixed and curious about the girl JT always talked about but never brought around.

“Do you wanna come in for a drink?” You ask, nodding to the case in your hand. You’re asking as more of a common courtesy than anything else, but you can tell that he’s waiting for you to make the next move regarding this run-in with him. The peachiness of his cheeks and his hands shoved into his jacket pockets are proof of that.

“You sure?”

“Any friend of JT is a friend of mine,” you smile, opening your front door and gesturing for Tyson to go in before you.

“Yeah, okay,” Tyson smiles, taking another step towards you and reaching out for the box of Truly’s. “Let me take that for you.”

Tyson graciously takes the case from you and steps through the doorway of your apartment, suddenly losing any train of thought he once had now that he’s in an apartment he’s never been in. He sees the fridge across the way and decides he’ll just stick the drinks in there. There’s thankfully space in the fridge for them and he watches you shred your raincoat and heels by the door. “So, uh, how do you know JT? Like, I know you guys are neighbors but he’s always referring to you as his best friend. I honestly didn’t even know that you lived next to him until the other week.”

You laugh, thinking back to how you even met JT. It was nowhere near being a typical introduction between neighbors, it was honestly pretty far from that. “So, whenever he first moved here like two years ago, I was sitting in my car in the parking garage on the phone with my dad, and this car parks next to me and the driver gets out and completely dings my car. I’m talking a paint scratch that’s starting to rust now.”

“He’s pretty unaware of his space,” Tyson laughs, knowing all too well that his friend did something like that.

“And so, I get out of my car, and I confront him about it, and he apologizes and whatever, not a big deal. But then he gets off the elevator with me and I’m thinking this guy’s gotta be a creep since he’s barely talking to me but then he pulls out his keys and is unlocking the door next to mine, and now he bugs me all the time,” you smile, Tyson making space for you to go into the fridge he’s currently standing in front of. 

“You see that picture frame over there?” you nod your head to the wall your TV is mounted on. Tyson walks over to it, inspecting it and noting that neither of the people in it are you or JT. “There’s paint missing behind it because when he was helping me mount my TV he hit the wall with the drill. He got me the frame to cover it but I still haven’t gotten around to putting a picture there.”

Tyson’s eyebrows quirk up, “and how long has it been there?”

“Uh, maybe a year?” you answer, your tone making it sound more like a question as you blush. Tyson only laughs at you, fully understanding how something like that can slip from your mind. You offer him a Truly at that, him not missing an opportunity to chirp you since your flavor of choice was lime, even though his was black cherry, which in your mind was the most basic flavor there was.

He sits across from you at the island while you stand opposite of him, leaning on the granite in front of you. He can’t get enough of your laughter, finding it’s something you do quite often as the two of you share stories. You, on the other hand, have to stop yourself from blushing since he doesn’t break eye contact with you once. It’s starting to get late and you still haven’t eaten dinner, so with an empty Truly in hand, Tyson is reluctantly getting up to head home to prepare for his early practice and flight tomorrow. He doesn’t want to impose on you any further, considering you were essentially strangers an hour ago.

You wave goodbye at him as he walks down the hallway to the elevator, a smile on your face as he nearly runs into Mr. Harter, the man that lives at the end of the hallway. You laugh as he apologizes profusely, something you amount to his Canadian upbringing.

Tyson curses himself over the next few days for not getting your number, and there’s no way in hell he’s asking JT for it. He doesn’t know how he’ll go about getting it, and the possibility of him running into you to get it is slim, with the fact that the Avs have a nine-day roadie on the upper East Coast. He figures he’ll try to ask JT more about you over the course of the trip, and then hopefully weasel his way into getting it.

It’s three days into the roadie and they’re sitting next to each other on the flight from Ottawa to Toronto. JT is busy on his iPad, and Tyson looks around him, seeing Cale and Gravy reading books, and G is passed out behind him. Tyson nudges JT’s shoulder with his, JT pulls out his AirPod and looks towards his buddy.

“So, y/n, eh?” He jumps right in, watching as JT rolls his eyes and moves to put his AirPod back in. “You said she doesn’t date?”

“Correct.”

“Why’s that? She seems like she wouldn’t have any issue in that department.”

“First off, that’s gross. Secondly, even if she was dating, you aren’t allowed to try anything,” Tyson chooses to ignore that part but continues to listen anyway. “She’s just like focused on herself, I don’t know. She knows her worth and knows what she deserves. She’s been single for as long as I’ve known her. It’s no bullshit with her, in every aspect of her life.” JT shrugs his shoulders as he talks. He’s not an expert on the topic because it’s not one you really talk about with him considering it’s just not really a huge part of your life.

Tyson hums along as he listens to JT talk, trying his best not to show why he’s even asking these questions in the first place. He takes what his friend says in stride, not being one to have gone through a phase like the one you’re going through. In fact, Tyson’s never been someone to say no to a date, fully taking advantage of the pro-athlete lifestyle he’s been living for years now. JT knows this, knows what it’s like to be 22, and all eyes on you. 

He was there once, but he’s been with Sydney for over two years now. JT knows the locker room talk that goes on within hockey teams, he’s been living it his whole life. Yeah, the Denver room has been the best and the calmest when it comes to comments about guys’ dating lives, but the occasional whistle and chirp is made when one of the single guys has a story to share. The last thing he wants is to hear your name in one of those scenarios.

He doesn’t get your number during that road trip, can’t even find you on social media so he puts his efforts on pause. He even went through the list of people JT followed, your name not coming up once. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know your last name.

Soon January is ending and February is starting, the season kicking into high gear as the all-star breaks ends and the playoff push truly begins. Tyson still hasn’t seen you around other than the occasional run-in, and you honestly haven’t given him much thought since that night in late January. Your life has always been chaotic, but still in the most organized way, and you’ve barely seen JT with the way his game schedule is laid out. But the middle of February brings Sydney to town and brings too many parties while she’s around.

It’s at Andre’s place where you see Tyson again, warm pleasantries shared between the two of you. He’s a little confused as he watches you chat with almost everyone there, the weird feeling coming from the fact that most people filling the apartment are on the Avalanche roster. He wonders if you’ve already met most of them or if you’re just that outgoing.

Tyson finally makes his way over to you, two cans in hand as he offers you the one with green lettering with a smile.

“A lime White Claw? That’s the way to my heart,” you joke, placing your hand over your heart before taking his offering.

“I was asking around to see if there were any Truly’s,” Tyson laughs, waving his hand around. “But I hope the White Claw is okay.”

“A White Claw definitely isn’t as good as a Truly but it’s a close second, thank you.”

“Right!” Tyson agrees, “People think they all taste the same but there’s a clear hierarchy of which seltzers are better than others.” You laugh along with Tyson at his comment in complete agreement. You tell him your own tier list of seltzers, starting with Truly’s and ranking the Bud Light ones as the worst.

“I’ve only had a few of them, but I’ll take your word for it,” The laughter between the two of you dies down before JT finds you, saying he’s been looking for you for a little bit.

“It’s not my fault I’m hidden by all these huge men,” you roll your eyes, pointing around the room that’s filled with men all over six feet tall.

“Did you know your neighbor was a hard seltzer connoisseur?” Tyson asks with a quirk of his eyebrow, causing you to scoff. You were nowhere being a ‘connoisseur’ of sorts.

JT takes a sip of his drink, “She’s an alcohol connoisseur period, bud.” WIth that JT disappears to go find his girlfriend, leaving the two of you alone. Tyson’s face is filled with confusion at JT’s comment, not entirely sure what his comment even meant.

“I used to bartend in college,” you answer his silent question. “Which makes me JT’s personal bartender most nights.”

“Maybe I’ll have to get you to make me a drink sometime then,” Tyson suggests. It’s a little too forward for his liking but it just slips out, and you giggle at his attempt at flirting. His tan cheeks have a pink flush to them, and you’re sure it’s not from the alcohol since most people have only been here for an hour or so.

“C’mon,” you nod your head in the direction of the kitchen. Tyson silently follows you, weaving between the people and the furniture. “I can get you that drink right now.”

Once you make it to the kitchen you look around the counters, taking note of the different types of liquors laid out. Tyson watches you as your hands move around, picking up and setting down various bottles. When you’re satisfied with your concoction, you hand him a shot glass, one in your own hand to match his.

“It’s a shooter,” you inform him. He puts trust in you, clinging your glass with his own and bringing the glass to his lips as he tips his head back. Your eyes stay on him as his tongue pokes out to swipe the extra liquid off his lips before you realize you haven’t even taken yours yet. His eyes stay locked on you as you throw your own shot back, your eyes reconnecting when you set the glass on the counter next to you.

A shiver runs through you as his eyes watch your every move. You hadn’t noticed it with any of your other previous run-ins with him but he’s intimidating in that way where his presence is radiating that good kind of confidence. You watched him, unbeknownst to him, as he made his way around the room before ever making it to you.

“So what was that you just gave me?” He asks, crossing his ankles and leaning further on the counter behind him. You move to stand next to him, your shoulder brushing his cotton-covered bicep.

“It’s called a lemon drop shot, it’s just vodka and lemon juice so nothing too special,” you shrug, turning to look up at him. “Maybe I’ll get around to making you more drinks.”

Tyson smirks lightly at your comment, his hands gripping the counter behind him. He remembers what JT told him not too long ago about you, and how you’re someone that doesn’t put up with bullshit when it comes to relationships and his heart deflates a bit. He’d much rather keep talking to you and eventually kiss you, but he knows deep down that’s not what he wants with you either. He can tell from your brief encounters that this could be way more than just a few dates, so he holds back and instead bites his lip before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

He passes it over to you, and you hesitate taking it as you look between the black phone and his brown eyes, “so we can plan a time for you to make me drinks.”

“Ah, I see, I see,” you quip back, taking the phone from his hands and opening a new message and typing in your phone number. You respond back to him on your phone, showing that you got the text and opening up the contact to save his information. “Should I put in some funny name for your contact or is Tyson good enough?”

Tyson laughs fully at that, his chest rumbling for a moment before he calms down and tells you his name is just fine for now, “but I won’t complain if you find a better name for me.” Tyson scratches the back of his head for a moment as he places his phone onto the counter next to him, trying to find the words to keep the conversation going.

You leave not too long after that, catching an Uber with JT and Sydney back to your place. Tyson stays near your side most of the night, giving you a full hug as you leave and a promise of texting you soon.

You see Tyson the next morning at brunch with JT and Sydney, his strong, muscular thighs touching yours in the small booth. You get some fancy french toast, Sydney eyeing you from where she sits across from you. She’s been a close friend of yours ever since JT introduced the two of you whenever she first visited. Her eyes keep flicking between you and Tyson and you give her a stern look, silently telling her to knock it off.

“So, y/n,” she starts, a smirk forming on her lips. “How’s the dating life?”

You scoff with a laugh at her question. She knows well enough how that aspect of your life is doing considering you text her on a pretty regular basis. You choose not to answer, the scoff you let out being enough. 

“Besides, no guy is good enough for her, right?” JT asks, looking over at you continuing his girlfriend’s train of thought. His eyes glance over at Tyson sitting next to you and Tyson ignores the look his teammate gives him. 

“You mean the idiots you always try to set me up with? The ones that don’t live in Denver?” You quip back with a raise of your eyebrows. It’s more of a joke than anything else, but Tyson doesn’t quite understand your tone and mannerisms yet.

His heartbeat speeds up momentarily, thinking that if you hadn’t had any interest in any of JT’s other friends, you definitely wouldn’t have an interest in him. Besides, he may live in Denver now, but that’s not even the whole year when you account for traveling and the offseason.

You miss it, but Tyson changes the subject anyways, which is something you’re grateful for. Brunch passes by and when the waitress comes back with two checks, you knit your eyebrows.

“Actually, could I have my own check? We aren’t together,” you stumble, cheeks heating up at the misinterpretation of yours and Tyson’s relationship.

Tyson takes the check from your outstretched hand, “it’s fine, I got it.”

He’s talking more to you than to the waitress as he smiles warmly at you. You thank him quickly, but not before saying you have enough cash to take care of the tip. He doesn’t argue, following the three of you out of the restaurant and to your car. The two of you linger a little further back than JT and Sydney, both of you reveling in the comfortable silence. 

“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” You ask.

“Not really, I was probably gonna call my mom and maybe do my laundry,” Tyson answers.

“Do you want to come over and hang out instead? I’m just gonna third wheel the two of them but maybe we can find something to do that’s more interesting than laundry.”

Tyson laughs at the third wheeling comment you make, being all too familiar with being the third wheel around most of his friends. “Sure, yeah, I’ll just follow you all then?”

“That sounds good. I’ll see you in a few,” you say goodbye with a smile and a shy wave, hopping into the backseat of JT’s SUV.

Once you get home, Tyson’s knocking on your door a few minutes later with the same warm smile he seems to always have. He sheds his winter coat as he enters your apartment, throwing it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He notes the change in clothes, as you’re now wearing an olive green crewneck instead of the wrap top with flowy sleeves you were wearing at the restaurant a few moments prior.

“You a big reader?” He asks, picking up and inspecting the book that’s laid out on the kitchen island. The Power of Now, it reads on the cover. He flips through the first few pages and goes to the back cover to read the reviews.

“Sometimes, it depends on what it is, but I usually just go through phases where I read in all of my free time and then I won’t touch a book again for the next few months,” you admit with a small laugh. “That one’s really good so far though. It’s just about how to live more presently and in the moment.”

Tyson nods his head as he listens, his eyes on you as you speak, “Cale really likes reading this kind of stuff, I should tell him about it.”

“Which one is Cale, again?” You ask, mentally going through the Colorado roster. 

This causes Tyson to laugh, “JT really doesn’t bring you around much, eh.”

You laugh along with him, “not really, but that’s on me sometimes. I go to bed too early for my own liking.”

Tyson’s confused as to why he’s never really seen you before at anything. Guys on the team are always bringing their friends around if they can. At first he thought he just always missed you, but he knows he wouldn’t miss someone as carefree and beautiful as you. Nevertheless, he’s glad he’s sitting in your kitchen right now, and to top it all off, he didn't even have to ask you to hang out first.

“Do you read at all?” You ask curiously. You really knew next to nothing about the man in front of you other than that he was Canadian, played hockey, and preferred Truly’s over White Claws (his favorite flavor was still to be unknown to you).

Tyson chokes out a laugh at your question, “No. When we travel I usually play random games with Sammy and he’s been teaching me French. I still don’t know much so don’t go asking me to say anything.”

“Duly noted,” you nod. You move to the pantry, looking for a few things as you continue to respond. “Like I said, my interest in reading comes in waves and you barely speaking French is better than me only knowing English.”

You continue rifling through your pantry, pulling out everything you know you need. You’ve just finished setting all of the dry ingredients you’d need to make brownies when Tyson asks you what the hell you’re doing.

“I was thinking we could make brownies,” you respond, opening your fridge and pulling out the milk, butter, and eggs. You hear the island chair scratch against the hardwood, indicating Tyson getting up.

“Wait a second,” Tyson says causing you to turn around with a confused look on your face. “Are these the brownies Comph always bringing around that his friend makes?”

“They very much are,” you chuckle. He compliments the baked good one more time before you’re putting him to work. The two of you move seamlessly through your small kitchen, both of you sharing smiles and stories to fill the time. There’s a moment where you see a certain glimmer in his eyes paired with a small smirk and you think he’s about to pull one of his infamous Jost pranks that JT was always telling you about. He doesn’t though, and instead just nudges your hip with his. It seems like you’re looking more at him more than focusing on the flexing of his forearms as he mixes the dry ingredients.

Once it’s time to mix the dry and wet ingredients, Tyson all but misses half the bowl, causing a good chunk of it to land on your crewneck and jeans. The brown powder covered the ‘Disney World’ logo across your chest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Tyson rushes out, holding back a laugh, because of course he would embarrass himself in front of you and mess up something as simple as that. You move to the sink, shaking off the loose contents into it to help alleviate any sort of mess.

“You’re fine, I promise,” you reassure, turning around to give him a smile. He smiles nervously back at you, not fully knowing your statement was genuine or if you were trying to spare his feelings. He glanced at your chest, trying to see the damage he had done before realizing he was staring directly at your chest and his cheeks flushed. You walked back over to where he was standing, giving him another smile as you began mixing everything together. 

“Would you, uh, ever wanna grab dinner with me some time?” He asks, voice higher than normal as he speaks, his heart beating nervously for your answer. Your face falls as you hear the question and you slowly turn around to face the curly headed brunette. Tyson is a great guy, it’s obvious to everyone, and you’re not oblivious to the fact that there’s physical attraction between the two of you. It’s that Tyson is best friends with your best friend who also happens to be your neighbor.

You laugh nervously at the question, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere, before you respond, “Sure, it’s not like it’s a date or anything.” 

You brush it off, even though you’re pretty sure he was explicitly asking you out on a date. You turn your focus back to the brownies, popping them in the oven before wandering down your hallway to change into something clean. As Tyson walks over to take a seat on the couch, he sees your retreating figure as you pull your sweatshirt over your head. He stops in his tracks momentarily, seeing your bare back, the skin between your shoulder blades covered by your lacy bralette. He blinks a few too many times as he shakes any thoughts from his head and continues his path to the couch.

Your guys’ friendship quickly develops after that. The two of you starting a snapchat streak and having a long string of text messages involving various TikTok’s and memes alongside the more serious stuff. You seem to be spending more time at JT’s place when Tyson is also there and soon enough Tyson’s leaving JT’s and going the few extra feet to your place instead of home like he says he’s doing.

It’s one of those rare nights where it’s the three of you at JT’s place and you’re all catching up on the latest episode of Hell’s Kitchen. You’re pretty sure JT cheated and watched the new episode already with how quiet he’s being and how absorbed he is in his phone.

“JT, did you already fucking watch this?” You ask, whipping your head to look at the ginger in question. He’s sitting across the room from you in what he claims as ‘his chair’ while you’re sharing the sectional with Tyson, your feet in his lap. “And you wonder why I never watch shows with you. Tyson and I are going to start watching it without you.”

Tyson chuckles at that, his thighs rumbling under your ankles, his hands coming to rest atop of your shins. JT scoffs at you, unaware of your two’s newfound friendship. To him, the only time you ever saw or even talked to Tyson was when he was also around. Besides, he didn’t need to know the ins and outs of every single thing you did in a day, even if Tyson was involved in a good portion of those things.

You let JT’s previous actions of watching your show ahead slide since the episode was finally wrapping up. JT goes back to the Hulu home screen with an exaggerated yawn followed by stretching his arms above his head. It’s then he turns to his two best friends, letting them know he’s going to start heading to bed and that the two of you are more than welcome to hang out for a little while longer. He doesn’t think much of his offering, but it’s one Tyson’s thankful for if it means he gets uninterrupted time with you that isn’t revolving around the team or drinking.

It’s then he remembers how he never found you on social media, something that had bewildered him in the moment but one he forgot about once he got your phone number and snapchat. 

“So, this is gonna sound totally weird but do you have an Instagram?” He asks, infliction in his voice and ears turning pink at the question. He remembers how not too long ago he did some heavy duty deep dives into JT’s social media to see if he could find your name only to come up empty handed. Your stomach tightens and the thought of him looking for you, and you definitely don’t take it the weird way he’s insinuating.

