#feeling desperate to have pens hockey back today

[sportsthoughts]

Day 138 of offseason gifs - In The Room S06E08 - celebrating the 2017 Stanley Cup

[cicissketchbook]

Y’all wanna read my Apritello story?

So sometimes when my artistic drive is down, the writing bug will come bite me. I’ve been working on an Apritello story for awhile that currently has three chapters that are up on my Patreon. Eventually I’ll post it publicly, but I want my patrons to have early access. Anyway here’s an excerpt from the first chapter.

It’s kind of angsty.

The summary is, April invites Donnie to join her for a long weekend at the farmhouse, which sounds romantic until you consider that she’s been plagued with visions of his accidental death and is desperate to stop it from happening.

To say there was tension in the air was a drastic understatement. Truthfully, things had been tense for a while. Blame it on cabin fever, or perhaps they were outgrowing their sewer lair, but the brothers had been quick to jump down each other’s throats. 

Leo was especially on edge, and not unlike how it had been since they were kids, his mood had set the tone for everyone else. One thing that differed from childhood though, was that he had been butting heads with Donnie, while Raph remained a mostly neutral third party. 

There was the knowledge that they were getting older and they all had desires to get out there and live their own lives, and then the realization that doing so wasn’t really possible for them in the world they lived in. They wanted what any young adults would want, but they were mutants.  The world still saw them as freaks. They couldn’t lead normal lives the way they wanted to. They knew this, they had known this all their lives. They had all been on the same page about it. They realized that living their lives in the sewer, at least most of it, was probably in the cards. April had always contested this idea, believing that the world would accept them in time. It’s not like people didn’t know mutants existed, but the turtles weren’t willing to take the risk. It’s not like they couldn’t go out and do things like they always had, but leaving the nest for good just wasn’t feasible. And they were content with this. The sewer was all they’d ever known. They’d always been together and they were happy to always be together. 

But like all families, arguments were inevitable. Familiarity breeds contempt, after all. And they were accustom to bickering. But… it was different now. Leo seemed ready to explode at the drop of a pen, Raph never seemed to be able to find enough alone time, Donnie felt like he brought more to the table than the other three combined, and Mikey… sweet Mikey was such an incurable optimist that he sought to find the positive in every situation, but they knew he did this to mask his depression.  

If asked what they were arguing about today, the simple answer would be that they were all just getting on each other’s nerves. Donnie couldn’t even remember how the argument started because they fought about trivial things so frequently, but he remembered the thing that Leo said that set him off.

“God, why is it so hard for you to just do your part? Why do we have to pick up your slack?”

Donnie was silent for a moment, almost unsure he’d heard correctly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you never fucking help out with anything!” Leo’s tone implied that there was something else he was upset about that he wasn’t speaking of. 

Donnie, by his best effort, kept his voice calm and composed. “I’m sorry, are you referring to three days ago when I didn’t help clean up the disaster in the kitchen because I was literally putting the microwave back together? Or perhaps last week when you left a mess for me to clean up that you all made while I wasn’t even here? And then you got mad when I didn’t?”

Leo seemed to get more aggravated at the mention of Donnie not being there, but continued on. “C’mon man, there are four of us that live here, it’s really not asking too much for everyone to help clean up around here.” 

“Dude, I clean up after myself more than anyone. The difference is, when I make a mess, it’s in my lab rather than communal space and-“

“Oh, right, I forgot. The huge space you have that’s your’s. That none of us have.” Leo turned to their other brothers who sat near by. “Hey Raph, other than your tiny bedroom, do you have your own creative space that you can do whatever you want in? Mikey, how about you?”

Raph hadn’t spoken, but seemed invested in the exchange his brothers were having. It was impossible to tell who’s side he was on. Before Mikey could speak, Raph stopped him and said firmly, “Leave us out of this, man.”

“So now your mad at me… because of my lab?”

Leo paused, not making eye contact, before he huffed. “No.” He admitted quietly.

Normally, Donnie was used to these arguments making little or no sense, but Leo seemed genuinely angry and he couldn’t understand why. 

“Bro, what is up?” He demanded. “Why are you actually so upset?”

“I just…” Leo started. Donnie could tell there was something he didn’t want to say. Leo crossed his arms and turned away from his brother. “I just want to know… where your priorities are.”

“My priorities?” Donnie was trying not to lose his patience. He had no idea where this was coming from nor where it was going. Which meant one of two things. Either there was something his brother wasn’t telling him, or this was in fact going no where. Like, this had started out a fight about cleaning duties, and now he’s talking about priorities. If Leo did have a point, he wanted him to hurry up and make it because this argument seemed like a waste of time.

“It just…” Leo blew another huff through his nose. “It just seems like… you are… distancing yourself from us, Donnie.”

This statement completely threw Don for a loop. He hadn’t expected that at all. “What in the world are you talking about?” He asked, truly bewildered by the turn in conversation. “Because I don’t want to clean up messes that aren’t mine? Like what the hell-?”

“No, obviously it’s not that. It’s alot of things.” Leo spoke quieter now, not as impassioned. 

“Well, I would love to know what those things are, because I am completely lost here.”

“You never want to hang out with us anymore, and when you do, you act like you’d rather be doing anything else-“

Donnie cut him off with a humorless chuckle. “We’re brothers, we all get on each other’s nerves.” 