“No, I don’t,” you respond, sitting up further in the corner of the couch, Tyson bravely holding onto your ankles. “Which definitely makes me the outlier of our generation. I had it for a while but then I kinda just got sick of it and how fake it was starting to get, so I deleted my account. I have not missed even once, too.”

He nods his head in understanding, he’s been there, especially with being a professional athlete. “I’ve been there. I deleted my twitter a while ago because every time I got on there some nobody would be in my notifications about how I was playing. I really didn’t need that, ya know? Like, I play hockey for a living and I’m very aware of when I’m underperforming. So, it was hard when I would get on my phone and see other people telling me the same things.”

Tyson’s fingers began to brush comfortably over your shins and ankles as he spoke, causing you to start slouching back into the couch. 

“I’ve gone back and forth with deleting Instagram but I just can’t seem to make a decision. Besides, I only follow my friends and musicians I like.”

“It’s definitely not for everyone,” you agree with a hum. “The biggest plus is that it gets me off my phone and I’m more absorbed with the real world. It’s all in that book I was reading a while ago that you asked about.”

Tyson remembers that conversation, a smile falling on his lips as he hands rub higher and higher on your calf. The movements are causing you to yawn not a minute later, but you try hard to keep your eyes open to continue to hang out with Tyson. “You a big music guy then?”

Tyson scoffs with a small, playful grip on your leg, “I get the aux in the locker room, so I’d say so. Not a big deal.”

You laugh at his joking manner, snuggling deeper into JT’s couch. Tyson notices how sleepy you’re becoming and he gives your leg another squeeze.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” Tyson suggests as he slips from underneath you to his feet.

You chuckle at that, considering you're more than capable to walk the few feet from JT’s door to your own. Before you can respond saying just that, Tyson’s reaching his hand for yours to help you off the couch.

“My mom raised me to be a gentleman, so I’m walking you home even if it is down the hall.”

You accept his offer, the two of you walking in silence until you’re pushing your key into the lock. You turn back to Tyson once you’ve cracked your door open, wanting to take in the silent, all-too-relationship-like feeling this scenario is. Tyson’s eyes drift from where they’re focused on your eyes to your lips, before he’s scratching the back of his head, a sign of nervousness you’ve quickly caught on to.

“Goodnight, Tyson,” you smile softly, leaning up on your sock clad toes to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a hug. His arms wrap around your middle; his back bending over at an awkward angle to properly reach you. You breathe in his musky scent as his hands spread out over the small of your back. The scruffiness of his beard against the side of your face has you giggling as you pull away. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” Tyson reciprocates your smile, walking a few steps backwards before finally turning around and heading to the elevator. Your eyes linger on his toned thighs and maybe even his butt under the cotton of his joggers as he walks the all too familiar way hockey players walk, before finally entering your apartment.

JT’s sitting on your couch this time around, rather than you sitting on his, a too large glass of wine perched in his hand as the two of you catch up. He’s been busy with morning skates and a string of back-to-backs with a road game sprinkled in the middle. It’s getting to be that part of the season where it’s ‘all gas, no breaks’ as he likes to say. They had an earlier than normal game today due to it being a national broadcast on a Sunday, so the two of you ordered take out from one of your usual spots and parked your asses on your couch for the night.

“I feel like we haven’t had best friend time in so long,” JT groans, sipping down the remnants of his wine before standing up for a refill.

“Not all of us can travel the continent on a regular basis,” you chirp with a laugh, one JT matches. The tv show murmurs in the background, it’s one you completely forgot about as JT relates stories and updates on his sisters to you.

“I still can’t believe Jesse graduates soon,” JT starts. “Like, soon when we go to Boston it won’t be the annual family trip since two of the kids are actually in the same city for a change.”

“But that’s so awesome for her, you have to remember that. How’s her season going?”

“They’re doing good, winning games and taking names, she’s really stepped into her captaincy role.” The smile on JT’s face is contagious, causing you to mirror it. You had only met his family a handful of times, only whenever they made the trip out to Denver every now and then. His sister’s, even if you didn’t talk to them regularly, were like your own at this point. JT loved to joke that you were the third sister he never wanted but still somehow ended up with. It was part of the reason he was always trying to set you up with his friends, because to him, if he already knew them, then he knew he trusted them with you. It was more of a joke when it first started over a year ago, but the guy’s he mentioned started to become more serious considerations on your end before you ended up always telling him no.

You were more than okay with being single, being independent, being a woman that never looked for male validation and instead lived life purely for yourself and the people you choose to include with you in that life. JT understood that more than anyone else, that’s why the thoughts you consistently had about Tyson were being shoved deep down inside of you in fear that JT would laugh at the idea and tell you not a chance in hell. It’s why those times you caught each other staring you never did anything about it, or how JT was still unbeknownst to the close friendship you started with him.

It’s why now there’s a silence between the two of you as you take a too-long sip of your wine, a way to stall before opening your mouth and getting JT’s opinion on all of this. You set your glass down on your thigh, your spare hand running along the stem of the glass as you start to speak, avoiding looking over at JT as you do so,

“You know how I don’t date or whatever,” you start, your lip caught between your teeth. You glance over at the redhead on the other couch, seeing him knit his eyebrows as he sets his phone down next to him.

“Yeah,” he draws out, confusion laced in his tone

“Well, I was thinking of maybe getting back out there or something,” you shrug your shoulders, unsure of how to really continue this conversation so you end up on the topic of Tyson being that someone you get back out there with.

“Did someone ask you out?” JT immediately asks with a shake of his head, wondering where all of this is coming from. His full attention is on you now and there’s no way to avoid his eyes as you respond.

“No, I was just thinking about it, I don’t know.”

“Did you, like, have someone in mind?” JT asks, the definitive knit in his forehead still there.

You purse your lips in thought. This would be the time to drop his teammate’s name you think to yourself. His name is heavy on your tongue as you take one more sip of your drink, “Tyson’s kinda cute.”

You say it simply, with a shrug in your shoulders, hoping the ease of your posture radiates towards JT. It doesn’t, just as you expect, a choked out cackle leaving his lips, before he says a harsh ‘no’. The comment deflates you, the knot in your stomach only tightening, mainly because you weren’t really asking him a question and just trying to get that thought out into the open for the first time. JT doesn’t read that as you respond back, telling him was just a thought anyways.

You drop it at that, thoughts running through your head of your close friendship with his teammate, one that’s very close to blurring that line between just friends and something more. It's a problem for another day you think, shoving the thought to the back of your mind as Tyson’s name flashes across your phone screen.

A few more weeks pass of Tyson and you hanging out at JT’s apartment, only for Tyson to follow you to your own apartment before he’d leave for the rink for his game. He slowly began going through his pre-game routine at your place, only to leave with JT under the guise that they would carpool together since his apartment building was on his way to Ball Arena.

Tyson’s cooking his pregame meal in your kitchen, something he had yet to do but when you had told him you had never eaten squash the other day, he made a point to make it his favorite way, even if it meant eating dinner at 4:30. His game day suit was hanging by his coat in your coat closet, you wouldn’t tell him but it was your favorite suit of his. The navy cashmere made the highlights in his dark brown hair pop out and was a nice contrast to his tan skin. He was taking the squash out of the oven, laughing as you made yet another comment on not knowing that was how a squash was cooked.

“What does a squash even taste like?” You ask, peering over the kitchen table to watch him as he places the pan onto the oven to cool down. The bright yellow and oranges of the fruit freak you out a bit, but the smell of garlic and parmesan cheese brings a smile to your face.

“It’s like earthy and nutty, I don’t know. I’m not a Food Network chef.”

The comment has you rolling your eyes with a laugh as you stand up from your chair to retrieve plates and silverware. 

“What are you doing?” Tyson asks with a whip of his head as his eyes follow your movements.

You look at him quizzically, pausing your movements on your tippy toes as you reach for the dinner plates, “setting the table?”

“I can do that,” Tyson starts, reaching out for the plates in your hand and setting them on the counter in front of you. “I’m the one cooking.”

“Exactly,” you reason, “And this is my apartment so I know where everything is.”

“I’m wining and dining you, well minus the wine since I have a game.” Tyson shrugs, tending to the squash on the pan and the veggies surrounding it. “That reminds me, the guys are going out after the game, you should come.”

You move around the kitchen as he speaks, filling up two glasses of water to set on the table. He plates the food as he finishes speaking and sets them on the table. It looks colorful and delicious and you’re shocked he can cook something that seems so complicated, especially since you know JT can only cook a burger and some random pasta dish.

“Well, I am going to the game so I don’t see why not,” you finally answer. You hadn’t gone out in weeks it seemed like, mainly due to your earlier than normal mornings and that you were the only single one out of most of your friends. All of your coworkers lived with their partners and were usually the type to bail on a night out so they could stay home. The few single friends you did have lived on completely different schedules than you, so they were either getting home late from work which was around the same time you’d need to call it a night, or were like you and too worried about early mornings to do anything.

But it was a Thursday, and you had taken the weekend off so it was a perfect time to catch your first Avs game of the season, even if it was already a few days into March and the season was halfway over. The both of you eat your dinner with a few laughs, Tyson telling you about how he forced himself to learn to cook over the past two years of living by himself. He even shared a few horror stories of when he lived with JT and Kerf, giving you plenty of dirt to use as blackmail if necessary. 

“Dinner was really good, thank you,” you acknowledge standing up and grabbing his plate from him.

“You liked the squash, eh?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” you reply playfully. He knew you liked it with how quickly you scarfed it down and the profuse compliments you offered him. As you clear off the dishes and load the dishwasher, Tyson disappears down the hall only to reappear dressed in his suit, save for the jacket and tie. 

“Who are you sitting with tonight? I never asked.” Tyson speaks, making the job of tying his tie look easy as he’s not even looking in the mirror to do so.

“Oh, my coworker, Amelia, and her girlfriend, Gabby,” you respond, leaning back against the counter as you watch Tyson finish up with the details of his suit like putting his cufflinks on and checking his hair in the mirror by your front door.

For a reason Tyson knows too well but ignores, a weight falling off his shoulders as he hears you saying you’re not going with a potential date. But then again, he knows you’re not dating and you more than likely would’ve declined his offer to go out afterward if that were the case. Tyson checks his watch for the time, seeing it’s about time to knock on JT’s door to grab him.

“So, I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”

“Yep, I’ll meet you and JT down by the locker rooms so we can all head out together. Maybe I’ll finally get to meet the infamous Cale.”

The Avs scoot by with a tough division win, one that’s needed to put them in first place in the Central by two points. You’re standing in the hallway of the locker rooms among the other WAG’s that you don’t really recognize due to your lack of knowledge on who’s who. Your nose is buried deep in your phone as you shoot off a text to Amelia telling her to let you know when she gets home safely when you recognize Tyson’s familiar Canadian accent followed by JT’s booming laughter. The two of them reach you, both of them giving you quick hugs before walking to the parking garage.

“Who’s jersey you got on there?” Tyson asks with a nudge of his shoulder into yours. You look down at the 19 stitched into your shoulder with a smirk.

“Only the best Av to ever play the game,” you respond, to which JT rolls his eyes. Tyson’s look of confusion doesn’t change as you answer, still pretty keen to the fact that you’ve never really talked hockey with him besides the stories about practices he’d share with you. “Never told you I didn’t like hockey, just said I never went to games.”

“I’ve tried to get her one of my jerseys and she literally told me she’d return it,” JT interrupts before Tyson can respond. You open your mouth to chirp him back but before you can, JT is calling shotgun once Tyson’s car is in view.

The bar isn’t as packed as you thought it would be, given half of the Avalanche roster was occupying more than a few booths. Andre takes a seat across from where you’re sandwiched between JT and Tyson - a seating arrangement you’re not sure how you got in.

The first round of drinks slowly turns into the third, and you’re no longer squished between two bruly hockey players since JT has found a home at the pool table with Nate and Naz. You had finally met Cale, the blush on cheeks matching Tyson’s description of them. You shared book recommendations with one another while Tyson had wandered off to the bar. It’s then you learn that Tyson’s kind of taken him under his wing, despite the very small age gap and that they live in the same building. Your eyes catch him as he chats with the bartender and a dirty blonde that’s close to his height that you very much did not recognize.

She’s all legs and has an award winning smile from what you see from fifteen away. Tyson’s turned away from you, his back facing you, and if you could see his face filled with that smile that’s showing he’s just trying to be polite to the stranger.

It’s then that you start to fully allow yourself to notice not only the physical attraction you feel towards your new friend, but the emotional one as well. It’s not overwhelming by any means, but the pit in your stomach can only be described as jealousy — a feeling you don’t have much experience with. 

You see two new glasses being set in front of them at the same time, assuming that Tyson had bought the stranger a drink. That pit in your stomach only tightens, the smile on your face from Cale’s story falling as you continue to watch them interact. 

The pair only talk for a few minutes before the girl walks away, a defeated look on her face. With he departure, you make your way across the hardwood floor to meet him at the bar, nudging his side lightly as you mirrored his stance. He smiled as you greeted him, noting that this was the first time in hours he got you all to himself. You were just as outgoing as he and JT were, always butting into conversations when you had something to say. 

“I never asked if you had fun at the game,” he asks, voice somehow still soft even in the loudness of the bar. His voice raises goosebumps on your arms, as you hum before responding.

“It was fun, definitely a good game, just a little too much third wheeling for my liking but I’ll take what I can get.”

The comment is a nod to the feeling Tyson knows all too well, one the two of you seem to always share funny stories about with a dramatic use of eye rolls. You ignore the fact that not even a few minutes prior you were plotting that girl’s death, too busy and entranced with Tyson’s presence.

The night continues to pass with just the two of you in your own little world. You find yourself up on your tiptoes, an arm resting on his muscular bicep as you lean up to speak into his ear. His lips move alongside your temple as he speaks, the scruff of his beard against your forehead causing you to giggle. You’re not even sure if JT or any of the other guys are even still around, but your bubble pops as JT calls your name. You turn your body towards the ginger, your hand on Tyson’s bicep not moving as he says that you two should find an Uber soon.

“Okay, yeah, sure. I’ll be out in a sec, Tyson was just telling me a story,” you let him know. JT knits his eyebrows at the comment but walks outside with a few of the other guys all heading home.

“How are you getting home?” You ask Tyson once you’re face to face with him again.

“Cale and I are gonna Uber back, too,” Tyson answers, his tongue swiping over his lips slowly. Your eyes watch his movement as time seems to slow down as the two of you keep your eyes focused on the others. His eyes are squintier than normal from the alcohol and you’re yours match his in that regard. You’re pretty sure he’s about to kiss you and for once, you’re actually going to let that person kiss you.

Tyson’s eyes flick behind you momentarily before you see his body semi-deflate. He steps away, your hand falling off his bicep for the first time in at least an hour as he picks up his blazer that’s draped over the stool next to him and nods towards the door.

“I think JT’s looking for you.”

Sure enough when you turn around, JT is in the doorway waving his phone in the air and pointing at it, silently telling you that the Uber is almost here. Your shoulders fall as the moment you were sure was about to happen is ruined. Tyson walks you out of the bar, into the brisk start of Spring air. You’re too busy thinking about how you most definitely would’ve let Tyson kiss you and next thing you know, your foot is slipping on the ice and you’re yelping in surprise.

Tyson catches your waist before you can even hit the cold pavement, and again, you’ve found yourself in a compromising position as Tyson’s face is mere inches from yours. You blink away the embarrassment as JT’s comment about your almost accident goes unnoticed by the both of you. You regather your stance, muttering a quiet thank you to the brunette before hugging him and waving goodbye with a soft smile.

“Dude,” Cale chastises, “You like her don’t you?”

The comment made by his building-mate has him stuttering over his words, trying to figure out an answer that’s not a straight up lie. Cale takes that as his answer, though, rolling his eyes with a heavy sigh as the two find their Uber.

“Does JT know?”

“No, because nothing’s going to happen,” Tyson answers curtly as he slumps his shoulders in his seat. “JT told me I couldn't try anything and I’m going to try and respect that. Besides, she doesn’t date so it’s not like I have a real shot or anything.”

“I don’t know, man. She seemed to jump out of her seat and end our conversation when she saw you talking to that girl.”

Cale’s comment silences the two of them for the remainder of the ride back to their building. Tyson hadn’t really paid mind to the fact that the second that girl left, you had appeared and stayed by his side for the remainder of the night. He brushes it off, blaming his inebriated mind for the overthinking before asking Cale how they’ll get his car in the morning.

Tyson wakes up to his phone dinging with a string of texts from you, a smile on his face when sees your name across his screen.

y/n: not sure what you did to me last night but this is the most hungover ive been in forever y/n: thank god i dont have work y/n: jt is still sleeping so im thinking of ditching him to go get breakfast y/n: you in? Tyson: im down Tyson: do you think we could swing by to get my car from the bar too? was gonna have cale drive me but if you can that’d be great

Getting ready for breakfast feels all too real as you do your hair and pick out an outfit before finally brushing your teeth. You tap your fingers an obnoxious amount of times against your steering wheel as you drive to Tyson’s apartment, your lip stuck between your teeth as you softly sing along to the songs flowing through your speakers.

Sitting across from him in the diner feels a little bit suffocating, the events of last night replaying in your mind. The path your eyes follow tends to keep going to his lips before you realize what you’re doing and snapping them right back up to his eyes or to the coffee in your hand. Those lips you sure you were close to kissing last night. He orders some obnoxiously healthy omelette bowl with enough eggs and potatoes on it to feed a house of four, while you get classic french toast.

You don’t miss that opportunity to chirp him, the weight finally off your shoulders as you lighten the mood. Tyson never really caught onto your weirdness, thinking it was some side effect of your hangover. 

“Is french toast your favorite food or something?” Tyson asks, mouth a little full as he finishes chewing. You knit your eyebrows in confusion, partly because yes, it is your favorite breakfast food, but why would he think that if he’s only ever seen you eat it right now in this very moment? He sees your confusion, answering your question before you can even ask it.

“You got french toast that one time we went out with JT and Sydney.”

“Oh, it is, actually,” it dawns on you then, even though that morning was over a month ago at this point. It’s sweet that he remembers that, your neck warming at his comment.

“It’s not a big deal,” Tyson shrugs, shoving another forkful of egg into his mouth. And shit, did you actually say that out loud to him? That misstep has your neck heating up even further as you take a large swig of your coffee, mainly so the large mug blocks your face from him.

“Besides,” Tyson starts with a heavy laugh. “You just about inhaled that from what I remember, so it has to be your favorite.”

You drop your jaw in shock from his very true accusation, a slight laugh coming out, “You’re a dick.”

“Hey, at least I’m a dick that paid for your meal,” Tyson acknowledges in a lighthearted tone. You smile at him at that, him sending you one right back. “And before you say you can pay for this one, this is that meal I promised you a while back when we made brownies.”

It dawns on you then, was this a date? Did you accidentally on purpose ask Tyson out on a date? Tyson can sense the wheels turning in your head and drops that topic, instead telling you all about this new artist he’s found on Spotify.

That day’s a turning point for your relationship with Tyson. You end up following him back to his place then, a strange sense of deja vu coming through. The rest of the day is spent shaking your respected hangovers on his couch, your feet perched on his lap, his body naturally leaning towards yours.

Your head’s full of what ifs as you drive the short way back to your apartment, thoughts surrounding the feelings you’ve been ignoring when it comes to why Tyson looks at you the way he does or why he’s always sending you Tik Tok’s about your newfound inside jokes. Your friendship with him is easy, he’s an easy guy to catch feelings for and an even easier guy to fully allow yourself to do that with.