“And I get that, but we do all still live together and we all need to contribute to the household chores, and you’ve just been acting like you are so far above doing any type of housework that doesn’t directly effect you.”

“Well, excuse me Leo, sorry if when it rains and the power get knocked out and I have to go topside by myself in the cold pouring rain to fix the power line, I don’t also want to have to mop up the leak in the kitchen when none of you did anything to help!”

“Okay, you keep bring up specific instances, but I’m talking about in general-“

“No, you’re talking alot of nonsense is what you’re doing!” Donnie’s lack of patience was starting to show. “First you’re mad that you think I don’t clean enough, then you’re mad that I have a lab and you don’t? Then you say I’m distancing myself from you all…?” Donnie stood and made a move like he was going to walk away. “If you have something to say, Leo, you better just say it because this whole conversation seems like a waste of time to me. It’s late and I’m tired, so make your point, or I’m going to bed.”

“Are you distancing yourself from us because of April?”

Donnie had already started walking away, as he didn’t expect Leo to actually have a point, so he was halted to a standstill at his words. “What does she have to do with anything?”

Leo looked away again, like he didn’t actually want to have this conversation. After a moment, he sighed and continued without making eye contact. “It just seems like… I mean… I thought we were all on the same page here. We’ve had this discussion, a long time ago. We aren’t…. Human. We’re getting older and it makes sense that we’d want to start living our own lives, but… we can’t. Not really. The world doesn’t accept us, so staying down here is just how it has to be. I thought we had agreed on that. That no matter what the world thought of us, no matter that we can’t lead normal lives, at least we all had each other. But… now it seems like you have other plans, Donnie.”

He finally looked at his brother and Donnie could see the emotions in his eyes. Nothing of what he said had been new information, of course. Donnie knew, painfully well, that the world saw them as freaks and being “normal” was not a luxury they’d ever be able to have. Alot of their friends were at the point where they were starting to branch off, which didn’t help. Karai and Shinigami were currently back in Japan. It was just a visit, but the kind of visit that lasted for a month or two. Casey had gotten a hockey scholarship for a different school than the one April attended. He was trying to go pro, so he poured all his time and attention into practicing. He still came around, but not like he used to. Mona Lisa had left Earth awhile ago, also with promise to return, but they hadn’t heard from her in a few weeks. They were sure it was just a new mission she had, but that didn’t make Raph feel any better. April was the only one who still came around all the time. With most of their enemies gone, everyone was moving on and it felt like the world didn’t need them anymore. 

The pain in Leo’s voice would’ve normal made Donnie want to hug him, but it was the accusation that he couldn’t get over.

“Leo…” He gestured non threateningly with his hands. “Why are you acting like I’m not literally living down here in the sewers right along with you? And I still don’t see what April has to do with anything-” 

“Okay, I’m going to jump in here.” Raph said unexpectedly. “Look, Dude, I know we don’t… we don’t say it enough but… we would be up schitts creek without a paddle without you.” He crossed the room to give Leo a lighthearted punch in the arm. “Wouldn’t we, Leo?”

“…Yeah.”

“So because of that, the idea of you leaving is…. It’s scary.” Raph admitted. He was going to say something else, but Donnie interrupted.

“I’m not going anywhere! What in the actually hell are you guys talking about?!”

Leo rolled his eyes, apparently getting annoyed again. “Don, can we please stop pretending like you’re not going to marry April and then move in with her?”

Donnie froze. To say they touched a nerve was an understatement. April was his best friend, but truthfully, it was very painful to be her friend sometimes. His feelings for her were still just as intense as ever, but for different reason now. In his youth, he’d maintained a kind of innocent hopefulness that they would someday be together, and he never even really thought of the details of how. He knew, even back then, that it wasn’t that simple and when he really thought about it, nothing about it made sense. Which is why he didn’t think about it. Now though, after some soul searching and dropping into a deep depression which he was starting to get better from, he’d resigned himself to the reality that she would never be with him. He’d accepted it, and told himself that it was enough to just be her friend. But the truth was, that pain never went away.  They had such a close friendship, they had developed such a level of comfort with each other, but he knew it would never be enough. The idea of never seeing her again was unbearable, but to be so close to her, knowing that it was as close as he would ever get… it was torture. He didn’t care though, he just couldn’t let her go.

What really hurt was when she would talk about the next stage in her life. She was in school now, but with her grades and what she was studying, she could go anywhere. She wanted to travel, she spoke of it often. She never made any committal remarks about moving away, other than when she talked about the farmhouse and saying how expensive it is to live in the city. Her dad had signed the property over to her for tax reasons, and she would’ve inherited it anyway. She wanted to renovate it.

He was only vaguely aware that Raph and Leo were still talking.

“It’s not like we’re mad at you for finding love, that’s not it at all!” Raph was saying, obviously more concerned than Leo about ruffling his brother’s feathers. “It’s just, we need to be realistic about what would happen if you weren’t here.”

“Yeah, and the reality is, frankly, I think we all feel left behind by our friends, but we didn’t think  our clan would be breaking up as well!” Leo threw his hands up, finally letting his true feelings out. “I mean, all we have is each other, we’re the last of the Hamato clan! I can’t let this clan die, I just can’t.”

“Why do you guys feel the need to do that?” 

They stopped, taken aback by how low and serious Donnie’s voice was. He was done barking, he looked ready to bite. 

“Do what?”

Donnie’s chest felt tight and he had to taken in a sharp breath through his nose to keep his cool. “Why do you guys feel the need to not only remind me of my unrequited feelings for my… our  best friend… but now, you’re holding it against me?”

Raph looked concerned at first, but then sighed. “Donnie, c’mon, don’t act like you wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to get out of here. April isn’t going to stay in New York forever.” 

The statement, while probably true, hurt to hear. “What does that have to do with me?” He said, quieter this time. “I can’t help what April does.”  

“Dude, she is literally planning her future with you in it. Have you not noticed that?” Leo nearly screamed. “You have the opportunity to get out of here and do something with your life, and we’ll be-“

“No she’s not!” Donnie shouted back. “Are you guys smoking crack or something? Don’t say that shit to me! April doesn’t…” He paused, his words getting caught in his throat. “April doesn’t want me. I thought we’d been over this.”

Mikey, who hadn’t yet spoke, immediately picked up on how much pain Donnie was in. “Hey guys, let’s just drop it, yeah?”

Leo pressed on as if his youngest brother hadn’t spoken. “Maybe she didn’t five years ago, but she sure as shit does now.” He didn’t seem bothered by Donnie visible cringe. “I mean, dude, you’ve spent the night, alone at her house.”

“So has Mikey. And Raph once, I think.” Donnie said quietly, and Raph nodded in confirmation. “And she’s spent the night here a billion times, that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Mikey and Raph didn’t sleep in her bed.” Leo said accusingly. 

“I did.”  

They all paused and turned to the youngest brother. Raph spoke. “You did?”

“Every time I go over there, I sleep in her bed.” Mikey said matter-o-factly. “Whenever… whenever I’m sad, she let’s me come over and… she’ll listen. She doesn’t try to offer solutions, she doesn’t try and tell me things to make me feel better, she just… listens. And that’s what helps me the most. Then we watch funny videos.”

None of them commented at first. They all knew Mikey struggled with depression, but he rarely, if ever, talked about it. They all had told him at some point that they were there if he needed to talk, but he never came to any of them. One might of thought that hearing that his brother shared a bed with April might make Donnie jealous, but quite the opposite, it made him very happy and appreciative to hear about it. It made sense that Mikey would be more comfortable talking to April than to any of them, and to know that she had been there for him was comforting. Donnie wanted that for his brother. 

“See?” He said finally, more to Leo than anyone else. “April… she’s there for all of us. She cares about all of us… I’m not special.”

“Donnie, don’t say that.” Mikey offered and rose from his seat to place a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Donnie placed his own hand over Mikey’s and squeezed it, staring at the floor.  “She cares about you the most. More than you know.”

“Mikey, please, please don’t.” He said through his teeth. “I can’t… I can’t even believe we’re having this conversation right now. You know how long it took me to accept the fact that I was kidding myself by thinking there could ever be something between us? Of course you guys know, which is why it is so baffling to me that you feel the need to do this.” 

“So if April wanted you to move away with her, you wouldn’t do it?” 

Raph punched Leo in the arm again. It was a strange thing, to see Raph scold Leo for being insensitive. Donnie had had enough though.

“I’m out of here.” He turned on his heel and heading towards the turnstiles. 

...............

Yes, it’s NSFW, of course it is.

[morkleemelon]

off the ice || chapter 2: heading in

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing:  college hockey player! mark x college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, sports au, college au

warnings: swearing

word count: 7k

copyright morkleemelon all rights reserved

"And we can see here in the figure that the data currently suggests-"

Your pen flies across the notebook page, desperately trying to capture everything your economics professor said in multicolor vigor. Jotting down the figure frantically, your eyes dart back and forth between the powerpoint screen and your paper, high ponytail bouncing up and down from the motion.

Being on scholarship means that you can never let your grades fall past a certain point or else they'd give the money to someone else. As harsh as it is, without the financial aid, you would not be able to continue to go to school. One of the only things that motivates you to work harder than your sleeping peers, sometimes, is the looming fear of becoming a jobless dropout, never able to achieve your dreams. 

In a lot of ways, not having money is already bad enough, but the thought of not even being able to earn it in the future is even worse.

"Does anyone know how this company should manage production costs?," your professor asks the crowd of tired students.

You immediately shoot your hand in the air. You know it. This answer was in the textbook reading last night it's-

"Yes" Your professor points behind you.

You slowly set your hand down, disappointed, turning around to see who could've raised their hand before you did.

"They should modernize their marketing efforts with more affordable tools and focus on reducing supply costs," the boy answers expertly.

That's exactly what I was going to say.

Examining his face a little more, something about him seems a little familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on it. Looking around at who he was sitting with, you begin to piece it together.

"He must be one of the Lee's if he's sitting between Ten and Jeno" you ponder to yourself, taking one final look at the boy, "is he... Haechan?". Thinking back to last spring, one of your teammates had a huge crush on the one called 'Haechan'. She always gushed about his fluffy brown hair, handsome face, and how he asked to borrow her biology notes once. You weren't exactly well versed with the university's popular people and honestly, the fact that this school has an 'F4' called "the Lees" is pretty funny to you.

This boy's hair is blonde, though, brushed down into a fringe and slightly messy from, you're assuming, taking off the hood of his sweatshirt before class. Glancing down, you take notice of the mess of white bandages wrapped around his knuckles.