The thought of your friendship with JT clouds your thoughts, though. Unsure of what you should even do considering how quickly he shot you down when all you said was that his friend was cute. You don’t think much of it, knowing that the feelings that are starting to show need to be reciprocated for you to even face that next set of problems.

Soon you’re catching yourself focusing on the number 17 jersey skating around the ice instead of 37 when you have the time to watch their games. Tyson’s eyes are the ones you’re always finding in a room and he’s the one always refilling your drink without a thought. He’s the one you text after a particularly rough day, and he does the same when the Avs snap their eight game winning record. He’s slowly taking that spot as your best friend over from his teammate, a spot you’re sure is slowly turning into more.

It’s another one of those nights where he’s the one you're constantly looking for. This time back at Andre’s apartment with the guys and few significant others as you celebrate yet another Avalanche playoff berth.

You’re drinking far less than the crowd surrounding you, fully buzzed on the atmosphere that is clinching the number one seed in the division with still so much time left in the season. Unlike the group of people that have the day off the next day, you have work, but the thought of missing this night for your two best friend’s wasn’t an option when Tyson texted you as soon as he made it to the locker room after the game was won. Tyson’s hand seems to never be empty, but you soon learn he’s been nursing the same beer since he got to Andre’s. There’s a heavy feeling of contentment washing over him as he celebrates his fourth straight playoff appearance, alongside setting a Central Division record for the fastest team to clinch.

The air between you two has that same fuzzy feeling it’s had for a few weeks now, ever since you had gone out to breakfast with him hungover. The high from the win still filling his veins, that same high radiating towards you as you continually find your way back to his side throughout the night.

Tyson catches you slipping out the door as the sun is just about finished setting and follows you a moment later. You’re leaning against the railing with your arms folded atop of it. It’s the easiest thing in the world for Tyson to step in behind you and place his hands on either side of yours, bracketing you against the cool metal. 

The wind blows through your hair, causing you to push some strands back behind your ears as you breathe heavily with Tyson’s new presence.

“You doing alright out here?”’ Tyson asks, one of his laying to rest on top of yours, you fingers interlocking with his.

“Yeah, just wanted to take advantage of Andre’s view,” you respond. Andre’s place had everything, the view of downtown Denver, the suburbs stretching outside of the skyscrapers, but he also had the best view of the mountains you had seen from a complex downtown.

The silence continues between the two of you, the sound of the Denver traffic beneath you filling it out. Tyson’s chest moves behind you with a heavy breath before breaking that silence,

“I talked to my mom this morning.”

“Yeah? How is she?”

“She’s good, but, uh, I called her to tell her about this girl,” he trails off, his chest inflating behind you again as the nerves start to tighten in his stomach. You remain silent, there’s an unspoken understanding that this is something he’s been wanting to get off his chest, something that you too feel the weight of.

“I wanted to tell her about this girl and ask her for advice because it’s complicated since she’s best friends with my best friend who’s also my teammate and I didn’t know if I should put my feelings aside for the sake of my friendship or if I shouldn’t let my friend telling me I couldn’t ask her out stand in the way of my feelings for her.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, the sudden knowledge of the weight his words have. His grip around you had tightened as he spoke, causing you to turn around in his arms slower than you would’ve liked to as your eyes find his. His hands move from the railing to rest on your hips, his grip a little tight yet still soft. Your fingers toy with the hem of his cotton t-shirt, one that accentuates his arms more than you’d like to admit.

You’re not naive, you know that this is that tipping point in your friendship that you’ve been avoiding, yet at the same time anxiously waiting for. He’s right there in front of you, all wide eyed with that playful little glimmer in his eyes and that smile that’s always plastered on his face when he’s with you. It’s the confidence in his smile as he speaks that contradicts the doubt in his eyes and the understanding he has where he knows he needs to take this all slow. He’s not just trying to win you over or get you to bed, he’s trying to show you that he’s what you deserve, that the feelings brewing inside your stomach are two sided.

All of those things are conveyed in the little things and how he hasn’t made any unwarranted moves on you and how he’s always reading the situation before trying anything.

It makes you truly let the feelings you have bubble to the surface as you open your mouth to finally respond, “I don’t think you should ignore your feelings.”

It comes out as a whisper, one where the breaths of air hit Tyson in the chin from how close you two are standing. Nothing else needs to be said, your heart racing in your chest at that first admittance of feelings. Tyson searches your eyes for any sense of doubt, making sure he’s interpreting your words correctly. His hand moves to the junction of your neck, his thumb brushing against the hollow of your cheek. Your hands trail up his sides, brushing the stray curl that’s fallen onto his forehead back in place. He leans into your touch, his nose softly brushing against yours as you close your eyes. His breath fans over your mouth and the hair on his upper lip tickles you before his lips are landing on yours. It’s slow and soft and full of fire as you kiss him back.

You pull apart breathless a few moments later, a smile on your face as you bite your lip. His smile is wider than yours, a sense of smugness behind it. His lips find their way to your forehead, placing a soft, lingering kiss there as he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you tightly to him. A few more heavy breaths are shared before his fingers trail back to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip before pulling you in for another kiss.

His touches are welcome and the chill you felt earlier is gone with his presence, your stomach tightening in a million knots at the man standing before you. Everything he feels is portrayed in his soft eyes and those several moments over the past couple of months where it was just the two of you, getting to know one another much more than you thought you ever would with one of JT’s teammates. The space he gave you as he let you explain your fascination with living the life you did, one with no obsession with social media or what other people thought and one where you carefully curated the people you choose to surround yourself with.

Tyson had slowly worked his way into your heart, one that now had his name written all over it. You smile at the thought, still lost in chocolatey, brown eyes and the way he’s looking at you like the gorgeous view of the Smoky Mountains isn’t right behind you.

“We should go back inside,” you say, breaking the little bubble the two of you had just created. Tyson understands, knowing where the two of you were, knowing who’s just on the other side of the door. Neither of you make any moves to go back inside, and you bask in the cool weather, enjoying the other’s warmth before finally opening the door to the rowdiness that is a bunch of professional hockey players.

JT beckons for you when he sees you come back inside, too drunk to ask where you’ve been for the past fifteen minutes. He’s dragging you to the kitchen, begging you with his eyes to make the room a round of drinks. Tyson smiles at you from a few feet away, silently telling you he’ll find you eventually. He does, making his way to you when everyone’s drink needs are met, his presence causing your stomach to tighten even if he is standing a few feet away from you. 

Both of you lay off the drinks for the rest of the night, already tipsy enough from your drinks earlier and in a silent agreement that there’s more to talk about between the two of you once the crowd thins and everyone's on their way home. JT disappears into thin air it seems like until he’s practically yelling that he’s called an Uber for you two.

“I think I’m actually gonna stay for a little longer,” you answer, eyes drifting over to where Tyson is talking with Cale and Andre. He sees you glance over at him, sending a smile right back your way causing you to blush before telling JT he’s fine to head home and that you’ll text him when you get home.

The room starts to clear out after that, Andre’s front door opening and closing every few minutes as Uber’s are called and before you know it you’re in the back of a Kia Sorento, laughing at the lie Tyson told Cale that led to him getting an Uber by himself and your hands tightly intertwined on your lap.

You find out a few months later that he didn’t lie, he just told him that he had finally gotten the nerve to kiss you.

The elevator ride up to his apartment is full of giggles, those giggles only continuing as he fumbles through unlocking his front door. He tells you to stop making fun of him under his breath, a blush spreading from the tips of his ears to his nose.

He’s pulling you inside once the door is unlocked, causing you to lose your balance from the pull. Your laughs quiet down as he stares down at you, that smile you're familiar with nowhere to be found as he licks his lips. He’s pulling you in with those big, brown eyes of his and then you’re kissing him wildly, barely a few feet into his home.

“We should talk about this,” you mutter against his lips, not fully wanting to break away from him. He’s connecting your lips before you can continue, too addicted to the feeling of finally having his lips on yours.

“What is there to talk about?”

“Us, what this is,” you respond between kisses.

Tyson pulls away this time, resting his forehead against yours. He knows the logistics of all of this needs to be worked out, but right now he doesn’t want to think about how he’s making out with JT’s neighbor or his inevitable murder if JT finds out before one of you can tell him.

“Let’s worry about the consequences tomorrow, because right now I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he reasons, dipping his head down to place his lips right below your jaw. “And if the way you’re kissing me is any sign, then I’d say we’re on the same page about how we feel.”

You moan as Tyson’s teeth nip at the skin, his tongue poking past his lips out onto your neck and goosebumps are popping up all along your skin.

You give into him then, too intoxicated in his warmth and the taste of Bud Light on his mouth. It’s a conversation for you in the morning when you’re both nursing your hangovers over a cup of coffee. Your lips move along his hungrily, his hands gripping your face before sliding down your sides and squeezing your ass through your jeans. You tug your fingers through the long curls behind his ears, him pushing you against the nearest wall with a thud and a rattle of a picture frame.

Your lips move along his softly, the passion and fire laced in it enough to cause a wave of electricity through your veins and down to in between your thighs. He’s towering over you with his big personality and his wide shoulders and you feel like you need to get impossibly closer to him as you pull him in by the fabric of his t-shirt. His hands fall to the wall on either side of your head.

“God, I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” Tyson huffs out, causing a quick chuckle to run through your body. It’s quick because as soon as the words are out of Tyson’s mouth, his lips are already back on yours.

“You’re gonna have to stop kissing me if you want to fuck me,” you mutter out, a sly smirk on your lips as you watch Tyson’s eyes grow darker at the insuination. The hands that were bracketing you against the wall slide down to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip again before pushing past your lips. You keep your eyes on his as you suck on the digit, your tongue swirling around it. His resolve slips away from you for a moment, before his other hand drags down your side until his fingers push under your top, the warm fingers ghosting over the skin of your ribs.

His breath is heavy against you, the growing bulge causing his jeans to tighten around him. You’re feeling bold then, as you feel him against your stomach with his thumb still in your mouth and his hand tight around your jaw. He’s frozen in front of you as he watches your eyes, that stupid smirk finally wiped off his face as your hands move under his shirt, your nails scraping against the tight muscles. You hold back both a comment about his abs and a moan at the feeling, all the hard work he’s put into his body clearly paying off as you push his shirt up his chest and over his head.

Your nails drag back down his chest and torso before looping in the waistband of the boxers peeking out from his jeans. His thumb falls from your mouth, the wet digit leaving a trail of your saliva on your chin as you work on pulling his jeans down. His head tips back with a low groan as his member springs free and you sink down to your knees, his hand finding purchase on the back of your head while the other is used to brace himself against the wall.

Tyson sucks in a breath as your hand reaches out to grip the base of his cock, tugging softly a few times as you lick the tip. His mouth waters at the sight of your lips wrapping around the head, your eyes looking right back up at him. You hum around him as you swallow him down, the vibrations causing a groan to escape from Tyson’s mouth. He feels euphoric, even if you haven’t had your mouth on him for more than 60 seconds. His hips involuntarily thrust forward at the wet feeling your mouth gives as you hollow your cheeks around him. 

Tyson continued to moan above you as you moved your mouth along him, both of your hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. Tyson’s hand is heavy on the back of your head, not using it to push you deeper onto him, but to ground him as he starts to see stars embarrassingly fast in his eyes.

He pulls you off him then, pulling you up to your feet to stand in front of him once again. There’s a dribble of saliva mixed with his pre-cum on your chin and he wipes it away with his thumb before pulling you in for another harsh kiss. He pushes the two of them to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss as he sheds your shirt and pushes you down onto his bed. You giggle again, the hunger in his eyes all too real as he crawls over your body until he’s hovering over you.

“You’re so fucking beautfiul,” he whispers into your ear, causing shivers to shoot down your body. He runs his hands along your bare sides up to your breasts as he kisses down your neck. His hands brush along your lace covered nipples, making you sharply inhale a breath and arch your back against him. He pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, his lips still nipping at the skin on your collarbone. He looks down at you again, a sensual look in his eyes that you mirror. His lips attach to one of your nipples, the other being tended to by his fingers as twists and pulls the bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Your hands find purchase in the curls atop his head, pulling at the strands as he breathes a huff of cool air onto your npple before switching to the other one. He makes his way down your body painfully slow, a trail of kisses being left down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. He tugs them off just as quickly as he stripped you from your shirt, his eyes locking on the sage green thong you’re wearing and the very obvious wet patch between your legs. He’s impatient from the brief blowjob you gave him and the fact that he’s been imaging this exact moment for far too long now. His fingers dip into the strap of your underwear, his eyes finding yours and asking if this is okay. You respond with a resounding yes as he pulls the underwear off of you.

His lips leave kisses along your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders as his mouth finally makes his way to your center. His beard is rough against the skin of your thighs, a sensation only causing you to whine as he breathes over your clit.

“Tyson,” you whine, causing him to smirk before pressing his tongue to your entrance. The cool, wetness of his tongue has you catching your breath and fisting the sheets underneath you. Tyson moaned against you at the taste as he licked over you a few more times. His lips wrap around your clit, this time causing a full, throaty moan to release from your mouth. One of your hands found its way to his head, holding him impossibly closer to you, the other finding his hand as he interlocks your fingers together.

His tongue dives into your opening, fucking into you as his other arm wraps around your thigh so he can rub his thumb at your clit. His tongue licked around you entrance, alternating between that and fucking into you. His thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing circles hoping to get you to that tipping point, the one you felt nearing with every pass of his tongue over you. Your back arched off the bed, your hips pushing further into Tyson’s face as you felt your high near. Tyson continued at the same pace, pushing you over the edge as you moaned out his name.

He continued to lick softly at you, his thumb slowing down on your clit as he lifted his head up to kiss at your collarbone. The kisses he leaves along your inner thighs gives you time to catch your breathing, your chest still heaving from your orgasm. It’s short lived as his thumb on your clit slides down to your entrance, spreading your wetness around before pushing a finger into you. 

His lips make their way back to your clit with the same smirk he had on his face a few minutes ago, wrapping his lips around the bud as he moves he added another finger. You clench down him at the feeling, moans and heavy breaths of air escaping your mouth as Tyson worked his fingers against your g-spot and his mouth worked over your clit. Your hand squeezes his, the pressure becoming too much so soon after your first orgasm. It doesn’t take long for you to groan out his name again as you clench down on his fingers, your second orgasm rushing through you.

He stays down there a moment longer, but you pull him up by his hair, just wanting his lips on yours and his body hovering over you. His beard is wet from both his spit and your juices, and it has you licking your lips and craning your neck upwards. You pull him in with both of your hands, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on him.

The kiss is heavy, his hands running along your body trying to memorize every dip and curve, the heavy weight of his member on your hip. His curls tickled your forehead, the kiss turning soft as he splayed a hand on your cheek to pull you in tighter. The head of his dick brushed over your mound, a shiver running through you at the feelings, your hips bucking up towards his with a small whine.

You reach your hand down between your bodies to tug on him softly, a whine leaving Tyson’s lips, one that’s swallowed by your kisses. It’s unspoken between the two of you as pulls away from you, only to push your hand away from him and give himself a few tugs as he settles heavily between your thighs.

You share a look, one that’s gleeful and full of smiles as he licks his lips and slowly pushes into you. You moan and whimper at the feeling of him inside of you, your hands clawing at his shoulder blades to pull his body flush against your own.

“You good?” He asks, referring to if you’re ready for him to start moving.

“Yeah,” you whine, looking into his eyes smiling, “I’m good.”

There’s a pause as you answer, both of you understanding the double-meaning behind your answer. It’s more than just telling him you feel good physically, but that you feel more than that when he’s with you.

He leans in to kiss you again, starting a slow pace as he thrusts into you. He moaned out at how tight you were, how well you were taking him as he kissed you. He picked up his pace, thrusting into you harder and faster, with more purpose as he rested on his elbows above you, looking into your eyes. You always got lost in those eyes of his, as he hit your g-spot you tilted your head back, your eyes fluttering closed. They weren’t closed for long as Tyson grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him once again.

“I wanna look at you,” he muttered as he leaned back down to kiss you. Your moans filled the room as the layer of sweat started to thicken on your bodies, his chest rubbing against yours. He lifted your thigh and pushed it against your chest, the new angle causing the knots to tighten in your stomach as you felt you high nearing. Your lips found their way to his neck and down to the dips of his collarbone. Biting down into the flesh as you moan out again, Tyson’s pace quickening as he feels you clenching around him.

“I’m so close,” you moan out, Tyson hitting you deeply. He could feel himself getting close too, his hips starting to stutter as he moved inside of you. Your breasts bouncing as he pounds into you, your eyes screwing shut as your orgasm starts to wash over you. Tyson swallows your moans as he kisses you through your third orgasm.

His breaths are heavy as his orgasm comes soon after yours, spilling into you as he slows his pace down and gently lowers his body weight onto yours. You two stay like that for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in that post-sex afterglow. He removes himself once you’ve both settled, a whimper leaving your mouth at the newfound emptiness. He disappears to his bathroom, coming right back with a washcloth as he cleans you up. You thank him as he runs the cool, wet cloth over the insides of your thighs, pulling him back for another quick kiss before he disappears into the bathroom once more.

When he gets back, he lays down next to you, pulling your body snug against his. His chest is warm and still a little sticky from the sweat. Your fingers draw aimless patterns along his bare chest, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your forehead and you feel the upturn of his lips when he pulls away. You smile up at him then, leaning up and puckering your lips, asking for a kiss. He obliges with a soft hum and rubs your arm gently before you’re falling asleep against him, a few drops of drool falling onto his chest.

The morning rolls around too quickly for your liking, the curls on Tyson’s head ticking the back of your neck. Neither of you are in a rush to move as he smiles against the bare skin of your back, a few kisses being placed there as you hum and hold his arms tighter to your torso. He’s up from bed moments later, a sweet kiss lingering on your lips as you watch his naked form emerge from bed and pull on a pair of sweats. Your eyes watch over the ripples of muscles between his shoulder blades, down his back and over his ass before he’s running around his apartment in search of your thong.

He remerges with it draped over his finger, a smirk on his lips before he flings it at you, causing a giggle to erupt from your stomach. You pull them on, a large t-shirt being tossed your way to drape over your shoulders. You follow him out to his kitchen then, a small pit in your stomach at the realization of the conversation that needs to be had, the small bubble you’re in at its popping point.

You jump onto his island counter, the coolness of the granite sending shivers down your bare legs, his back to you as he starts the coffee pot. He’s just in a pair of sweats, bright red lines on display on his back. You squeeze your legs together as you cross them, the actions of your late night antics running vividly through your mind.

He presses the warm mug into your hands, his now free hand pushing open your legs to step between them. He’s so close then, probably the closest you’ve really been to him with a sober brain. The heat from his torso radiates towards you, warming not only your skin but your insides as well as you smile at him. He’s still got that wide, goofy smile plastered on his face, the one you’ve grown to love and to look forward to seeing.

Tyson’s hands move to rest on the counter on either side of you, the close proximity between your faces causes you to set your mug down and move your hands to his shoulders.

“What’s going through your mind, pretty girl?” The new pet name has you mentally squealing, your chest tightening as your cheeks heat up.

“Just how last night I was so adamant to talk about everything, but now I’m not so sure I want to break our little bubble,” you start, the huff of breath air coming out softly as you avoid his eye contact, even if he is a few inches away from your face.