Right, they just had a hockey game. He doesn't have brown hair so this must be-

"That's exactly right, Mark. Nicely done" the professor praises.

Mark. You note the name to yourself, turning back to the board as the professor continues with the lecture.

"Dude she's looking at you," Ten whisper-yells to his younger friend, nudging him sharply in the ribs.

Mark doesn't dare look down at you yet, already feeling his cheeks grow warmer with each passing second. He feels your gaze pull away from him and finally frees the breath he was previously holding captive. Shoving back at the senior boy, his gaze flutters back to you like it usually does during this class, however much to his strong denial. 

You always sit in the first row, colored pens and highlighters arranged neatly upon your favorite desk. 

Mark watches the way your hair bobs back and forth as you move your head with keen eyes. The delicate gold glint of a necklace clasp at the nape of your neck fascinates the junior boy's attention more than the mundane lecture ever could.

Spotting the slight smile on the older boy's face and the direction of his gaze, Jeno laughs quietly to himself, happy that something interesting is finally happening during the boring lesson. Leaning over behind Mark's back, he gives Ten a silent high five.

"You're a simp" Jeno whispers in Mark's ear, eager to provoke him. Mark slaps the blue-haired boy's face away.

"Fuck off," Mark whispers harshly back as Jeno and Ten laugh to themselves in the lecture hall. He habitually glances back to your focused form. And this is nothing short of how class usually goes for them: Mark fawns over you 'secretly' whilst you haven't the slightest clue. On either side, his friends tease him endlessly for it.

"Yuna and I are planning something for you guys," Ten persists.

Mark's eyebrows scrunch in confusion at the older's ominous words. The professor's voice drones on in the background as his attention shifts to Ten.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it, man". Ten smirks, smacking a firm hand on the confused boy's shoulder.

"Don't do anything weird," Mark warns, recalling the time when the senior had planned on starting a fist fight outside of your dorm building last semester in hopes to gain your attention and provide an excuse for Mark to talk to you. Although the thought was there, no it wasn't.

The hour ticks by and exhausted students groan in relief as the professor wraps up the stale lesson on fundamental economics. A mass shuffle of notebook pages flipping closed and backpacks zipping up fills the hall as students make their way out, eager to do anything but be there.

The Lee's always gather for lunch at this time at the basketball courts, attracting an impressive crowd of envious guys and adoring girls at the sidelines. Although the place is fairly beaten down and otherwise unimpressive, the Lee's choose to be there which consequently deems the courts the coolest lunch spot on campus.

Putting his things away into his trusty black Jansport bag, Mark gets ready to head down to the courts to meet up with Haechan like they always do until he feels a hand unexpectedly grip his left shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"Some people are gonna join us for lunch today," Ten discloses casually, keeping his gaze forward as the line of students in front of them slowly file their way out of the crowded room.

"Oh, who?" Mark questions. It's not like it's rare for other people come hang out with them, in fact, it's almost always the case. But the fact that Ten is specifically telling him beforehand feels suspicious. Another strong hand grips his other shoulder as Jeno's navy blue hair comes into view.

"Don't worry about it man. You got meal points left for this week? Lend me some," the younger boy expertly diverts.

"Yeah..."

"Let's hurry though, Haechan is probably there waiting already. I told the brat to get food for us early today". Ten ushers Mark forward and pushes his way through the herd of people.

"Aight," Mark sighs in confused defeat, picking up his pace to keep up with the senior. There's definitely something weird going on, but he doesn't have the energy to pry further. 

Then again, has he ever lived a day where his friends aren't doing some sort of weird shit?

"Thank you, professor," you smile and bow politely.

"Thank you, y/n, enjoy the rest of your day," the older man smiles back, waving you off as he packs up his lecture notes. It's small things like this that you always make sure to do to make others' lives a little better.

After all, the best thing to give-better than any monetary gift- is kindness. Right?

Your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your frayed denim shorts and you reach to check the notification.

Der sum hoez in this houz:

Yuna: guys!! Let's grab lunch somewhere new today! :DD

Hope: yassss ;););)

You: oh why? The caf has chicken nuggets today :(

This is definitely suspicious -you, Yuna, and your other friends, Lisa and Hope, always ate together at the round table in the university's better dining hall nicknamed "the caf". It's been your unbroken tradition since freshman year and the lunch lady at the caf even likes you enough to give you extra servings sometimes.

Yuna: we can still have the nuggets but Ten knows a cool place we can sit! He says he already got the food so we don't have to pay today ;)

Free food?

Your inner Mr.Krabs reveals himself as you perk immediately at the mention of her boyfriend paying for lunch. Neither guilt nor modesty had time to catch up as your thumbs rush to type a speedy reply.

You: I'm there. Where at?

Yuna: I'm coming to your classroom rn! We can walk together

Lisa: Hope and I are coming from bio :) excited

You: lol why does everyone know but me

You: is it gonna be weird with us third wheeling you yuna?

You: if y'all start kissy kissy touchy touchy I might puke just saying

Yuna: HAHAHA XD

Yuna: don't worry some of ten's friends might be there too

Oh. To be honest, you're caught off guard at your best friend's last message. Ten has been over to your shared dorm a few times and you've exchanged enough awkward greetings to call him an acquaintance at least. But generally, his friend group and yours stay separate.

Not that there is any actual beef there, but, no pun intended, nobody's tried to break the ice yet.

Closing the group chat as you reach the entrance of the economics building, you hold a hand up to block the glaring rays of summer sun from your eyes. The sudden brightness harshly contrasts the musty dark of the lecture hall, making you squint in discomfort.

"Y/n!" a familiar voice calls out. A flash of platinum blonde hair and Chanel perfume filled your senses as Yuna throws your smaller body into a crushing, sweaty hug.

"EWw!" you yelp, shoving the taller girl away from you half-playfully, catching the attention of a few concerned passer-bys.

You nod your head at them in a shy apology.

Yuna, seriously.

The guilty party laughs, the musical sound travelling through the humid air like a refreshing breeze. Your best friend sticks out her elbow for you to link your arm through.

Eyeing her with short-lived contempt, your lips break into a smile as you slip your forearm around hers, unable to be actually mad at your best friend.

"Where are we going?" you ask.

"You'll see. It's Ten's spot"

"Hi-his spot?!" You stop in your tracks, wondering why you were going to eat where Ten dealt weed.

Since when did he deal weed though?

"Not that kind of spot!," Yuna cries out, smacking a manicured hand over the top of her forehead as to not ruin her perfect foundation, "he's not like that!".

"Right good," you scoff.

The summer heat swelters as Yuna leads you down campus towards the sports center. It's early September and Seoul is notoriously hot.

Ice cream vendors with big, striped umbrellas litter the streets, calling out for business from sweaty pedestrians who crave a moment of sweet, cold relief. The sky tints a beautiful shade of blue with fluffy wisps of white clouds dotting its never-ending canvas. No matter how hot the weather is, the day is undeniably beautiful.

You don't ask Yuna more about where you're headed, accepting that your best friend likes to be spontaneous and that her boyfriend was paying for your food. This is more than enough for you to follow her down the sketchy alleyway shortcut to the basketball courts. Sometimes you wonder if you'd be really easy to kidnap...

The alley opens up to reveal a worn-out basketball court planted in the middle of a grassy area. Looking around, you noticed there are quite a few people there, most of them unfamiliar to you.

They scatter across the grass in groups, eating and chatting casually amongst their friends atop their patterned picnic blankets. You catch the gaze of a group of girls sitting at the edge of the court; they eye you up and down, taking you aback with their lack of subtlety.

Breaking the awkward eye-contact, you suddenly feel very out of place.

"Hey!" Yuna calls out, slipping her arm out of yours to wave at a group of people sitting at the other side of the court from the judgmental girls.

Her hand slips into yours, snapping you out of your uncomfortable dilemma, pulling you towards the group she waved to. A big willow tree stretches towards the sky and casts a precious spot of shade over the area. Immediately, you spot Hope and Lisa as they wave to you and you let out a breath of relief.

At least I'm not alone, maybe I won't be so awkward now.

You recognize Ten's face and you give him a smile and nod of acknowledgement. Scanning over the rest of the group carefully, you faintly recognize the other boys sitting under the tree.

The boy with the blue hair and the fitted white tee- that's Jeno.

Fluffy brown hair-definitely Haechan.

Your eyes flit to the next boy and you're taken aback when he's already staring at you. His ashy blonde fringe hair, almost grey, seems dearly familiar. His eyes widen before quickly looking away.

He's part of the Lee's... bandaged hands and that hair- that's Mark, the dude who stole your answer from earlier.

The little devil on your shoulder whispers to hold a small grudge. The little angel on the other argues that it was never your question and you shouldn't be so petty. Right, kindness is the best virtue. You will let it go.

You and Yuna reach the edge of their picnic blanket and your best friend immediately goes to sit by Ten who doesn't hesitate to pull her hips smoothly into his lap.

You look away in embarrassment. Good for her for finding love, but by golly are you painfully single.

Eyeing the space on the picnic blanket, Hope and Lisa are almost strategically sitting at the end chatting with Jeno so there is no reasonable way you could sit next to them. Setting down your bag awkwardly, you debate where you should sit, silently cursing at Hope and Lisa for not leaving a space for you. Maybe coming here was a mistake because you feel kind of left out-

"Oh, here," a small voice lets out. You look up to see Mark getting up and moving his stuff out of the way and clearing a space for you next to him.

"Ah, thank you!" You smile, kneeling down to sit in the empty space.

Thank God.

Glancing at his face, a blush even Maybelline would envy rests on his cheeks as his gaze remains glued to the food in his hands.

The first thing you notice is how handsome he is up close. You didn't get a good look at him in the lecture hall, but his face is a perfect mix of feminine and masculine beauty. His eyes are soft and round, but his jawline sharp and angled. The most chiseled cheekbones you've ever seen are handsomely defined under the mosaic of shadows and light created by the branches of the willow tree. A slight, shy smile graced his delicate, pink lips.

He's super cute. I take back everything I thought in lecture.

"Hey, welcome!," a sudden high-pitched voice rips your attention away from ogling the blonde boy. Turning your face, you see Haechan on your other side eagerly holding out a hand for you to shake. You take his hand and he shakes it vigorously, "I'm Haechan nice to meet you! What's your name?".

"I'm y/n," you reply with a smile. He's really outgoing, huh.

"Y/n what year are you?"

"Oh I'm a sophomore this year"

"Ayyy! Jeno and I are sophomores too," the friendly brunette slaps the other boy on the arm, "say hi, Jeno".