It’s hard to concentrate on relaying your feelings to him and fully opening up to a man for the first time in a long time with him standing right there in front of you, in all his shirtless glory — the defined lines of his pecs and abs, the veins protruding from his arms, and the few purple bruises you’d left on the dips of his collarbones. It’s always been hard to think straight around him, you realize, with the way his presence gives you a comforting buzz and that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

Tyson’s quiet as he watches over you, he licks his lips in thought, a silent hum of agreement coming out. He’s in the exact same boat, the outcome of this conversation not one he’s too scared of, knowing that the way he feels is reciprocated, but rather what the next step is with the best friend you two share. He’s leaning closer into you, a small smile as he places another soft kiss on your lips. It’s one you get lost in, gentle and blissful as your lips move slowly against his. He pulls away first, something he wasn’t able to do last night, before finally being able to put his thoughts into words.

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page with this. We’re taking a big risk doing this behind JT’s back and I want you to know, no matter what, the risk is worth it with you,” he starts, voice soft and still scratchy from the morning. “And I know you don’t date because you put yourself first and if that’s what you want to do then I’m okay with that, too.”

Your heart melts at the words, your hands cradling his face. Tyson’s always been better with words and feelings than you have over your short friendship with him. The metaphorical door is already wide open in front of you, it’s just a matter of taking that one more small step through it with Tyson, or shutting it and never turning back.

“I don’t date because most people don’t like having independent girls as their girlfriend’s. I put time into myself to be the best person I can be, not only for myself but for others and they don’t like that stuff,” you start to explain, your hands falling from his face to hold both of his hands. “I like you, a lot, Tys, and I want to be with you.”

He smiles wildly at that, the doubt draining from his eyes as he opens his mouth to respond.

You interrupt him though, with a huff of air as you continue speaking, “But JT’s my best friend and I don’t want to hurt him either.”

And Tyson fully understands where you’re coming from, because he’s been struggling with that for the past few months ever since he met you. He thinks back to that conversation on the plane all that time ago and how JT firmly told him to not try anything, but now as he really thinks about it, he’s not sure he meant it because of him and that it was more so because he cared for you and didn’t want to see you get hurt in general.

You can see in his eyes that same wide open door you’re thinking about, the one where you get to explore a relationship with the quirky, optimistic, competitive guy in front of you. The guy that matches your level of confidence as you, the guy that lets you be stubborn and lets you live out that stubbornness because he’s the most patient person you’ve ever met.

The decision’s easy as he stands in front of you, putting the ball in your court, your lip caught between your teeth. He’s waiting for you then, waiting for you to walk through that door or close it and walk out of his apartment. He’s hopeful, knowing that last night wasn’t a fluke and that all the kisses you’ve already shared are real and full of passion and those feelings you’ve been dancing around.

That’s when you give in, wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him into you with that toothy smile of yours as you place your lips on his hungrily. It’s a kiss full of teeth as he smiles against you, his hands coming to cradle your face as you kiss. It’s much more addicting now that you’re sober and you fully agree with Tyson’s comment from last night about how he’s never going to want to stop kissing you.

You decide later that day that there’s no rush in telling JT, instead opting to see how things go between the two of you for a few weeks. Those two weeks are full of plenty of quality time, a coincidental home stand falling during that time meaning you get him to yourself before facing the reality that is how much he travels. You’re sure you can handle everything the new relationship can throw at you, the honeymoon phase lasting long as the two of you skirt around how you’ll tell JT whenever that time comes.

“I need to leave now if I want to leave for the rink and not see JT,” Tyson warns, prying away from your warm body in bed. You whined in response, wanting to have his warmth for just a little while longer. You let him escape from your grasp, only after asking for one too many kisses. You follow him out into your kitchen, watching him as he pulls on his shoes and finds his keys.

“You sure I can’t get you to stay for at least a cup of coffee?” You muse, giving it one more shot to spend time with him before your work week starts. You make your way to where he’s lingering in your entryway, looking extra cozy with his hood over his messy head of curls. You wrap your arms around his middle, slipping your hands under the cotton of his hoodie to feel his skin against yours. 

He leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips, giggling when you follow him as he pulls away, “I really need to get going.”

“Fine,” you hum. “I’ll see you when you get back from Dallas?”

Tyson nods his head with a hum in answer, finally pulling open your front door to get to his car downstairs in the garage without running into JT. But luck isn’t on his side this morning and he gives you one more goodbye hug and kiss in the doorway before shutting the door behind him and coming face to face with a certain redheaded teammate a few feet down.

JT’s eyebrows are knitted as he takes his key out of the lock. His mouth opens a few times in confusion before any words come out. “What was that?”

Tyson doesn’t think he’s ever been at such a loss for words as he is right now. He looks between the door he just shut and his friend a few times, trying to wrap his brain around what this scene looks like. It’s not even 8:30 in the morning on Sunday, and to anyone, this looks like the start of a walk of shame.

“Uh, y/n and I were hanging out and we fell asleep so she let me sleep in her guest room,” Tyson lies. He hopes it’s convincing, his voice didn’t waver but his hands flailed around a little more than normal when he talks and he scratched his beard, something he always does when he’s nervous.

“I’m pretty sure I just saw you kiss her,” JT explains, voice stern as he completely turns to look at Tyson. “And you don’t just kiss people goodbye.”

Tyson stumbles over an explanation for that, no logical reason coming to mind.

“You were just kissing y/n!” JT exclaims, a rise in his voice as he starts to fill in the blanks. Now he’s starting to connect the dots of your tendency to bail on him on the nights you’d normally hang out and Tyson’s lack of interest in guys’ night or after game celebrations with the team. The giggling he would hear through the wall late at night, the girly squeals, and the few times he remembered hearing the bedpost hit against your shared wall a little too hard for his liking. “You just fucking kissed my best friend after I told you to not get involved with her!”

Tyson moves to close the distance between him and his best friend, but JT takes one back, effectively cancelling it out. Tyson’s opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out the best course of action for this premature conversation. The two of you had just figured everything out in the past few days, telling JT about your newfound relationship hadn’t even come up in conversation yet.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“Barely two weeks,” Tyson stutters out, watching as JT’s face fills with more anger. “Comph, just let me explain,” he tries again, but JT just shakes his head and heads for the doorway for the stairwell instead of the elevator. It’s a huge flight of stairs given that he lives on the 11th floor of the building. He wants to follow his friend, but knows that space is what he needs and instead presses the button for the elevator and gets in, leaving him alone in his thoughts.

When he meets up with him at the rink, JT’s still avoiding him which is hard considering their stalls are only separated by one other in the locker room. Cale hadn’t even made it to the rink yet, so someone wasn’t even there to put up a wall between the two. Gabe takes notice as he walks around the room after taping his ankles, his eyebrows knitting at the fact that Tyson, who’s normally cheery even this early in the morning and bugging JT, is putting on his pads and skates with his mouth shut. 

It’s something Gabe puts in the back of his mind, just thinking that Tyson had a rough night or morning. It’s during morning skate that Gabe, and almost everyone else, notices something is off between the pair. JT doesn’t chirp him like normal when they take face-offs against one another, he’s not by his side in between drills, and JT sticks his stick out a little too far during a one-on-one, sending Tyson to the ice during a drill that no one should be falling during. Bednar thinks nothing of it, just telling Tyson to stay on his two feet. 

Practice eventually ends but the silent treatment between the two continues. JT’s uncharacteristically quiet to everyone that talks to him, something clearly on his mind. Meanwhile Tyson’s nerves are causing him to not shut up as Cale shares a story about his rough commute this morning.

As Tyson and Cale quiet down, Gabe steps in, pointing between the two of them, “What’s up with you two today?”

“Nothing,” Tyson lies quickly, not wanting anyone else to get involved in this. Even if their captain is just trying to help, Tyson’s not sure there’s anything Gabe can say to help. 

JT scoffs, tying his shoes before standing up, “He’s fucking my best friend.” Cale, who was taking him leisurely time with getting dressed suddenly stands up and crosses the room to where Gravy was, avoiding any possible conflict.

Gabe’s eyes pop out of his head as Tyson responds, “we’re not fucking.”

“So the banging into my wall last night wasn’t you?” JT asks in an accusatory tone.

“Well, we’re not like,” Tyson starts, gesturing his hands in front of his body in a way to finish that sentence, soon realizing he doesn’t want to add fuel to fire by saying he was in fact fucking his best friend last night. “It’s not just that, we’re together.”

Gabe, who thought this was probably a misunderstanding of one of Tyson’s pranks or even just JT not winning a stupid bet, is just as shocked as JT was a few hours agao when he saw two of his best friends kissing. The captain isn’t entirely sure of how to navigate this situation, one that hasn’t really happened in any of his locker rooms. He doesn’t have much else to say to the two of them other than to figure it out and that a girl shouldn’t get between two friends that are as close as they are.

With that, Tyson’s trying to apologize to JT, tell him that there’s more to the story but JT wants nothing of it, and is throwing his jacket on and running out the door. Everything in Tyson’s being wants to follow him back to his place and beg for him to hear him out, but instead he’s racing back to your place, ignoring the fact that he still has to pack for their quick road trip.

Tyson all about sprints up the 11 flights of stairs to your door, knocking on your door with urgency until the door swings open. You move to the side as you let him in, clearly seeing how frantic he is with his flushed cheeks and the excessive knocking.

“JT saw me leave this morning,” Tyson lets out, a little out of breath from his run up the stairs. Tyson’s waiting for you to respond but you’re still not getting it. “He saw me kiss you goodbye and then didn’t talk to me all practice then when Landy confronted us he was just like ‘Tyson’s fucking my best friend’ and I tried to explain but-”

“Tys,” you interrupt his rambling, taking a step forward to reach out to him. Your hands grab his in an attempt to ground him, your thumbs rubbing back and forth on the back of his hands. “It’ll be okay.”

“He literally tripped me in practice today!”

“That’s because he can be a petty asshole. He doesn’t hate you, he probably just feels betrayed because he didn't know any of this was going on.” You try to console him, pushing all of your anxieties and paranoia aside to deal with the panicking boy in front of you.

“Let me talk to him, you need to go home and pack for your road trip since I know you haven’t yet.”

“But,”

“I’ll come over right after and update you, I promise.”

WIth that, Tyson kisses you goodbye as you push him to the elevator with a promise that everything is going to be okay before giving yourself a pep talk and bursting into JT’s apartment next to yours.

He spots you before you can greet him and you can see quite a few different feelings crossing over his face.

“Oh, God, are you here to also tell me that you’re not just fucking my best friend, too?” JT scoffs, causing your heart to plummet into your ass. “I really don’t want to listen to any excuses you may have about this.”

“Stop being an asshole for just one second and let me explain,” you reprimand him, already over the fact that your so-called best friend won’t even hear you out. “How is this any different from the countless times you tried to set me up with your friends? Is this not the same thing?”

It’s a genuine question that shuts up JT, because really, it’s not much different in your eyes. For over a year now, JT’s been showing you pictures of buddies he has from back home or from college or even friends of friends that he’d think would suit you. You had always turned him down because to you, dating wasn’t something you wanted other people to really interfere with, even if some of his friends were young, successful, bachelor types.

“Because it’s Tyson,” JT answers simply with a shrug of his shoulders. You look at him, hands clenching at your sides with the vague and uninterested tone. He’s barely even looking at you as he tidies up his kitchen, something he always did when trying to fill silence.

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously. “You’ve told me a million times he’s one of the best people you’ve ever met.” You bite your tongue from adding a comment about how he is one of the best people you’ve also met.

“The other guys weren’t professional athletes, it’s pretty simple from how I see it.”

“But you could set me up with your friends from Chicago and New York and Michigan but I find one of your friends here in Denver then it’s off limits? Because he plays a sport for a living? If that’s the case then I shouldn’t be friends with you either.” It’s a low blow, you know that, but it finally catches his attention as he drops the cloth he’s wiping the counter with. His eyes finally connect with yours and it’s then he finally notices how hurt you are by the lack of emotion in both his words and his body language. There are tears in your eyes as you look up at the ceiling to try and even your breathing.

“It's an honor for anyone to have a place in my life JT and that includes you,” you continue. “Tyson understands that. He understands that I'm my own person before anything else but he’s still there when I'm stubborn. I've been single for so long and I truly know what I want, what I deserve to feel and I get that with him.”

You often don’t get this deep with the red head, but his lack of wanting to understand you has you emotional as you think of all the benefits of being with Tyson. The few months of being his friend were a perfect build up to the past few weeks of it being more, of sharing a life with someone else. 

“You know him better than most people and if you can honestly tell me he’s no good for me right now then I’ll end it,” you suggest, your heart beating fast as you wait for an answer. JT has come to be one of your best friends in your life, even if he is just your neighbor, and at this moment it’s hard to think of putting a guy between you. Even if that guy is the first guy you’ve really felt this way towards.

“I’m not gonna tell you that,” JT admits with a heavy sigh. He makes his way across the room to you before continuing. “He’s my best friend, too, and if there’s anyone that knows everything about both of you, it’s me. I guess I just felt like you were hiding a secret from me and we don’t do that, ya know? I just wish you could’ve told me.”

You laugh snidely at that, “Do you not remember like two months ago when I told you I thought Tyson was cute and you shot that down before I was even done talking?”

The wheels turn and the light bulb goes off in JT’s brain as he remembers that conversation from a while back, “I won’t confirm nor deny that I said that.”

The both of you laugh lightheartedly at that, pulling him in for a much needed hug, both of you apologizing to the other. The weight on your shoulders is liften as he pulls away, thankful for the fact that you have such an understanding person for a best friend.

“You want to watch an episode of Psych? I think we can fit one in before I have to leave.”

You contemplate it, knowing that a few miles away Tyson is in his apartment panicking as he waits for some sort of update from you. You know you need to tell him how your conversation just went, but something inside you is telling you that JT needs you to spend time with him to normalize everything.

“Sure,” you smile, walking over to his couch and laying on it long ways, forcing JT to sit by himself in his chair. You pull out your phone to text Tyson, smiling as you type out an explanation.

y/n: just finished talking to jt y/n: everything’s good but i think i need to just hang out with him to make him feel better about everything tyson: you sure? y/n: yes, ill call you when he leaves for the airport💚

Everything gets sorted out when you call Tyson an hour later, calming his nerves as you give him a detailed play-by-play of everything that was said between you and JT. The comfortable silence before you hang up is almost filled with him telling you he loves you, but he knows he needs to talk to JT first and needs to tell you in person, and not over the phone as he boards a flight.

The flight was filled with awkward air as most of the guys saw what happened with Tyson and JT in the locker room when practice ended that morning, and even if they weren’t there for that, they felt the tension between them. It’s not until a few hours later when Tyson’s doing his hair before the game when he hears a knock on his hotel door.

He swings the door open to see JT, his hands shoved in his short pockets as he stares right back at Tyson.

“Can we talk?”

“Uh, yeah,” he responds nervously, stepping out of the way to let his friend through the door. The two of them awkwardly stand a few feet away, that meme about two straight guys sitting six feet away in a hot tub because they’re not gay going through Tyson’s brain.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize about everything earlier. I’ll admit, I overreacted a bit and I shouldn’t have tripped you in practice. It was just a lot to take in, especially because I didn’t really know that you two were that close. And I feel like a bad friend now for not knowing that.”

JT’s apology is way more than what Tyson thought he would get from his friend. He knew yours and his conversation went well, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t scared JT was going to punch him or yell at him or literally anything that wasn’t an amicable conversation between two adults.

“It’s fine, man. It’s on us for keeping you in the dark on this one and I’m sorry for that. I think we barely knew what was going on until it was all happening,” Tyson starts to explain. He’s trying not to look at his feet, knowing that JT needs to see the feelings in his face, those feelings that are very much real to him.

“And it’s real for you? It’s not a game? Because I swear to God, Tyson.” JT darts, voice stern.

“God, no, this isn’t a game to me JT,” Tyson answers quickly, head shaking in disgust at the thought. “I’m not just trying to bag her and call it some accomplishment or whatever you think this is. If that was the case I wouldn’t even be having this conversation with you and you’d already hate me,” he shudders at those words, unable to ever think he could do any wrong to you. “You told me a while ago that it’s no bullshit with her and I know that because it isn’t for me either.”

JT takes a seat on the bed in the room as his friend speaks, taking it all in. It’s a lot for him to take in, but Tyson really is one of the best people he’s ever met and he has little to no doubt that he’s telling the truth about how he feels. If the tears brimming your eyes earlier in the day said anything, you feel the exact same way. The room is silent once Tyson is done talking, his nerves causing him to be quiet for once as JT figures out his next move.

“I hear one bad bad thing from y/n, then it’s over,” JT warns, Tyson nodding his head along in agreement. “And if the guys start talking about your sex life I will be cutting your dick off.”

“Got it.”

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, how’d you get her to go for you? I’ve been trying to get her a guy for forever.”

“Easy, have you seen my charming smile?” Tyson jokes with that crooked smirk of his, happy to see that JT is already moving on from that heavy stuff and onto best friend stuff. JT rolls his eyes heavily at the joke, a light ‘shut up’ coming out as he laughs.

Tyson explains everything then, the same wide smile on his face he had when he scored his first hat trick. He tells JT about how he wined and dined you on more than one occasion, how he learned those little, obscure things about you that you caught you off guard whenever he remembered them, and most importantly, just spent uninterrupted time with you, getting to know the ins and outs of your life. To Tyson, getting you to open up to him was difficult yet still a tranquil thing to do. The latter severely outweighed the former, as the sense of serenity he felt with you would always overpower any of those harder moments.

The team returns to Denver two days later, a quick road trip to Dallas and St Louis in the books with the regular season ending within the week. You can see that it’s that time of the year on both JT and Tyson’s face, their eyes a little more sunken in with the back half push, even if they’ve already clinched the playoffs. There’s only a few more games left to round out March and the beginning of April, the guys’ still waiting on their round one opponent.

Tyson heads straight for your place when the plane touches down late Wednesday night. You’d talked to him every day for the past few days, but not being able to see him much after JT finding out caused a lot of anxiety for the both of you. The problem may be solved with that, but seeing the other would just give you that little extra push that this was the right thing to do.

Tyson enters your apartment quietly, dropping his backpack and suit jacket down onto the nearby couch as he navigates his way through your apartment in the dark. The light of your string lights in your bedroom illuminates the hallway, soft sounds coming from your phone as Tyson walks in on you laying on your side.

“Hey,” he gently greets with a smile, pausing in the doorway to admire you. You set your phone down, turning around to face the man leaning against the door frame.

You smile just as wide as he does, responding with just as gentle of a ‘hey’. That anxiety you felt over the course of the last few days instantly dissolving at the sight of the man in your doorway.

“Why’re you standing all the way over there?” You ask with a pout.

“I can’t just look at you?” Tyson laughs, making his way over to you slowly. He joins you in bed, crawling over you like he’s still not dressed in one of his expensive custom suits.

“Not when I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you complain with a giggle, the same pout still glued to your face. He places a quick kiss on your lips in response, giving into your silent ask while also erasing that puppy dog look from your face. You’d only officially been with Tyson a few weeks now, the butterflies still heavily present in your stomach everytime your lips meet his.

“Do you not have clothes to change into?” You ask, referring to the crisp white button down he’s still wearing. He nods his head no against yours,

“Only what’s dirty from the roadie. Besides, I plan on being naked here pretty soon,” he smirks playfully. The comment has you shoving him off you with a roll of your eyes, only causing him to laugh loudly at your reaction. You know he’s partly kidding, using that as an excuse to get up from bed to go to the bathroom.

When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s finally shed his clothes and is under your covers. He opens his arms for you to snuggle into him. You do, resting your head on his bicep as he wraps both of his arms back around you.

“I missed you,” you let out. “Because I didn’t know what was gonna happen when you got back with everything going on with JT.”

“I missed you, too, but I’ve always missed you when we left for road trips,” he responds, letting you in on a little secret that clues you in once again to how real this is and how long it’s truly been going on for. “He’s fine with everything, he just told me we can’t act too much like a couple around him.”

You chuckle at that because of course that was the part JT focused on when they talked. As you look up at him, your heart is full and your head still has that same fuzzy feeling it always has when you’re around him. With him you’ve never really felt lonely, something you often felt even when you were around people before him. Those love songs you once heard on the radio that annoyed you no longer do, and instead you welcome them when they play spontaneously in the car or at the bar and parties or even at Avalanche games. 

The thoughts swimming around in your head have you swinging your leg over him, straddling his hips with his hands on your waist and yours on his ribs. That doe-eyed smile he has is focused on you, a grin spreading over your face at the way everything’s worked out with him. Your heart flutters as he gently squeezes your side, a small squeak coming out. He leans up on his elbows then, admiring the view he has of you. He slowly yet full-heartedly fell for you over the time he’s known you and you can see it in the way his gaze turns soft and as the quirkiness drops from his expression.

You’ve slowly fallen in love with the man underneath you, too, and you lean down to kiss him one more time. It’s slow like they always seem to be with him in scenarios like this, where it’s just the two of you and the sounds of your breathing.

The playoffs fly by quickly with the pace they’re winning at, a WAG jacket wrapped tightly around your shoulders to every game you make it to. A new one is shoved into your hands at the start of the Stanley Cup playoffs, Mel telling you it’s a special occasion that calls for a new jacket, even if it is just for a series and even though you’ve just barely broken in your first one.

You go into that offseason with your newly crowned Stanley Cup Champion of a boyfriend, flying out to Chicago over the summer for JT’s day with the cup and spending a whole week in St. Albert when its Tyson’s turn with it.

And that picture frame you never found a picture for that’s hanging up on your wall by your TV? It’s been occupied now with a photo of you sandwiched between JT and Tyson on the ice after Game 6 against the Tampa Bay Lightning, the Cup on the ice in front of the three of you, faces full of glee with confetti falling around you.

Plus One

The pitter patter of small feet running along the hardwood floors of the hallway, followed by a squeal of ‘daddy’ has you setting your glass down and following after her. Your daughter’s giggle is heard through the house, the familiar sound of your husband dropping his bags by the front door following soon after.

“What’re you still doing up, baby girl?” Tyson chastises the four year old as you round the corner to find the two of them still by the door, your daughter in Tyson’s arms as he gives her a kiss.

“Sage said she wouldn’t go to bed until daddy came home for story time,” you answer for Sage. She only giggles in response.

“How about you go get in bed and mommy and daddy will come tell you a story in a minute?” Tyson asks, playing with her little fingers.

“Okay daddy!” She agrees instantly, running all the way up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. The brown curls she got from Tyson bounce as she runs, your heart warming at the heavy resemblance she has to her father.

“How are you doing, baby?” Tyson hums as you give him the usual welcome home kiss, his hand coming to rest on your protruding stomach.

“Good, the back pain is much more manageable now, but I’m still going to the bathroom every hour it seems like,” you shrug as you answer. He’d been on the longest road trip of the season so far, one that means the season is almost over. You’d tried extremely hard this time around to get pregnant at the right time so your next child would arrive during the offseason and not in the middle of the conference finals like your first did a few years ago.

“Soon enough we’ll have her running and occupying all of Sage’s free time,” Tyson muses, the two of you making your way to your bedroom so he could change into comfier clothes. You smile at the thought of Sage finally having a little sister to play with and hopefully become best friends with.

When you don’t get to Sage’s room fast enough, she’s racing into yours and Tyson’s room and plopping down onto your spacious bed. You join her, Tyson following, knowing that she’d much rather be sandwiched between the two of you than in her tiny bed in her own room. She leans into her dad’s side, something she’s always done, but you don’t mind — you love seeing them get so close.

“Did you bring a book, sweetie?” You ask her, taming some of her curls.

“No, tell me the story of how you met daddy again,” she proposes, causing you and Tyson to share a look. It’s her favorite story, one she asks you to relay to her at least once a week, and the one she asks for the most when Tyson’s been gone.

The two of you tell the story to her anyway, taking turns as you tell her how upset Uncle JT was about the two of you dating, all the way to the jokes he made sure to make when he gave a speech at your wedding six years ago now.

[sunnie-scribbles]

i’ll wait | daichi

What do you do when the one you love tells you they need space? How do you cope when they’ve gone? And what do you do if you’re not sure they’ll ever come back?

Pairing: Timeskip!Daichi x female reader

Warnings: Yearning, angst once again 

Wc: 1359

Daichi loved you enough to keep his distance, even though all he wanted to do right then was run over and say hello. 

He watched as you walked out of the corner store across the street with a small cup of coffee in your hand. Your hair was different now, shorter than it used to be. You were no longer sporting that ratty yellow hoodie you used to wear back in high school. You might be a little taller, but he couldn't be sure. 

God, how long has it been since he'd last seen you? 

He was sure it’s been years. 

Daichi could still recall the night you told him you were going to leave, much too vividly. If he closed his eyes, he could see the stars twinkling faintly above your heads and feel the warm June breeze rustle through his hair. He could picture the balcony in your room, with its rusty old railings and the paint chipping off it. And if he tried really hard, he could feel a whisper of your touch, your left hand enveloped in his right. 

Sometimes, even if he didn't try at all, the memory would still come to him. Late at night, before bed. Idle moments in the station while he put on his uniform. On the way home from work. It wasn’t the kind of moment you easily forget.

"All I've ever known is you, Daichi," you'd told him. He thought it was sweet. He pulled you closer by the waist and planted a kiss on your temple. "And you're all I'll ever know," he'd chuckled in reply. 

But you just gave him a look. "I'm serious," you said, looking away from his face and fixing your gaze on the stars instead. "It's not bad," you continued. "But I can't help but wonder if there's more." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean, I love you, Daichi. I've loved you since we were six years old, and you gave me a pebble from the yard outside your building because you thought it looked cool. I loved you all throughout our awkward and embarrassing junior high phases. I loved you through the times I barely got to see you 'cause you were so focused on volleyball in senior high. I loved you then, and I love you now, and I will love you tomorrow," you looked back at him. "And if the greatest thing I'll ever do with my life is love you, then my life wouldn't have been a waste. I would be happy to go on, like this, loving you forever." There were tears in your eyes. 

"I love you too," Daichi answered. But as he leaned in to give you another kiss, you pulled away. “I would be happy,” you whisper. “But I don’t know if I’ll be content.” 

"I mean... Doesn't it terrify you?" You asked him, eyes on the stars once more. "We're barely nineteen." 

Daichi didn't understand. So what if you were kids? Love didn't pick an age. Young as he was, he knew that he loved you for real, knew that he would be happy to spend the rest of his life with you. But Daichi kept silent, waiting for you to continue.

"I need space," you said. There was a tremor in your voice that he had never heard before. You shook your head, a bitter laugh falling from your lips. "I'm not like you. I don't know who I'm supposed to be, or what I'm supposed to do. Daichi, I'm nineteen." 

Daichi couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What’s age got anything to do with it?" he asked, slowly taking your hand in his. "You’re you. You are the best person I know. You are smarter than most people we know, but you never make a show of it. You are forgiving, and patient to a fault— I sometimes want to smack people because they take advantage of that.” Daichi smiled faintly. "You’re a weirdo, though. You dip your nuggets in gravy instead of the sauce, and your hands are always cold even though you wear that yellow sweater all the time. You meow back at cats when they meow at you, and you think nobody notices, but I do. And it doesn't matter, because all those things make you, you. You’re a wonderful sister, and a loving daughter, and the best friend —the best girlfriend— anyone can ever ask for. The stuff of prayers, that's who you are." 

Daichi swallowed thickly. He could feel the tears brimming. If he blinked, or took his eyes off of you, he was sure they would fall. "As for what you're supposed to do, we can figure that out together," he said. "I'll be right here, right next to you, through all of it."

"Man, I love you," you smiled at Daichi, but your eyes conveyed a different emotion. "But that's the thing. I need to figure out who I am outside of us." 

Silence. Daichi takes a breath and leans against the railing. His head was beginning to spin and tears were clouding his vision. He didn’t know what else to say. You mirrored his actions, picking at the peeling paint beneath your fingers. "I just need some space, that's all," you whispered. "Just a few weeks." 

But a few weeks turned into a few months and a few months eventually turned into a year. And then, two years. Three years. Four. You both went to university. Daichi took up a degree in social work, and fell in love with the idea of spending his life serving the community. He’d always known he was going to work in civil service— he’d told you that much, even when you were still in high school. But he developed a deeper passion for it during his university years, and he often found himself wanting to share the things he’d been learning about, with you. 

But Daichi didn’t even know what you majored in. 

It was difficult, especially in the beginning. He would spend weekends passing by places you used to go to together, hoping he’d find you there. Daichi caught himself keeping an eye out for you in the rush hour crowd, in grocery lines, at bus stops, and in cafes. He would meet with Sugawara and Asahi from time to time to catch up, and would always have to fight the urge to ask them if they knew how you were. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to tell you that he loved you, to remind you that he was waiting, and that he’d always be waiting for you. 

But love means being patient. Love means allowing the other person enough time, enough space, to maintain their own inward rhythms. In your case, Daichi wanted to let you have the time and space to discover your own rhythm, to learn and discover things just as he did. And when the time was right, he would find you again. Or you would find him. And your rhythms would no longer be out of tune. Waiting was difficult, but it was all he could do. 

These were the thoughts that ran through his head, a mile a minute, as he stood frozen across the street, watching you. His heart raced, and he wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you and him. Daichi’s breath hitched. Your eyes met his, a look of surprise painted across your features. Your lips formed into a small, sheepish smile. 

Daichi smiled back, immediately raising his hand to wave. But just as quickly as his hand shot up, your eyes flickered away. You clutched your coffee and turned away, heading in the opposite direction. Daichi’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach. He shoved his hands inside his jacket pockets, and willed himself to go forward. 

Daichi loved you enough to keep his distance, even with the ache in his chest and the ringing in his ears. The bittersweet memory of your smile was quickly burning itself on the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure what it meant, or even if it meant anything at all. He wasn’t sure what to do about it. One thing he was sure of, though, was that he loved you enough to wait. Yes, that’s it. He would wait.

[chyrstis]

Five WIPs!

@hunnybadgerv was kind enough to tag me to share five WIPs, and seeing as I’ve got a slight break from powerpoint slide hell, these are the ones that are definitely trying to fight for my attention the most. 

@writerofblocks @twistedsinews @shallow-gravy @cobb-vanthss @painterofhorizons @tommymillers @jackiesarch @ma-sulevin @redroci @geronimo-11 @unlikelynick @aceghosts @jackalopestride @scarlettkat86 @faithchel @vasiktomis @consumedkings and anyone else that’s interested! 

1. The Trap fic - I’ll get a proper name for this soon, I swear. Hana’s attempts in the Valley to stir things up lead to a shake up on her end, but also a new opportunity. A chance to get John and possibly use him for leverage, but the trick is keeping him alive first (and also surviving the trip). 

2. If you need a hand, take mine, I’ve got two - More No-Cult AU nonsense, where Sharky goes on a detour after helping out a group of stranded Project members only to get roped into helping out at Joseph’s compound. It’s just as much of a surprise to him to be there as it is to everyone he runs into, especially once John shows up and catches him there. 

3. If you need a hand companion fic/sequel - John’s mulling over the events of the other day while waiting for Sharky to come by to help on his day off, and finds himself faced with a few truths about the matter. This one’s decided it wants to be a high priority, but considering it’s a sequel to number two, it might need to cool its jets a bit. And working with John’s POV again after so long, has apparently lit a fire under those ideas, it seems. Because I’m back to working on another where he’s trying to cook while talking to Jacob about things. The jerk.

4. Wicked Ways - Future fic post-game. It’s morning, and Hana’s looking to take advantage of the added time she’s got with Sharky. Okay, I’ve got no excuses here, b/c this is pretty much PWP, but with these two off in the ol’ pine-y woods in Hana’s main series, any frustration over the fact that they’re not kissing yet’s definitely getting funneled here, and they’d definitely be making up for lost time a plenty if given the option. ;)

And these two are definitely tied for #5:

5. The dance - Future fic post-game. Hana drops in on John one day while he’s working only to find him listening to a few records he’s found. It’s something she could even dance to, and both decide to give it a try. I have no excuses here either, b/c I really just want them to dance together, and have Hana make a total dork of herself in the process (while also realizing that there’s friendly dancing, and then there’s this, accidental stepping on his feet aside)

5. How many licks? - Hana and Sharky share a cigarette on their way out of the Whitetails back to the Henbane, and Sharky shares a little story involving him and Hurk. Just a glorious excuse to write more Sharky, and also write about these two and Hurk, because I love it whenever they team up, and I’m so close to finishing it up. I just need a proper intro, and an ending. 

[literatureandshit]

What music each person from the gangesy like according to me

Gansey

He love lofi music, especially when he’s awake and can’t sleep. Gansey will go to YouTube and just look up “lofi music for when you can’t sleep” and then make an entire playlist out of it

Lots of instrumentals and classical music, Chopin, Bach, Beethoven. Sometimes when he’s building the mini version of Henrietta, he’ll have his head phones and will dance and work at the same time

Honestly he isn’t too fond of listening to music with words in them because he finds song lyrics to be distracting sometimes, but if he would he’d listen to opera, the greatest showman etc

Blue

Blue loves music with meaning, especially powerful music by women. Most of her music is empowering or based on her emotions.

She bases whatever she’s going to listen to by how’s she’s feeling in that moment. If she’s happy, Blue listens to pop music. If she’s feeling angry or frustrated, she’ll listen to rock, metal, or trap. But heavy metal is for when she’s especially pissed

She listens to a lot Bea Miller, Etta James, Rihanna. She definitely grew up with Aaliyah and Salt n Peppa. Maura made sure Blue got to experience all kinds of music. 300 Fox Way will sometimes boom with music all night

Ronan

Contrary to popular belief, EDM isn’t what he’s always listening to. Ronan’s music tastes are heavily based on rock and black music. He’ll listen to Metallica and Guns n Roses and also have 3 6 Mafia and Michael Jackson in the same playlist

Like Blue, Ronan’s music tastes are based on his emotions. It’s the one healthy outlet he has to process trauma and he uses it to his advantage. Rock usually makes him excited and he adores a good guitar solo (Adam and Gansey once sat with heart eyes while Ronan showed them different solos from different bands).

Rap/Trap or RnB is specifically for car rides with himself or with Adam. Whenever he’s thinking about his dad, Ronan will turn on Gangsta’s Paradise and belt the lyrics with his windows down. But on quiet nights when he’s feeling a little lonely in the barns he’ll pick up Adam and they’ll listen to Kali Uchis, Frank Ocean, Khalid, or Rihanna (Ronan loves her). It’s intimate and soft and one of the infinite ways Ronan expresses his love for Adam.

Adam

This boy loves Indie, trap, pop, classical, opera, anything under the sun I just know it. Adam doesn’t give a fuck what he’s listening to as long as it sounds nice to him. He favors music that sounds calm in his ear. He loves songs that use real life audios like cars, planes, people, running water and frogs. However, too many instruments or sounds at once can over stimulate him.

Adam listens to a lot of Clairo, Khalid, Doja Cat, the oldies most definitely especially Usher, Aaliyah, Beyoncé and Michael Jackson. He’ll listen to songs that tell storylines like the Rare Americans, and he likes raspy rough voices like Pop Smoke, Kevin Bates, Billie Eilish and Bleach. His playlists make no sense whatsoever and have really vague or ominous titles like “for that time when..” or “:).”

Sometimes the gangsey will huddle into the car at 3 am and listen to a bunch of albums together because none of them can sleep (Henry can though he’ll see them in the morning lol) and Adam is in charge of the songs

Noah

This boy loves noisy songs. Songs that don’t even make sense, songs that simply cannot be real to a normal person. Noah loves music like this. He takes so much joy in just listening to nonsense that’s catchy and he’ll get annoying about it

Noah loves 100 Gecs. He listens to them all the time, too much honestly. Whenever he’s in the passenger seat and reaches for the radio, everyone just sighs because they know what’s coming up. He also loves Yung Gravy and Y2K and will sometimes stream Tiny Meat Gang

He also loves foreign music thanks to Henry. He listens to Twice and NCT because he describes their music as, “no thoughts just vibes”. He knows every dance to their songs and will do it with Henry whenever possible. He just likes music that makes him feel like he’s having a great time

Henry

Besides kpop, Henry will listen to anything that makes him remember he’s a 10 amongst these 2s. He listens to anything that makes him feel confident and hot and sexy and empowering because why the fuck not? He’s very modern and enjoys modern music, so pop is his specialty

His artists are primarily women, but especially Lizzo. Cus I Luv You continues to be his favorite song, not because he’s in love, but because of the anount of emotion that was put into it. Women by Kesha is his runner up and he will play that song so much Blue manually removed it from his phone.

Both Henry and Blue love Ashnikko. They will ride around in the car just listening to her and many other artists. Sometimes they’ll cut school and go to the convenience store to get slushees and tell the lyrics while sitting on the hood of his car

Gangsey

It is a fight over who’s gonna sit in the front seat with whomever is driving. Passenger seat arrangements must be made in advance because if they do it while walking to the car someone is gonna end up in someone’s lap so they can play music.

Gansey, Blue, and Adam are neural in this regard and usually end up in the front. They play whatever songs are requested to them. They can adjust easily to whatever they’re listening to as long as they don’t listen to two country songs in a row.

Henry, Ronan, and Noah are actual heinous supervillains when it comes to manning the radio. One time Henry played “Bitch I’m Madonna” and Ronan almost ran them off the road. Ronan will play loud music for no reason and then laugh when everyone says to change it. And Noah gets to play a 100 Gecs song ONCE or he’ll never sit in the front seat again

[obsidiancreates]

Midnight Chat About The Past (That No Longer Exists)

It’s sometime in the middle of the night when Cavendish suddenly sits up, turning on the light.

Dakota groans, putting his pillow over his face. “What’re you doing?”

“You stopped something called the Mississippi Purchase, and I have no clue what that is.”

“Yeah? And? I told you this ages ago,” Dakota mumbles sleepily.

“So that means you’re from another timeline! Doesn’t it?”

“Mmph, yeah.”

“Dakota, why have we never discussed this?!”

“Because why would we?”

“Why would- you’re from an alternate timeline! How different was yours to this one?”

Dakota pulls his pillow tighter over his head. “Cav, I don’t wanna-”

“Oh no you don’t,” Cavendish says, tugging Dakota up into a sitting position. “We need to talk about this. Here we are, as... significant others, and I’ve just realized I don’t know a thing about your personal history before we met!”