"Hey, I'm Jeno". He gives a heart-fluttering eye-smile and you could hear hushed gasps and coos ensue from the onlooking girls across the court.

"Hi, y/n," you respond shyly.

Dang, these guys are all so good-looking.

You always hear about the 'Lees' and their 'godly' visuals, but you never truly paid attention. Yet now that you're sitting with them at their cool-people-only hangout spot, you have no choice but to admit how exactly spot-on those descriptions were.

"Here, y/n" Haechan hands you a paper tray full of chicken nuggets.

"Nice! Thank you," you cheer, taking the food perhaps a little too excitedly. Working out and training nearly everyday means you're inevitably hungry most of the time. Not to mention, your stomach always rumbles at the sight of your all-time favorite food.

Digging into the free food reward, you turn back to Mark who hasn't said anything to you yet.

"What's your name?" you ask. Technically, you already know it, but you don't really know a better way to start a conversation.

Visibly surprised, Mark chokes on his chicken.

You let out a single note of laughter at his unexpected coughing before slapping a hand over your mouth to stop yourself.

"Are you okay?" you ask stupidly.

"Bruh," Haechan teases with a smirk, amused at his best friend's embarrassment.

Mark nods quickly with a hand covering his mouth as he continues coughing. Unsure of what to do, you reach over to pat him on the back firmly.

"Here, dude". Jeno tosses Mark a filled water bottle, the older boy accepting it gratefully, gulping down the water like his life depends on it (which it... actually does).

Gasping in relief as he sets the bottle down, Mark looks back at you with flushed cheeks and wet lips. You realize your hand is still on his back and you quickly snatch your hand away, suddenly flustered by the contact.

"I'm Mark," he finally answers, voice hoarse from the ordeal.

"Hi Mark, I'm y/n" you giggle.

He looks absolutely hilarious with water dribbling down his chin and cheeks as red as fire. There is something intensely endearing about him as he looks down, front teeth biting down on his bottom lip in embarrassment.

"What year are you?," you continue.

"Uh-I'm a Junior"

"Oh nice! What do you study?"

"Uh-business and sports management"

"Wow! Wait you're In Econ31 right?"

"Yeah I am," Mark smiles.

"I thought I recognized you! I'm in that class too," you exclaim. Usually, you aren't terribly sociable with people you just met, but there's something about the softness of his voice that makes him easy to talk to. That and the way he's just choked on a chicken nugget in front of you at your first meeting- you have little to nothing to lose.

"Oh yeah I-I've seen you around sometimes"

"Yeah we've seen you around sometimes," Ten calls out, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. Yuna laughs and hits his chest in warning.

"Shut up!" Mark grabs a nugget from his tray and chucks it at the older boy. Like a slow-motion scene in a movie, Ten catches the piece of chicken between his teeth and flashes a wink back at the flustered junior.

You burst out in laughter at the interaction, slapping a hand onto your knee at the dumbfounded look on Mark's face.

Mark feels his heart clench at the sound of your bright laughter filling the air. You gasp with glee, one hand slapping your knee repeatedly and the other gripping your fork. Truth be told, he is freaking out inside. And this is not how he imagined you would meet. 

All thoughts about Ten abandoned, a wide smile spreads back onto his face as his eyes scan across your laughing form. You sport a casual outfit consisting of a grey t-shirt and denim shorts like you usually do. A simple gold chain hangs from your neck, tucked away under the collar of your shirt. Up close, Mark feels even more drawn to you than ever before.

Beautiful as ever.

"I-I can't breathe," you wheeze, "what just happened?"

"My talent," Ten states, moving his arms from around Yuna's waist to hold them up in a 'well duh' shrug.

"Nah bro, it was a good throw from me," Mark cuts in, holding up a hand to stop the gloating boy.

"Nah bro, it was a good catch from me," Ten sasses back, moving Yuna off his lap to kneel up. You meet Yuna's eyes and you both hold back laughter at the ridiculous argument.

"Nah bro" Mark moves onto his knees as well.

"Nah bro's," Haechan suddenly interjects, "It was me. I have telepathy and I moved the chicken". Haechan promptly stands up and does a body wave, posing with a finger gun pointed over the slope of his nose to his forehead.

You laugh silently between the three boys who are suddenly all standing as they argue over who was responsible for the nugget trick. You had just met these guys a few minutes ago, but you're more confused and intrigued at them than you've ever been with anyone.

Look at you go, making new friends and everything!

"Guys..." Jeno tries, but his low voice isn't nearly loud enough to be heard over the chaos.

The boys point accusing fingers at each other like in a Renaissance painting. You scooch your way over to the other girls to get out of their way, bringing your food with you.

"You're dating..." You gesture your fork at Ten who was is caught in a three-way head lock with Mark and Haechan.

"Yeah". Yuna's face remains expressionless as she nonchalantly pops another piece of chicken into her mouth. After dating Ten for almost five months now, she is well aware of what the expression 'boys will be boys' really means.

"Are they always like this?" Hope asks, bewildered. Lisa just laughs on the side, enjoying the spontaneous fight more than she should. Jeno gives up, laying down to stare at the sky and wonder why his friends are like this.

Click

Your ears perk at  strange noises coming from behind you. Turning around, you notice that several of the girls you saw earlier are now pulling large, fancy cameras out of their book bags. Baffled, you watch incredulously as they shamelessly snap photos of the tussling, oblivious boys.