Dakota sighs, and grabs his sunglasses from the night stand. “Alright, alright, I’ll talk a little. But if I sleep in tomorrow, it’s on you.”

“Very well, that’s fair.”

“Okay, what do you wanna know?”

“Let’s see... well, what was it... like? Describe it in... oh, I don’t know, literary setting terms.”

“... Okay... uh... kinda post-apocalyptic, a little? Not crazy bad, but like, there was a lotta gray skies, smoke stacks, things like that.”

“... What?”

“Yeah. There was this whole rebellion thing, some billionaire guys or something wrecked the world a bunch of years ago, I dunno. We didn’t really have history class.”

“Wh... but... but you’re so... relaxed. So... cheery, most of the time!”

Dakota grins. “I know, right? It’s great. Basically once I ended up here, where things aren’t completely terrible, I took advantage of it.”

“But then... how did you end up here? Someone invented time travel in that universe?”

“Yeah, not sure who, though. Like I said, no history class. It was... oh boy. This is not middle-of-the-night-whimsical stuff.”

“... We... we don’t have to discuss it right now, I’m sorry for pushing so hard.”

“Nah, nah, it’s okay. Just... prior warning, you know? Basically, society was set up as one big agency. Remember how I said that old gnome lady reminded me of my mother?”

Cavendish’s eyes widen. “Oh, gravy and giblets! Do your family not-”

Dakota shakes his head. “Looked ‘em up when I got hired, nothin’. Probably for the better, though, because they were not happy people. Having kids was basically just Making New Agents, so she uh... wasn’t exactly nurturing. It was her job to train me, not make sure I was, you know. Happy.”

“... So did you have to... fight people?”

“I was mostly a scout. Looking for food, supplies, that sort of thing. Lots of times I just came back with wax lips.”

“... Wax lips? You mean your habit of eating wax lips when you find them... is because of that?”

Dakota nods. “So what I think happened, based on stuff I gathered over the years, was that somehow the Mississippi Purchase lead to the founding of this company that made wax lips. They found some weird, revolutionary way to make them, and they mass-manufactured them for years. But they over-produced, set a bunch of dangerous precedents and laws, all kinds of stuff, that lead to the end of the world.”

“... Wax lips?”

“Makes as much sense as pistachio monsters.”

“Mmm, I suppose that’s true. But then, why did you collect them?”

“They were made of different stuff in my timeline, they could kind of trick your body into thinking you ate real food. Good way to keep from going hungry when rations were low.”

“So... is that why you’re so infatuated with food?”

“Yeah! We didn’t have burritos, or spaghetti, or Chinese takeout, or pizza... ah great, now I’m starving. Where were we again? ... Oh yeah, how I got here. They used to just send people back all the time to try and stop stuff, and you had to sign up for training to do that. I got sick of scouring for scraps and figured I’d give it a shot.”

“... Give it a shot? You decided to embark on a world-saving mission that casually?”

“Well, yeah. No-one had any real dreams or hopes about saving the world, especially not me. I just figured I could make things a little better, maybe take the machine out on joyrides and bring back some fruit, I don’t know.”

“But... you did stop it?”

“I went back one day, and things just sort of... fell into place. I prevented the purchase, and everything completely changed. I went back to my own time, and bam. A whole new future, way better than mine, in place of the one I knew.”

“... Did it sadden you?”

“Not really. Soon as I saw how much better things were, I decided it was time to relax. I was pretty young, had a whole life ahead of me now... Block kept me on as an agent, and I just rolled with it.”

“... That all sounds... horrifically traumatizing,” Cavendish says after a moment. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I managed to prove to Mr. Block that I was at least genuinely from a different timeline, not just a guy whole stole a time machine, and part of my training for that bureau was to see a therapist for a while. Then the day I met you was when I was dismissed from it. The burrito was a sort of celebration.”

“... And you still decided to buy me one as well?”

“It’s nice to be able to share things sometimes.”

Cavendish stares for a moment, unsure of how to respond to such a casually heartbreaking and bittersweet statement. In the end, his response his... less than the heartfelt comments he’d considered. “... How have we never discussed any of this before?!”

Dakota shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me anymore. I’ve got a better life, I’ve got time to relax, I’ve got my tunes, and I’ve got you. My past literally doesn’t exist anymore, so why bring it up?”

They sit in thoughtful silence for a few minutes.

“Does... does all of that... have anything to do with... saving me, all those times?”

“I dunno. You’re Cavendish, what are you gonna do? I wanted to save you, so I did.”

He leans over, and gives Cavendish a quick peck on the lips. “Now can we get back to sleep? Because otherwise I’m going to knock you out with this pillow.”

Cavendish blinks. Did Dakota even have pillows in his old timeline? What about beds? Blankets? And didn’t Dakota technically save the world? Doesn’t this mean Dakota has done so, or at least had a part in doing so, twice? How can he be so casual and flippant about that?! And why wouldn’t he use that to get a better job at the Bureau of Time Travel?!

Before Cavendish can ask any more questions, Dakota reaches over and turns off the light. “Night, Cav.”

It’s only moments later that Cavendish hears Dakota begin to snore.

... Hmm.

He lays back down himself, looking at Dakota’s peaceful, resting face. Cavendish takes one of Dakota’s hands in his own, and watches a small smile form on his sleeping partner’s face.

... No wonder Dakota doesn’t feel a need to dwell on his past.

The present... is pretty good.

Cavendish smiles, and shuts his eyes. Oh, he’ll bombard Dakota with more questions after they wake up, of course. 

But for now, he just snuggles closer to his partner, and enjoys the moment as he drifts back to sleep.

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

(Yeah I don’t know where this came from. It’s the middle of the night and I just started typing and all of this happened. But I like it, so I’m posting it XD)

[askkrenko]

Krenko’s Guide to Pokemon: Abra Line

Some Pokemon ebb and flow through generations, becoming stronger or weaker as the Meta changes, sometimes being powerful sometimes being unusable. Alakazam is not one of those Pokemon. Alakazam has always been strong. And Alakazam will probably always be strong. DESIGN:  I have no idea what these things are supposed to be. It’s sort of rat-ish but not really. Maybe a possum? I have no idea. Is it a mammal? Is it scaly? Is it chitinous? I think it’s chitinous.   But you know what? This is a good thing. It’s such a unique creature that it really stands out among those derived from real and mythological things.  Kadabra looks like a reasonable bigger Abra. It stands upright, it has a moustache, it has psychic symbols on its head and stomach, its chest armor thickens, and it has that huge, meaty tail. It also has a bendy spoon, popularized by famous magical Jew ‘Uri Geller,’ who Kadabra takes his Japanese name, Yungerer, from.  Him suing their asses is why Kadabra tends not to show up much outside of the games. 

Kadabra to Alakazam is less pronounced but still interesting. The moustache becomes huge and majestic, the ‘armor’ adds bracers and kneepads, the feet thicken, and the tail... falls off? Where does its tail go?  It’s a weird design decision, but all three look great and interesting.

And then at the extreme end is Mega Alakazam. Mega Alakazam looks exactly what you’d expect it to look like.  It’s head is spikier, its facial hair is more majestic, and it has so many spoons.  It also gives off a very Hindu vibe, seated in meditation like a classic guru.  EVOLUTIONS:  Abra to Kadabra at level 16 is pretty standard, as both forms are overall about on par with those of starters. Then Kadabra to Alakazam is a trade evolution. I’m of very mixed feelings about Trade Evolutions, because Trade Evolutions don’t really do what the’re supposed to do. Yes, they require a friend to help you, but it’s always trade and trade back, never ‘new owner gets to use the evolved form.’ Back in the early days of Pokemon this was actually a big part of getting people together, but now with online trading it feels a bit outdated.  Still, it’s grandfathered in and I can’t really complain, I just wish there was a way they could rework it to still be ‘you need help from a friend’ without having to do the ‘trade/trade back.’

Mega Alakazam is cool but so viciously unnecesarry. Alakazam was already a very powerful Pokemon, and it really, really didn’t need a Mega Evolution. Sure, Uber Tiers are a thing people want to do, and if you want to fight against Mewtwo and Arceus you need Mega Alakazam, but Legendaries tend to be banned from tournament play anyway. TYPING: Pure psychic is technically a sub-par type, as more things resist it than are weak to it, and it’s weak to more things than it resists. Still, these aren’t major drawbacks. More of a drawback is that Psychic is a very common type, so Alakazam has a lot of competition among its type.

STATS: Alakazam’s stat total is a perfectly average 500... Except it’s stat distribution is amazing.  With garbage HP, Attack, and Defense, Alakazam has 135 Special and 120 Speed, both incredible.  Alakazam is more than capable of one-shotting a lot of pokemon with special attacks, and it’s usually going to go first. It’s special defense is decent, though not enough to make it want to eat an attack with such low HP. Overall, this is a great distribution for an all out attacker. Mega Alakazam’s got 175 Special Attack and 150 speed. Because it totally needed that.

ABILITIES: Synchronize, Alakazam’s first ability, is not helpful. If Alakazam becomes afflicted by a status effect, the opponent gets it, too, but because this only applies to effects inflicted by the opponent and not self-inflicted ones, there’s really no way to take advantage of this. Inner Focus prevents Flinching and Intimidate. As Alakazam has no Attack worth noting, being intimidated doesn’t matter. As Alakazam is hella fast, Flinching only matters against Fake Out. Immunity to Fake Out isn’t nothing, especially in doubles, but this is not Alakazam’s best option. Magic Guard, Alakazam’s hidden ability, prevents Alakazam from taking damage from anything that isn’t an attack. This includes burn, poison, weather, leech seed, Life Orb, Spikes, and any form of recoil. This is just super good, and basically means any Alakazam not planning to go Mega gets Life Orb no questions asked. Mega Alakazam gets Trace, which copies an opponent’s ability at first opportunity. This is a serious downgrade from Alakazam, but +40 Special Attack and +30 Speed so shut up and enjoy your Mega Alakazam.

MOVES: Alakazam has ONE JOB and that’s to spam Psychic with STAB and Life Orb and 135 base special and max Special EVs so everything dies. Steel, Dark, and Psychic types are resistant to Psychic.  Fortunately, Focus Blast is good against both Steel and Dark, and other Psychic types are weak to Shadow Ball.

There, you’ve got an Alakazam. With one slot to spare. You could pick up Psyshock to deal with enemies with high Special Defense, or Energy Ball or Dazzling Gleam for more coverage. 

Nasty Plot’s pretty great. If you manage to get a free turn to use it, it basically guarantees Alakazam’s downing anything in one shot. Thunder Wave is always useful. Encore can trap an opponent in a sub-optimal move choice. In the event of Mega Alakazam (but not so much normal Alakazam), Recover’s a reasonable option. With higher defenses and a lack of Magic Guard, spending a turn to clean up damage can be useful.  General frailty also means it might benefit Alakazam to set up a Substitute if it has a moment. It doesn’t need it to protect from status conditions and such, but having that shield up for if something does outspeed with a physical attack can be very important.  Every Alakazam should have Psychic and Focus Blast. After that, it’s all based on personal strategy. 

OVERALL: Alakazam was one of the best pokemon back in Gen 1 and is still great for all the same reasons. When you’re fast and do a lot of damage, you have a competitive place. Magic Guard is just gravy.  

I still have no idea if its chitinous, mammalian, or what an I love that I don’t know that. 

[tessatechaitea]

The Invisibles #4

Is this how idiotic social beliefs are purged from assholes?

I don't understand the people who want less politics in comic books. We need more politics in comic books! Except what I don't really understand is using the word "politics" when they're actually angry about discussing social ills. Except I really do understand what they mean when they refer to social issues as politics. Certain people refer to being compassionate and kind and inclusive as "political correctness" because they can't imagine being compassionate or kind or inclusive until the cost of not being those things adversely affects them. So they think people only believe in being that way if it confers some kind of selfish advantage, usually in the political arena. And thus actually being a compassionate human being becomes political to them. Also, can we just stop arguing about how comic books used to be when they've always been about making the world a better place and there have always been comic book fans who found that political because they were terrible people? A terrible person reading a comic book where Batman stops some bank robbers can feel good about the story because they know they'll never rob a bank. But when Batman deals with some social ill, the terrible reader might see themselves reflected back at them in the villain of the story. Suddenly, to them, the story has become political. How dare the comic book company choose the other side which is just a political difference and not a basic human decency issue! And they never think, "Maybe, like Batman, I should also try to do better?" No, instead they send a letter to the publisher demanding that the publisher change the stories they tell so that they don't have to take a long, hard look at themselves. Ideas are political. If you think a story about Batman breaking the bones of The Joker's henchmen because The Joker is robbing banks isn't political, you're kidding yourself. You're just not looking deeply enough into the story and the systemic problems in Gotham that creates a demand for henchmen that are desperate enough to work for a maniac who could murder them at any moment while also having to worry about a man in a bat suit nearly killing them for working for the maniac. How is a billionaire going out at night dressed as a flying rodent to beat up poor and mentally ill people not political? How is any Superman story not political when it's about an immigrant to America embracing his new country and trying to make it a better place for everybody? If you actually think you want comic books to not be political, you're telling on yourself. You're just saying that you're the type of person who doesn't want to read criticism's about our world that might make you feel guilty about your selfish attitude. The Invisibles is an old comic book which came out 26 years ago and it couldn't be more political. But then it's dealing with magic and the irreality of reality, so if you're dumb enough, you can probably pretend it's not political at all.

This issue begins with a Books of Magic trading card.

At the end of the last issue, Tom told Dane they were going to climb to the top of the skyscraper with the magic pyramid on top and leap off. It was going to teach Dane about the finality of life and not really kill him. But when this issue begins, they seem to have put that off for the moment. Instead, they've stolen a sports car, driven it out to some sleepy little UK pasture, and begun a game of catch with a Frisbee. Tom starts rambling on about how his time is up and he's going to die because he's a warrior sorcerer and his time is up and he can see the shape of his life and it's super small and everything sucks but it also doesn't, you know? Dane barely listens to him because he's now full of life again and he just wants to do the things people who feel alive do. I don't know what those things are because I just sit in barely lit rooms reading terrible books from my youth and finding reasons not to begin writing my second module for my role playing game, Places & Predators. I should take a break and call my mother! I'm back! I also ate and watched an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation and an episode of Community and lay on the couch with Gravy.

Gravy's head is behind mine and not inside mine because we don't own a teleportation device and, if we did, we wouldn't be so careless with it.

The next day, Tom and Dane head off to jump off of a skyscraper. Tom will presumably be doing it for real because he's tired and he's done his part and he thinks Dylan Thomas is a fucking asshole who can't just let a person die in peace when they're ready to go. I mean, lay off me, Dylan! I'm fucking dying here! This isn't about you and your fear of death (which, ironically, is probably why you drink so much and why you'll be dead at 39). Dane smokes some blue mold which will probably allow him to fly or bounce or something. Sometimes I think about the angst of youth and then I think about how optimistic and embracing Quiet Riot was of the youth and youth culture and it just makes me fucking smile, man. That wasn't supposed to be a non sequitur. That was just a reaction I had to Tom telling some bystanders witnessing Dane's drug induced realizations, "It's drugs. Dope. They're all on it nowadays. With their computer games and violent videos and swear words. We had The Bible and a nice apple when I was his age." Tom is being smarmy and telling the adults what they want to hear. And, especially with reference to their video games, it made me think of Quiet Riot who didn't care what adults wanted to hear. They knew what the kids needed to hear. And it wasn't just "Being a teenager sucks and we get it and the world is garbage!" Their message was often "We see how things are different for you and how you cope differently than we did and we fucking get it man and we approve and you're going to be all right. Your doing good, kids." Most of you probably only know "Metal Health" and "Cum on Feel the Noize" so you're thinking, "What the fuck are you talking about?" But some of you also know "Winners Take All" and "The Wild and the Young" so you fucking know what I'm talking about.

This reminds me of The Last Temptation of Christ.

The problem with books that revolve around Jesus is that I truly can't tell if they're making a statement about secular life or if they're truly reinforcing the opinion that Jesus was the son of God and the only truth you need to know about Jesus is that he was resurrected. Was Jesus preaching about being good on Earth because it was the salvation of your soul and your way into heaven? Or was Jesus literally trying to tell everybody to give unto Caesar what is Caesar's because this shit don't matter, bro. Fuck Earth and Earthly conceits. Should every action taken on Earth be concerned with your spiritual self and your relationship with God and getting into heaven? Because I'm tempted to see The Last Temptation of Christ as a parable for secular life. Are we all Christ in the desert being tempted by the devil away from our true calling? But if all the regular trappings of society are illusions and lures away from whatever it is we should do, what is there really? What would a person do if they didn't have a career? Or a spouse? Or a mortgage? Or a child? Not falling for those temptations isn't enough, right? So what's the next step? Sacrificing your own desires for the common good of the world? But what common good would that be if people aren't supposed to fall for any material temptations?! What are we striving for if we aren't striving for everybody to equally fall for the same societal illusions?! What is the magic asking of us?! To just burn it all down to prove that we weren't fooled by any of it?! How is waking up outside of The Matrix better than living within it?! Show me my fucking cards before you ask me to jump off the top of a skyscraper is what I'm saying! You know what? I think that's what Jesus asked God the night of the Last Supper! Jumping off of a skyscraper to get Dane to pierce the illusion of reality and see what lies beneath is way better than giving him a red or blue pill. The Matrix pussed out, even though it had this scene from The Invisibles as a perfect example of what it was doing. Dane survives the leap and finds himself in a four color comic sci-fi pulp novel cover. The world has changed and he's not sure what to do. So he goes to the address of the Invisible College that Tom gave him. He's finally ready to report for duty. Dane meets the other Invisibles: King Mob, Ragged Robin, Boy, and Lord Fanny (which would have gone right over my head in 1994 and possibly only made it into the comic book because the editors didn't know quite enough British slang). As far as drag names go, Lord Fanny is proper good. Meanwhile, some shadowy guy answers a phone call from Orlando (probably exactly the Orlando you're thinking of because why not? He/she was good enough for The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen). They discuss raiding an Invisibles safe house they've discovered. But the non-Orlando guy on the phone can't direct it because he's got British politics to do.

Back in 1994, I also wouldn't have understood what this door with the 10 on it was telling me about the person on the phone.

Dane decides to stick with The Invisibles as Jack Frost and they make their getaway before Orlando and the Prime Minister's Myrmidons break into the safe house. All they find is a chalkboard that reads, "Big Brother is watching you. Learn to become invisible," and a pink grenade with the word "smile" printed on it in ransom letter letters. And that's the end of the first story arc. The Invisibles #4 Rating: A. I'm seriously getting angry at my 23 year old self for not continuing to purchase this series. It's hard to remember exactly where I was at that time in my life that caused me to stop reading it. I'm sure I liked it. Maybe I just had trouble remembering it from month to month. Or maybe I just missed Issue #6 at the comic book store (I never had anything put on hold. I'd just show up on Wednesdays (unless it was Thursday back then? I can't even remember that!) and pick up my books (I didn't even ask the store to hold a copy of the Death of Superman for me. The clerk, Jeff, just happened to hold one for me anyway. He probably thought I was super cool or something)) and so just forgot about the series. Maybe I'll pick up the collected edition whenever my local comic book store reopens. Although if I show my face in there, they may try to get me to buy comics that were placed in my pull box after I cancelled my pull box. See, they weren't getting comics from Diamond for over a month and I just decided it was as good a time as any to stop buying new comics. So I cancelled my pull box. But what if, in their mind, I was still on the hook to buy all the comics for the weeks that Diamond didn't ship?! That would be fucked up and, knowing me, I'd instantly cave and say, "Oh yeah! Okay! Sorry! Sorry! I'll purchase all of this shit I don't want anymore just so we don't continue this awkward conversation!"

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Over the course of the Democratic primary, Latinos have been a crucial part of Sen. Bernie Sanders’s base. His campaign has made a concerted effort to win their support, with resounding success thus far: According to entrance and exit polls, he won 50 percent of Latinos in Nevada, 50 percent in California and 39 percent in Texas. And three of the states that vote on Tuesday — Arizona, Florida, and Illinois — have large Latino or Hispanic populations, which could be good news for Sanders.

But there are signs that he may lose strength with this group in the next round of primaries — and at least part of the racial divide that’s emerged in the contests so far may shift. As the newly dominant national front-runner, former Vice President Joe Biden may have new openings to win over Latinos in Arizona and Illinois — in particular, older Latinos. Additionally, Sanders is especially weak among Hispanic voters in Florida, where his support for socialism and praise of aspects of the communist revolution in Cuba may have hurt him.

“Sanders is continuing to perform well among Latino voters in states like Washington, but it’s not like Latino voters overwhelmingly dislike Biden,” said Matt Barreto, a professor of political science at the University of California, Los Angeles, and the co-founder of Latino Decisions. “The question is whether Latino voters start seeing Biden as the true front-runner in this next round of states and start to shift toward him, or if they are staying with Sanders.”

Sanders still has a good shot among Latinos in Illinois and Arizona

It might not be enough to help Sanders win Illinois or Arizona — according to our model, Biden has a 49 in 50 (98 percent) chance of winning Illinois, and a 29 in 30 (97 percent) chance of winning Arizona — but Sanders still seems likely to outperform Biden among Latinos in both states. In Illinois, a new Emerson College poll showed Sanders leading Biden 56 percent to 42 percent among Hispanic or Latino likely voters, despite Biden’s 20-point lead in the state overall; Gravis Marketing found a similar split. And two recent polls of Arizona — one sponsored by Telemundo and the other by Univision/Arizona State University — each gave Sanders a single-digit lead among Hispanic or Latino Democrats there. A third Arizona poll, by local firm OH Predictive Insights, did give Biden a big lead among both Hispanic or Latino Democrats and Democrats overall, but it was conducted almost entirely before former New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg and Sen. Elizabeth Warren dropped out of the race.

Another good sign for Sanders: The Latino populations in these two states skew young compared with a state like Florida, more similar to other heavily Latino states where Sanders has already performed well, such as California and Nevada. That’s helpful for Sanders because he is extremely popular among young voters, including Latinos — he won 71 percent of Latinos under the age of 30 in California, according to the exit polls. And it will likely be difficult to convince many of those younger supporters to switch their allegiance to Biden, according to Vincent Casillas, a Democratic strategist who lives in Chicago and worked on Hispanic communications on Barack Obama’s 2008 presidential campaign.

Casillas pointed out that Sanders has the support of several progressive Latino politicians from Illinois — most prominently, Rep. Chuy Garcia — who are popular among younger voters. And although Casillas is a Biden supporter, he admitted that Sanders has a big edge when it comes to voter outreach among Latinos in Illinois. “The age divide is going to be a big problem for Biden here — there’s no way to sugarcoat it,” Casillas said. “Sanders has done a great job of organizing and energizing young Latinos here in Illinois. He’s way ahead of Biden in terms of outreach to this group.”

But Biden has at least one advantage in Illinois that plays less of a role in other states — his affiliation with Obama, who lived in Chicago for years and is still very popular with the Latino community there, according to Casillas and others. “Obama is still number-one in Illinois and so I think you may see some Latinos, maybe older Latinos in particular, just naturally migrate toward Biden’s campaign because of his affiliation with Obama and the fact that he’s winning other states.”

In Arizona, meanwhile, an eagerness to support the candidate who can beat Trump may nudge some Latinos into Biden’s column. Eduardo Sainz, the Arizona state director for Mi Familiar Vota, a Latino civic engagement organization, said that Latino Democrats in Arizona, like Democrats across the country, are eager to support a candidate who can win a general election against Trump, because so many Latinos are first or second-generation immigrants. “Many people are feeling a lot of fear under this administration, so I’ve seen that defeating Trump is a top priority for many Latinos in Arizona,” he said.

And voting for Biden is likely no big stretch for Latino Democrats. Even if he’s not quite as beloved as Sanders, most Latino Democrats in Arizona like the former vice president just fine. In a December poll by Equis Labs, 50 percent of them had a favorable opinion of Sanders, while just 14 percent had an unfavorable one; Biden was viewed favorably by 44 percent and unfavorably by 27 percent.

But Sainz has also observed an age divide among volunteers for his organization that leads him to believe that many young Latinos will continue to support Sanders. “From our older volunteers, I am increasingly hearing that they want to make sure that we beat Trump and based on what they’re hearing they think Biden has a better and better chance, so their vote is going to Biden,” he said. “But the younger demographic are pretty much either undecided or voting for Sanders.”

Even if Sanders wins Latinos in Arizona and Illinois, though, his victories might be less decisive than in states like California. “Now that Biden has gained front-runner status, I don’t think we’ll see as many dramatic wins for Sanders among Latinos,” Barreto said. And perhaps most importantly, Biden is still forecasted to win both states in spite of Sanders’s strength with Latinos.

But Sanders seems likely to lose Hispanic voters in Florida

On the other hand, Hispanic voters are likely to contribute to a massive Biden win in Florida. Biden is leading Sanders there by an average of more than 40 percentage points and has a >99 percent chance of winning there according to the FiveThirtyEight forecast. And according to most recent polls, Biden is leading among Hispanic or Latino Floridians by large margins (if not quite as large as statewide) — in stark contrast to other states.

Biden leads among Hispanic voters in Florida

Top Democratic candidates’ support among poll respondents who identified as Hispanic or Latino (depending on the poll) in seven recent Florida polls

Pollster Dates Biden Sanders Mason-Dixon/Telemundo March 4-7 48% 37% Florida Atlantic University March 5-7 45 25 St. Pete Polls/Florida Politics March 6-8 68 17 University of North Florida March 5-10 65 28 Gravis Marketing March 10-12 49 46 Emerson College March 11-12 64 28 Point Blank Political March 11-13 45 41

Includes the most recent poll by each pollster that has surveyed the race since Super Tuesday.

Source: Polls

It’s a good reminder that Hispanic or Latino voters nationwide aren’t a monolith. Like other voters, their political views often vary along other demographic dimensions, such as age and ethnic origin. For instance, the Hispanic population in Florida skews older — 35 percent are older than 44, compared with 24 percent in each of Arizona and Illinois — putting Sanders at a natural disadvantage.

And in Arizona and Illinois — as well as California, Nevada and Texas — the Latino population is overwhelmingly Mexican American. But Florida is far more diverse. A plurality (29 percent) of the Hispanic population there identifies as Cuban American, and there are hundreds of thousands of Venezuelan Americans and Nicaraguan Americans as well. Sanders’s brand of democratic socialism is distinct from the policies of former Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez, but he did support Nicaragua’s communist government in the 1980s. And according to Barreto, some of the Hispanic population in Florida may be “very uncomfortable with the socialism that has been practiced in their countries in Latin America,” and could be wary of supporting a self-identified democratic socialist like Sanders.

Sanders certainly did himself no favors among Cuban Americans when he told 60 Minutes recently that “it’s unfair to simply say everything [former Cuban President Fidel Castro did] is bad,” citing Castro’s literacy program. The remarks led to a swift backlash, especially in Florida. Rep. Debbie Mucarsel-Powell, one of two Hispanic Democrats who represent Florida in Congress, tweeted, “I find Senator Bernie Sanders’ comments on Castro’s Cuba absolutely unacceptable.” Two weeks later, she endorsed Biden.

Overall, Sanders now looks extremely unlikely to win the Democratic nomination for president, and cracks have emerged in his previously solid base of Latino support, but whether Latino voters move decisively into Biden’s column on Tuesday remains to be seen. If it does happen, it could be a symbolic final blow to Sanders’s campaign.

Confidence Interval: The First Female President Will Be A Republican

https://ift.tt/2wW1fdV

[tiesthatbind1899]

OC Personality Test

 1. Go to this website. 2. Choose an OC and take the test for them. 3. Put their stats here.

This was so fun, and I feel like I might have a better grasp on the character now because of this!  Thank you so much, @shallow-gravy​, for the tag!  This is for Constance, the OC in Memories of the West.

Advocate (INFJ-T)

Advocates have an inborn sense of idealism and morality, but what sets them apart is that they are not idle dreamers. These individuals are capable of taking concrete steps to realize their goals and make a lasting positive impact.

People with this personality type tend to see helping others as their purpose in life. Advocates can often be found engaging in rescue efforts and doing charity work. However, their real passion is to get to the heart of the issue so that people need not be rescued at all.

Advocates indeed share a unique combination of traits. Though soft-spoken, they have very strong opinions and will fight tirelessly for an idea they believe in. They are decisive and strong-willed, but will rarely use that energy for personal gain.

Advocates will act with creativity, imagination, conviction, and sensitivity not to create an advantage, but to create balance. Egalitarianism and karma are very attractive ideas to Advocate personalities. These types tend to believe that nothing would help the world so much as using love and compassion to soften the hearts of tyrants.

Advocates find it easy to make connections with others. They have a talent for warm, sensitive language, speaking in human terms, rather than with pure logic and fact.

It makes sense that their friends and colleagues will come to think of them as quiet Extraverted personality types. However, they would all do well to remember that Advocates need time alone to decompress and recharge, and not to become too alarmed when they suddenly withdraw. Advocates take great care of others’ feelings, and they expect the favor to be returned – sometimes that means giving them the space they need for a few days.

Really, though, it is most important for people with the Advocate personality type to remember to take care of themselves. The passion of their convictions is perfectly capable of carrying them past their breaking point. If their zeal gets out of hand, they can find themselves exhausted, unhealthy, and stressed.

This becomes especially apparent when Advocates find themselves up against conflict and criticism. Their sensitivity forces these personalities to do everything they can to evade these seemingly personal attacks. When the circumstances are unavoidable, however, they can fight back in highly irrational, unhelpful ways.

To Advocates, the world is a place full of inequity – but it doesn’t have to be. No other personality type is better suited to create a movement to right a wrong, no matter how big or small. Advocates just need to remember that while they’re busy taking care of the world, they need to take care of themselves, too.

4% Extraverted / 96% Introverted 60% Intuitive / 40% Observant 37% Thinking / 63% Feeling 79% Judging / 21% Prospecting 46% Assertive / 54% Turbulent

Strengths: creative, insightful, inspiring and convincing, decisive, determined and passionate, and altruistic.

Weaknesses: sensitive, extremely private, perfectionistic, always need a cause, can burn out easily.

Tagging @electriicfleur​ because I’d love to see Tallulah or Maggie :) 

[gwydionmisha]

Personal: I Don't Need a Nanny

The autodialers have been particularly aggressive the last couple of weeks.  Monday there were five calls in the last hour before the alarm, plus I think three others earlier in my sleep cycle.  Why don't I turn off the phone while I sleep?  Because two of those calls were real.  (A time sensative medical one and the Coop telling me that my gravy will never come).  The gravy thing is really distressing.  It was the perfect vegetarian gravy: ideal taste and texture, super easy to use.  Sigh.  I went in and we spitched the order to some other strange gravy. Let's hope I like it.

The really infuriating thing was three of the eightcalls Monday was a robot from my medicare advantage that could not understand my voice calling to demand I self accuse for skipping a dose on one of my meds.  1. I haven't been skippig doses of this particular drug so WTF.  2. A bunch of my other meds allow some variable dosing.  For example, I usually take one rantidine to smooth over the patch towards the end of my Omneprazole dose before the next dose kicks in, but I am allowed a second if there's break through nausea.  Or I take three doses of my lung ampule when my lungs are bad, but I usually only need two a day and i'm allowed to do that because, you know time consumng and side effects.  Why take more than I need if it's gong to raise my blood pressure and give me heart palpatations?  Or I stop takingmy AS meds when I'm on atibiotics.  I'm a competent adult and I know the difference between things like sivastatin and levithyroxine where you don't want to skip and things where my Doctor trusts my judgement and lets me take what I need.

Look, I get why you want meds tracking for say, patients with serious psychiatric or heart conditions or dementia, but that's not me.  I feel like one size fits all is a terrible idea.  This should be opt in for patients who are able to manage their own affairs.  Also, I really, really resented the accusatory tone of the recorded message, especially since I hadn't missed any doses.  There was no opt out option.  I was forced to block the number, thus freeing another scammer to start the harrassment cycle again.

Apparently they only have one autodialer, because a live human woke me up to harass me over my sivastatin again on Tuesday (one of five calls to wake me up.) even though I still hadn't missed any doses.  Luckily my grumpy rant caused the live human to opt me out which they actually can do.  I

This nanny bulshit makes me hostile.  I'm a mentally vigourous person who juggles 21-25 meds on an elaborate schedule every fucking day.  My brain process large quantities of information on a regular basis.  I do not need constant interference just because my disability means I am extremely fucking poor.  I want to be left the fuck alone unless they are offering me something that actually helps like better benefits.  Stealing my sleep so a machine can scold me is nt helping.

Anyway, Tuesday I went down to do a DNR form with my Doctor nd a nice lady she was training.  I have very strongviews about things I do not want done to me when I'm unconscious or incoherent because I have a realistic view of what, say a feeding tube or ventilator are really like and what my likely end of life is going to look like given my assorted degenerative genetic diseases.  My family has alwauys been like that: realistic about the facts of dying, prone to chosing quality over quantity, rejecting the fucked up denial of american death culture.  I come from a loooong line of people who make jokes on their own death bed and emphatically reject heroic measures when it's clearly time to just let go.  Like a lot of health care workers, they too had their own DNRs and had a similar attitude towards the whole thing, so we chatted and did up the form and sent me on my way.  Next on the list: make an appontment with Law advocates to get the legal endsorted.

Don't worry, gentle readers, this does not signal my imminent demise.  It's just that I've been meaning to get around to this stuff for several years, but you know: chronic illness.

[diamond-song42]

Card Shark 30: Mage Meadowbrook, Pillar of Healing

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! As I go out to celebrate today, I'd like to thank you all for reading another Card Shark and giving my content a peek. Now then! As it is an Ultra Rare column day, I wanted to highlight one of my favorite Friends Forever cards that also happens to highlight one of my favorite MLP characters. And boy, is she something. Here's my take on "Mage Meadowbrook, Pillar of Healing!"

Don't let this pony's weird mask (which I covered in a previous column) and Cajun accent fool you; she is one tough cookie. When she enters the battlefield, all your opponent's Resources and Troublemakers are dismissed. Wait, what?! EACH opposing Resource and Troublemaker?! That almost sounds too good to be true! Staff of Sacanas? Gone. Pony of Shadows? Buh-bye. Varmint Barricade? Toast. Study Session? Don't hit the door on the way out. Holy shit, she is amazing. It's also worth pointing out that this is a "when this card enters play" effect rather than a "when you play this card" effect, which means that yes, it can be repeated with cards like Paradox Pony or Interdimensional Portal.

But of course, I must shine a light on the bad things. Yes, she is a "when this card enters play" card. But let's be real, that is likely not going to last. Do I think she'll hit the banlist like Vapor Trail or Guidance Counselor? I'm honestly not sure. At the very least, I think she will be errataed in the same way as Fancy Pants and Party Clasher. There's another issue here that's at play: Is she worth looping like that? You want to play this when it will hit the hardest, even with Paradox Pony. Preferably, for me, this is when there are lots of powerful Resources in play (less for the Troublemakers). After you Meadowbrook everything and your opponent tries to set up again, there are cheaper alternatives like Bewitched Beavers and Seabreeze's Flower. Basically what I'm saying is that Meadowbrook might not be worth repeatedly activating. She's great one time, but after that cheaper options may be more viable. (Of course, this is just my opinion - you can take my words with a grain of salt. Or lots of grains.)

Here are some cards (besides cards previously discussed) that you can use to REALLY stir up some trouble with this card:

*Minuette, Fast Forward. I have a big list of suggestions as a treat! If you want a Harmony alternative to Interdimensional Portal, this is a decent one. This is one of my favorite Absolute Discord Friends. I like her because, while she isn’t Immediate like Portal, she is much easier to repeat than Portal and can’t be cancelled with something like Wake Up Call (unless she is dismissed). Plus, it can discourage your opponent from resetting their Resources since Meadowbrook is just gonna swing back in and destroy everything again. I wouldn’t call it better than Portal, but if you like to get chaotic, I’d recommend using BOTH this and Portal to your advantage.

*Gravy Boat, Hot Stuff. You might be asking yourself, "Why would I be recommending another Absolute Discord card? Am I insane?" Well, if you didn't know that by now, I have some news for ya. The reason I choose this card instead of something cheaper like, say, Fluttershy, Kind Pony or Lie Low is because Gravy Boat isn’t limited to bouncing opposing Friends. That’s right: Gravy Boat can bounce your own Friends back to your hand. You can play your Meadowbrook and then Gravy Boat her back to your hand before your opponent can permanently take her out of the mix. Of course, this doesn’t stop certain Immediates like Belly Flop, but it can bypass Prince Rutherford as a frightened Meadowbrook would still be considered a Friend. (Yes, I DO have a thing for weird cards, thanks for noticing!)

*Cloudchaser & Flitter, Filly Racers. When it comes to AT, I find there are two big things players like: Gaining extra AT with little effort and reducing the cost of a card in some way. Baby Cici and Flits here fulfill that second part with an Immediate to boot (though chances are you wouldn’t be playing Meadowbrook on your opponent’s turn unless you had Under the Wire). In Meadowbrook’s case specifically, one of the 3 AT you need to play her can be traded for a little more power, also Cici and Flits’ doing! I choose this card specifically because it is part Yellow and can help with color req if necessary - the extra 1 power is nice, potentially game-changing, but I don’t think it’s as pivotal in Meadowbrook’s case.

*The EEA Council, Strict Guidelines. I never thought I’d be recommending this card on one of my suggestion lists, but here I am! Assuming you have this in play before you slam down Meadowbrook and you are playing Meadowbrook during the Main Phase, the Council essentially halts any Immediates like Belly Flop that could ruin Meadowbrook’s fun. Your opponent can only watch in horror as the Mystical Mask tears through their playing field like one of those crop cutting tractors. And it is brilliant. Doesn’t stop your opponent from taking their own Main Phase action to do whatever to Meadowbrook, but by then the damage is done and you’ll be getting ahead in no time.

*Magical Misfire. Who's a fucked up combo? THIS is a fucked up combo! First you play Meadowbrook and do all that dismissing. Then you slam the Magical Misfire down to guarantee that your opponent will not be seeing those cards again. Sure, there are Resource recovery options such as Sweetie Belle, Cutie Mark Crusader (see one of my previous columns!), but they aren't Immediate. It's best if you just erase everything in one fell swoop.