"What the heck?," you gawk. You haven't been here but twenty minutes and it's already one surprise after the other.

"Tell me about it. Those weirdos are these guys' fans, the 'Lovelees' as they call themselves," Yuna explains, "You would not believe how crazy they can get. Remember when I had to put all my socials on private a few months ago? It's because they found out I was dating Ten".

"Right, I remember that" you nod your head sympathetically. Your eyes move between the unsuspecting boys and the audacious crowd of girls. Maybe you haven't known them for long, but the Lees seem like a regular group of guys. Admittedly, they are above average in the visual department (and in the strange department), but the existence of the Lovelees is really unnerving. Is it just you?

One particular girl at the forefront stares you down intently. Her hair is a mousy brown with two striking streaks of bright red down her bangs in a distasteful take on E-girl style hair. Too-light foundation is packed onto her skin and you winced internally at the severe creasing by her nose. Black eyebrows not matching her hair, her fake eyelashes bat at you threateningly.

"What's up with her?". You are genuinely confused. Why does she look like she wants to murder you?

"She's so scary," Hope's eyebrows knit in worry.

"Yeah, what's with her? She's staring at y/n," Lisa suddenly adds, attention turning to the concerning conversation.

"That's Hillary, the club president or something," Yuna confirms with a shudder, "she's super psycho about Mark. Definitely stay away from her".

"Gotcha... but why is she looking at me like that? Is it just me?"

Hillary's creepy stare never leaves your face and you feel chills run down your spine like a thousand invisible spiders. Generally speaking, you sometimes shy from even ordering food over the phone. Being under her flaming gaze makes you want to shrivel up like a raisin.

If someone could write a story about Seoul University campus life, you'd for sure be a background character. Attracting negative attention to yourself for no reason is surely a new feeling and unequivocally uncomfortable... perhaps because there is any attention on you at all?

"Well for one," Yuna smiles, poking an accusing finger into your side, "you seem to be getting along with these guys pretty well. Especially Mark". The blonde wiggles her perfectly threaded brows at you. Flustered, you shove a nugget in her mouth before she could say more.

"What are you even talking about, we literally just met". You fight to keep your voice steady and expression unaffected, but alas you can't stop the heat from spreading onto your unwilling cheeks. Admittedly, it's been a while since you've gone out with a guy. More honestly, you haven't really dated anyone since you came to campus last year. So needless to say, your single self is a little bit flustered to be thrown into the notion that you even have a chance to be with a super popular, charming guy like Mark.

You shake your head to clear the ridiculous thoughts.

Let's not err on the side of desperation today.

Peering back at the crazy fangirl who you now know as Hillary, you're relieved to find her piercing gaze has shifted from boring holes in your skull to her cell phone and she types away at lightning speed.

"I have a feeling that he likes you, y/n," Yuna presses. Hope and Lisa giggle and nod in agreement, exchanging knowing glances at each other. 

You don't have ample time to ponder more as your attention is ripped away by the fighting boys. They've shifted from the shade of the willow tree to the basketball court, disregarding all onlookers and fighting like their lives depended on it.

"Let's go. Rooftop. Right now!" Haechan screeches, taking a leap at Ten while Mark struggles to hold him back.

"Fight me here, bro," Ten taunts, "we all know I'm built different". The sass in his voice gives Haechan the strength to break away from Mark's grasp and tackle the senior boy. All eyes glue to the two boys rolling around on the hot pavement, screaming.

"Yuna, can you-" Jeno starts, eyes closed as he lay on the blanket listening to his friends beat each other up.

"Yeah," Yuna gives the tired boy an apologetic pat on the knee. "Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul".

Her boyfriend's entire body immediately freezes at the sound of his full name. Letting Haechan go from his chokehold, Ten scurries back over to his spot on the picnic blanket to kneel by an unamused Yuna like a scolded dog. "I'm sorry".

You suppress another laugh. This... this is what the cool kids are like? You were really nervous for nothing. Mark shuffles back next to you, supporting a limping Haechan who insists he's fine.

"Sorry girls. They're not... actually no, they are usually like this," Jeno apologizes, "Hope we didn't scare you away".

"No, actually. I think you guys are really... funny. It's cool how comfortable you all are". You smile at the hockey players. Weird as they may be, you don't feel uncomfortable.

"She thinks you're cool!" Haechan cries, slapping Mark on the back.

"Shut up!" Mark smacks the back of the younger's head, ready for another fight already.

"But don't you guys think it's weird we haven't met earlier? We always see the hockey team around our practices but I think this is our first time officially talking," Hope suddenly points out the elephant in the room.

"Yeah I guess that's true," Haechan ponders, "to be honest, we didn't think you guys liked us very much... or let me rephrase that- we were kinda scared to approach you".

"YOU were scared to approach US," Lisa exclaims in shock, "did you forget that you four are, like, the most popular guys on campus or what?".

The four boys look amongst each other blankly. "No, but we thought...," Haechan starts.

"... that figure skaters hated hockey players," Mark finishes. Silent glances are exchanged between all parties as this new information is revealed.

At the sheer awkwardness of the situation, you decide to interrupt the silence with light laughter. "Why would we hate you?"

"You- agh," Haechan's reasoning is cut off by a sharp jab to the ribs from Mark. No way is he going to let the blabbermouth sophomore spoil that they stalked your Facebook last year and found your post.