*Turning Point. So what if your opponent has a Troublemaker that you find interesting but don’t want to dismiss? Use Turning Point to steal it first! That way, when Meadowbrook enters play, it won’t be dismissed and your opponent either has to steal it back or challenge it themselves. I’ve stressed this before and I’ll say it again: How. Is. This. A. Common?!

*What’s Old is New Again. And on the subject of Harmony... in case Meadowbrook has been dismissed, this Event can put her back into play to let her do all kinds of dismissy shit. I pick this one over the similar Redeeming Qualities because this card also allows you to play Resources from your discard pile. Banishing this card after playing it might seem a little frustrating, but I see plenty of people play Read the Manual and be fine with it, so I still advocate for this card.

*Somnambula’s Blindfold. Wait, what?! I’m suggesting a different Pillar’s Resource for this card?! Yes I am! No matter what order you play these two in, they go together amazingly. After Meadowbrook does all her dismissy shit, the Blindfold prevents your opponent from getting any of those cards back! This especially stings if your opponent has already played a Resource removal card. Of course, the Blindfold can always been dismissed after the fact, so consider this one of the riskier plays on my suggestion list.

Thanks so much for reading this extra special Card Shark! Next week, I return to the usual Sharks with an emphasis on Seaquestria and Beyond! You’ll be seeing another Ultra Rare Shark when the big 40th column comes around! Hope you’ll come back then! Diamond out!

[freshbleats-blog]

How to do Fresh Bleats

Hey Booked Comics, 

Here are a few things to keep in mind for the show.

1. Perform 5 minutes of brand new material.

-This show is for generating new material that has never been performed before so take advantage of it.

2. Participate in the “tag in” after a comic performs their new 5.

-Kate is on the overhead mic and will ask the seated comics if anyone wants to tag in and will gently nudge someone to go up first. Only one person on stage at a time so the first comic sits and the tagged in comic gets up. The tag in part lasts for 2 minutes total but you don’t have to fill up the entire time by yourself. if you tag in and run out of things to say after 30 seconds, ask someone else to tag in to take your place. Most shows people keep tagging in to fill the time.

Here is an example of the Show Structure:

Intro

Devohn/Kate 5-10 minutes

Comic 5 minutes

tag in 2 minutes

Comic 5 minutes

tag in 2 minutes

etc.

Devon announce winner(s)/close show 5 minutes

That’s it! That’s the gist of the show and everything else is gravy. Feel free to read further if you want or need to waste time while trying to write a new 5.

What is Tagging In?

You know when you are sitting at an open mic and you watch someone who you enjoy and you start to think about other jokes or tags that would work well in their new bit? And then when you go over to tell them it sounds stupid or they cut you off with a “Don’t tell me what to do!” in a Jan Brady voice? The tag in lets you go up and perform what you think “would be funny if they said this here like this”. The best tags literally reference the 1st comic’s set and are written or performed FOR the first comic. If it helps to try and sound and act like the first comic, do what you have to do.

Don’t avoid letting people tag in after you perform your 5 minutes because there is no reason to be on this show for points.

Result

During the show, the comics are sitting in the show room with the audience. The MCs and comics are usually bantering with each other between sets and are very supportive of each other because it can be kind of nerve wracking to just blurt out an untested 5 minutes. During the tags, comics build on a set to make it funnier or more complex. While it seems chaotic to us, the audience sees comics “writing sets live” and helping each other.  (HINT: The less comics care about points and want to write for each other, the more points are awarded to more people (not that it matters)).

FAQs

Q. Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s all this shit about scoring points?

A. Oh yeah, we keep score so that everyone stays alert and invested and so we can make fun of you for not following our rules. Don’t worry about it, dummy, but here’s a breakout of points:

Finish your 5 minutes = 1 point

Comic(s) tag in on your set and successfully perform 2 minutes = 5 points

Participating in a tag in = 5 points

Tagging in with material not related to 1st comic’s set = -5 points

Q. What happens if I do not finish my 5 minutes?

A. The hosts will make fun of you kind of. If you finish under 5 minutes, the time is added on to the tag in portion and more time is given to comics who want to jump and perform until the full 7 minutes are completed.

Q. Wait, points though?

A. We keep track of them on a wall in a cave somewhere in the Badlands. You can also get points from audience members who tweet at @fbleats. We use the tracker when promoting the show and it gives us something to talk about on stage throughout the show.

Q. So, I could lose points if someone tags in and they suck?

A. *sigh*…no.

Q. What if I go over my time (either my fine minutes or go over the 2 minutes during a tag in)?

A. There will be a light or sound effect thing if the clock doesn’t work.

Q. What if an audience member wants to tag in?

A. Not allowed and the hosts will tell them that.

Q. Can a comic who is not booked on the show tag in?

A. Generally, no. We can take this on a case by case if we are short a performer but it has not worked well in the past.

Q. Is one of those social justice warrior cry baby safe space shows?

A. Yes. That’s who seems to like and support our show so don’t fuck it up.

Q. But how do I lose points?

A. The most common way to lose points is if you tag in and do not do material based on the first comic’s set. Another is to do old material. Sometimes comics get nervous and a little mouthy which is understandable but points will be deducted if you are a douche or turn into a one-man-bachelorette-party.

Q. Can I write about more than one thing for my 5 minutes? What are the restrictions?

A. Your 5 minutes are your 5 minutes so don’t feel restricted to one topic. No restrictions on format if they can be accommodated (like music cues, lighting etc. - just let us know in advance.)

Q. What if my new stuff sucks?

A. Do what you would do at any show and get through it. The good news is that the other comics will help turn the ship around with their tags.

Q. What if the same stage hog keeps jumping up to tag in/ What if I am the only person tagging in?

A. Devohn and Kate (especially Kate) are freakishly empathic and adept at directing energy flow in closed socially engineered environments. It will be fine.

[merrybrides]

Everything You Need To Know About Fall Weddings

Cooler temps, cozy scarves, and pumpkin spice everything. If we're speaking your language, a fall wedding may be right up your alley.

But, before you fall in love with a fall wedding, read our guide to discover what's in season, what's in vogue, and what to take into consideration.

The Skinny on Autumn Weather

Autumn is known for being a bit more brisk than the preceding summer months; however, depending on where you live, you may experience warmer-than-average weather. In the U.S., average autumn temperatures range from 72° in sunny Florida to a chilly 27° in Alaska.

In Arizona, October is the ideal time of year to have an outdoor wedding. Not too hot and not too cold.

Host your autumnal affair in Massachusetts and you'll get the quintessential fall fête with chillier temps and changing leaves.

While summer months in San Francisco are a bit foggy, autumn clears up the skies and you can enjoy an Indian summer wedding in November.

So, again, if you're planning a wedding during this season, remember that the weather varies greatly based on which part of the country you're in.

Whatever your wedding date may be, it's always a good idea to keep an eye on weather predictions, and inform your guests if they should bring a sweater, jacket, etc. And if your autumn event is going to be outdoors, have a contingency plan in place just in case.

Fall Holidays

Another reason to love fall? It's the start of the holiday season! From Halloween to Thanksgiving, there's no shortage of reasons to celebrate during this time of year. (Do Black Friday and Cyber Monday count as holidays? No?)

Whether you host your wedding on a holiday weekend is up to you, but in general it's a good idea to steer clear of major holidays such as Thanksgiving. That said, it could be fun to have your wedding on, say, Veteran's Day weekend when some of your guests may have the following Monday off work.

Fall is also the start of football season, with NFL games on Sundays and college football on Saturdays. If you have a diehard Bama fan in your wedding party, they'd be mighty disappointed if your big day was the same day as the big game. Why not get creative by incorporating football into your wedding? Putting your favorite team's logo on your wedding desserts or naming a signature cocktail after them is a good way to get your team spirit on.

Fall Wedding Pros & Cons

There are tons of advantages to getting married in the fall:

Gorgeous foliage

Typically temperate weather

Lots of seasonally-inspired décor

Possible off-season discounts to take advantage of

Plus, because peak wedding season is waning in most parts of the country, it may be easier for you to book your venue on a specific date or get your first choice of vendors.

However, there are some disadvantages to be aware of:

As we've mentioned, autumn weather can be variable, not to mention even cold, rainy, or snowy on the East Coast!

Fall holidays can cause potential date conflicts

Daylight Savings Time ends, which means some states will experience a really early sunset (and that could affect the timing of your wedding ceremony and photos!)

Be sure to check with your photographer about the earlier sunset's infamous "golden hour." This is the prime time to take outdoor wedding photos, and it's worth planning your ceremony around.

Autumn Color Palette

Do a Google image search for "Fall Weddings" and you'll no doubt see tons of deep reds, oranges, and browns. Although this color palette mimics the changing of the leaves and provides natural warmth to any style of décor, don't be boxed in by the "fall foliage" feel!

Wanna get a bit more modern with your fall color palette? Consider using gold or copper for a bit of glitz and glam, deep plum and emerald green for elegance, or neutral shades like champagne, cream, and slate gray.

Bridesmaids and Groomsmen

If your wedding location is in a cooler climate, you may want to pick a heavier fabric for your bridesmaid dresses or have your entourage wear boleros or pashminas to keep the chill at bay. Deep jewel tones, glimmering metallics, and long-sleeved bridesmaid dresses are all lovely options for autumn attire.

The groomsmen can get creative with their fall wardrobe, too! How about argyle socks or plaid ties? Smart navy or gray suits are a sophisticated choice with these bold accessories.

Working With What's In Season

When you buy what's in season, you get food and flowers at the peak of their supply when costs are normally lower. Plus, when they're locally grown they don't need to be shipped halfway around the globe. So not only do you save money, but you also reduce your carbon footprint. Win-win.

—Fall Wedding Food—

The fall harvest boasts some comforting eats. In-season vegetables include root veggies like turnips and rutabagas, along with all sorts of squash, pumpkin, and sweet potatoes. How does a steaming bowl of butternut squash soup sound for a starter?

Colorful fruits like apples, cranberries, pears, and pomegranates are also available in abundance. Besides incorporating these fruits into your menu, consider decorating your cake with them, or giving some of these edible beauties as wedding favors.

Fall Wedding Flowers

While many flowers bloom year-round, there are some in-season fall flowers that are pure wedding perfection:

Dahlias are absolutely gorgeous in a wedding bouquet, and deep burgundy dahlias are especially beautiful in the fall.

Garden roses are the perfect alternative to peonies this time of year.

Anemones, with their striking black centers, are a sophisticated addition to a bouquet.

Marigolds come in festive fall colors of gold, orange, and red.

Sunflowers add a touch of sunshine to any fall affair.

Protea is an unexpected addition to a super-unique bridal bouquet.

We love the idea of using autumnal foliage, seasonal berries, or even acorns as part of your floral arrangements or table décor. You may also want to check out in-season fillers such as scabiosa pods, which lend a modern yet rustic touch.

Fall Catering Trends

The biggest trend in fall wedding food? Comfort Cuisine. Both sweet and savory.

We've noticed that caterers get pretty creative with fall wedding menus. How about beginning the meal with a creamy soup in a hollowed-out mini pumpkin? A harvest salad featuring roasted butternut squash, dried cranberries, and goat cheese would make an excellent next course. We've even seen full-on Thanksgiving-esque wedding buffets with all the fixings—from turkey and stuffing to mashed potatoes and gravy.

For dessert, you may want to consider a hot cocoa or coffee bar with cinnamon-sugar donuts, mulled apple cider with cinnamon stick stirrers, or a dessert table with seasonal fruit pies.

And anything pumpkin. Obviously.

Fall Wedding Cake Trends

Fall wedding cakes are taking on a more rustic style, with drizzles of ganache or caramel, "rough" buttercream icing, or no icing at all! Naked cakes are completely devoid of outside icing, and look stunning decorated with fall fruits, such as figs.

Seasonal flavors include apple spice cake, gingerbread, or, you guessed it, pumpkin spice cake. Red velvet would also be a lovely choice to complement a deep red color palette.

Autumn-Inspired Wedding Favors

Edible wedding favors are always in good taste (sorry, couldn't resist!), and fall is the best time of year to jump on this trend. In-season fruits like pomegranates lend a pop of color to each place setting, while candied apples would delight any guest. Cute bottles of maple syrup or local honey perfectly fit the season. Mini donuts or pie-on-a-stick are surefire hits, and DIY s'mores packages or mix-your-own hot chocolate cones are a sweet treat for guests to take home.

[acidicbaby]

I firmly believe that the window washing business has a tremendous amount of advantages over other businesses.

I've been in a number of businesses as many of you probably have, and when making the comparisons between window washing and some of the other lame businesses out there, you have to admit that window washing comes up smelling like roses.

BUT...us window washers will still face challenges.

And I'm not talking about the challenge of cleaning a window. Anybody can get a window clean with a little elbow grease and the proper tools.

No, I'm referring to the ability to clean windows and market your business at the same time. This is the ultimate juggling act.

If you stop marketing your business for any length of time, it's only a matter of time before calls from interested prospects dry up, and consequently, so does your calender.

I saw it happen very recently with a guy who had a good 3 weeks of window cleaning jobs lined up. He used every marketing technique outlined in my manual How to Start Your Own Residential Window Washing Business. He lined up all kinds of jobs. But then he decided to focus his attention only to window cleaning, not to marketing. Oops.

To make a long story short, after that 3 week spurt of business, he woke up one day to find no customers on his calender, so he essentially had to start over. Now of course, he'll have those customers to come back to again and again on a repeat basis, but I'm talking about right now having gaps on the schedule which really shouldn't be there.

And it's harder and more time consuming to start over then it is to just keep the gravy train rolling.

Let me explain with a couple of stories.

--Master motivator Zig Zigler talked about "starting over" in one of his speeches I heard recently. He used the analogy of one of those old fashioned Wells you may be familiar with.

These types of Wells have big 'ole handles you need to crank in order to draw water from the Well.

When first wanting water, you have to really pump fast and furious. But once you have a constant stream of water coming out, then it just takes a little pressure on the pump handle to keep it going. The hard work was already done at the beginning. BUT...don't stop. Because the water will go all the way to the bottom if you do, and you'd have to start all over again with serious pumping action.

--The people who I've helped get into the window washing business have heard me talk about when I was in the Insurance business. One of the things I used to do at the beginning of my insurance career was actually shut down my marketing efforts during Thanksgiving week and not crank it up again until after the last college football bowl game was played at the beginning of January.

I just sat around for six or seven weeks or so getting fat on all the Holiday goodies, and alhough it was great just kicking back on my little mini-vacation, come the beginning of January, I had to start all over again generating interest, making phone calls, following up, setting appointments, etc.

Which means that I didn't see the fruits of January's labor until March or so as far as having a full calender of appointments again and banking commissions.

I mention the above couple of stories just to illustrate a point, and that is simply that we can't back off or let up. Because if we do, we could find ourselves with some unwanted vacancies on our schedule. And this is especially true if you're relatively new to the window cleaning biz.

But that's the challenge. Like the person above who had 3 weeks of window washing jobs. How in the world do you wash windows and still market your biz?

The short answer to this is that we need to learn to prioritize and incorporate effective time management principles.

I know, I know. Pretty elementary stuff here, but it really is critical to master them.

One of my most successful students is a guy that plans his entire day around a 2 hour marketing window where he'll distribute flyers, coordinate a postcard campaign, talk to other service businesses, talk to realtors, talk to property managers, talk to builders, visit commercial storefronts, or any number of other things on the marketing agenda.

Time doesn't permit everything above to be done within that two hour time frame obviously, but he'll pick one, maybe two strategies he wants to use that day, and then do 'em.

The 2 hours may be at the beginning of the day or the end of the day, or it may be one hour in the morning and one hour in the afternoon. That doesn't matter. What does matter is that he'll take ACTION and expose his marketing message for 2 hours each day to prospects.

Mike truly understands that we have no business without customers, so he sits down at night and jots down the next day's marketing goals on a "to do" list. This is as basic as it gets, but hey...it works.

And this is confirmed when he calls and we talk about the fact that prospects are calling (many times as we're talking, we'll be interrupted a couple of times by his phone ringing) and his calender is filled up with window washing jobs.

By doing this, and committing to it on paper, the challenge of finding prospects is null and void. Like my 'ole sales manager used to say, "if you talk to enough people, you've got to make sales".

In my case, I used to take one whole day and part of another to do what Mike does every day.

I generally preferred to do my window washing estimating on Friday, and Friday morning was when my business breakfast was held where business owners got together and supported each other with leads and referrals.

Since I figured I was already dressed up in nice company clothes (polo shirt/dockers) instead of my window washing work clothes, I figured I may as well make that my main marketing day, so I mapped out a schedule on Thursday night of who to see and talk to on Friday in addition to the estimates I was scheduled to do.

That doesn't mean I didn't do any marketing during the week. Postcards were a big part of my biz, so if I was ready for a mailing, there was always time during the week to place a 5 minute phone call to my direct mail house and tell Dick to send out a mailing to zone such and such.

And Saturday morning was pretty much reserved for me to go out with 2 to 4 neighborhood kids and blanket subdivisions with flyers.

As an example of what you could do, if you're scheduling a job, schedule it at 10 or 11 and then head out at 9:00 to:

--introduce yourself to 5 realtors and give them your business card. --quickly drop off 25 flyers to commercial storefronts. In/out/next. --visit 3 other service businesses to see if they would be interested in getting together to promote each of your businesses. (I know of one guy who formed his own leads type of organization since there were none in his town)

And then the next day, jot down other things you can do, or repeat the above. At the end of the week, you'll not only feel like you accomplished something, but more importantly, you'll be creating tremendous awareness for your company, which of course, leads to more phone calls, more business, and more moolah in your pocket!

The above is not hard, and when looked at daily, they're just little things, but it's the little things you do every single day that will determine your ultimate success, not the one big thing that we might do every 2 or 3 weeks.

Now the good news is that over time, we can all drastically decrease our marketing "to do" lists.

The first two years of my business was hustle, bustle, hustle bustle. Every form of marketing that could be used was used. After about two years though, guess what? The pump was primed hard enough during the early stages, I then just had to apply a tiny bit of continuous marketing (it never can stop completely), kick back, get the phone calls, fill up the calender, and coordinate my window washing crews. All the fun stuff.

Just remember that this is a marathon, not a sprint. An initial burst of massive action is excellent because it generates immediate dollars and gets you entrenched into the biz, but mark- eting needs to be sustained over time if you're looking for long term success.

Experts have said that once we do something for 21 days, it becomes a habit. I don't know about the 21 days part, but I do know if we do something long enough, it'll simply become second nature to us.

So...there are many challenging pieces to the window washing business. Prioritize the implementation of those pieces by creating yourself a simple "to do" list (Hint-place marketing at the top), incorporate time management into making that list work, and repeat on a regular basis.

Lather

Rinse

Repeat

If you do that, then the snowball of window washing customers that I refer to in my manual will gather up speed. And when that starts to happen, you may as well get out of the way because there ain't nothing you can do to stop it. :o)

To your window washing success,

Steve

256-546-2446

Steve Wright is the author of How to Start Your Own Residential Window Washing Business, and has started hundreds of individuals on the path to success in their own window washing business. Mr. Wright has also developed a revolutionary online web-based system called The Customer Factor to assist all window washing business owners in maintaining and growing a successful business. Using both of these resources provides the one-two punch needed to catapult anyone from zero to six figures per year in the window washing business. For more information, give Mr. Wright a call at 256-546-2446 or visit either of the websites posted.

Article Source: https://EzineArticles.com/expert/Steve_Wright/6268

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