"I mean you all seem really cool and," Mark saves, looking at you, "I'm really glad we got to meet you today. But we were just... intimidated before".

You raise an eyebrow and your eyes meet Yuna's, Hope's, and Lisa's who shared similar expressions.

"Babe, I'm intimidating?" Yuna asks her boyfriend, peering into his eyes. Ten promptly places a hand at the back of her neck and brings her in for a deep kiss. Everyone in the group groans in disapproval and you hope the sour expression on your face isn't too obvious. Why, Ten. Why.

"Uh.. ok then," you divert, "I was never a fan of hockey itself, to be frank. The sport, not the team. And maybe I've been annoyed at you guys for hogging the ice sometimes, but I've never ever hated you! Don't worry haha".

"Bro what?!" Haechan cries, "hockey is the greatest sport of all time! It's all about strategy, speed, strength, and skills. If anything, figure skating doesn't have a point".

You gasp in full-offense. Sure, you just gave your honest opinion on their sport and it was only fair that they give theirs, but that one burns. Before you can make your counterargument, the boy next to you beats you to it.

Tapping the back of his hand to Haechan's arm, Mark's next words made your heart skip a beat: "dude, you don't know what you're talking about," he turned to look into your eyes, "it's beautiful".

Mark's eyes are a deep brown color, you notice, and they sparkle gold in the light streaming past the branches of the willow tree. Softly, they peer into yours, bringing with them a rare kindness that pinches at your chest.

"Thank you" you smile at him. Is your face always this warm?

"Okayyy," Jeno finally opts to sit up, "now that we've determined that we don't hate each other and we're all cool, are we good to be friends?". A chorus of "Heck yeah"'s and "duh"'s filled the picnic area and your heart swells with happiness. You look back at Mark and smiled again.

New friends

"You should come eat with us here more often," Mark suggests to you, warm gaze making your heart strain for the hundredth time that afternoon. What is happening? "All of you should," he corrects, looking away shyly.

"Yeah we're here everyday," Ten adds. Looking down to Yuna who had laid her head in his lap, he stroked her hair lovingly. "You should come hang out with us whenever".

"I'd like that," you grin.

"Let's make a group chat. Everyone gimme your numbers," Haechan declares.

While the brunette went around collecting numbers, you chatted with Mark, wanting to get to know him more. You quickly find that he's so very endearing, blushing and fiddling with the bandages on his fingers at your every word. His words are kind and he listens to you thoughtfully when you speak. Talking to him is so easy, surprisingly easy, and you feel the conversation unfold out effortlessly. You hardly notice as the minutes of your lunch break tick to an end.

"That's crazy! There was this one time that-" the jarring sound of your phone alarm cuts you off. Scrambling for your phone, you tap on the screen desperately to shut it off.

"Sorry guys," you apologize, "Lisa, oh my goodness, it's time for us to go to Frankie's".

Lisa checks her own watch and gasps, "Oh gosh! We gotta go guys".

"Who's Frankie?" Mark questions, eyes slightly crestfallen.

"No," you laugh while picking up your bag, "Frankie's. The diner down the street next to the lake. We work there".

Haechan, Ten, and Jeno crack up silently at their sensitive friend. 

"It was nice meeting you all!" you exclaim, "It was nice meeting you, Mark".

"Great meeting you, y/n. Hope to see you around," he waves back at you.

Bidding their goodbyes, you and Lisa make your way down the alley to her parked car.

"Y/n don't you think Mark is super into you?" Lisa says excitedly once the others are out of earshot.

"What are you saying!?" you proclaim, looking back to make sure the Lovelees aren't following you. Seeing the coast is clear, you consider your friend's accusation. So much has happened in the last 2 hours than in your year and a month at college, or your entire life honestly. 

You walked into the alley with no guy friends and are leaving with four. Is it greedy to say that Mark really does stand out to you and you might be starting to like him, or are you just like every other girl who likes him too? The last thing you want is to be like Hillary.

"He's probably just friendly to everyone," you decide.

"No way, y/n, you good in the head? This dude only looking at you the whole time," Lisa retorts.

You shake your head in denial but thinking back, it could be true.

There it is again. That nervous, light feeling in your chest.

Oh, God. What if I like him?

Mark flops down on his bed, still not down from the high that he's been on all day. No, not that kind of high. Smile plastered on his face, he runs his fingers through his freshly washed hair, recounting your conversations from earlier.

"Dude, you look so stupid," Jeno walks into their shared room, shirtless from just getting out of the shower. A simple white towel wrapped around his lean torso is the only thing censoring the spectacular scene. Messing his hair with a second towel, he chucks the wet fabric at Mark's face.

"Fuck off," Mark swings it back at the sophomore. This year, he chose to live in a suit with the rest of the guys to save some money. Him and Jeno shared a room while Ten and Haechan occupied the other. It's undeniably small and only has one bathroom, but he is grateful he at least doesn't have to room with Haechan anymore.

Mark's phone buzzes with a notification on his nightstand. Propping himself up with his elbow, he checks to see who it's from.

1 new message from unknown

Mark sighs. If it's these crazy girls again he's going to get really annoyed. Today was a really good day and the last thing he wants is another stranger asking him to father her children. 

Maybe: Yuna?: hey mark, it's Yuna. I got your number from the group chat! If you're not too busy I'd love to talk to you about a few things

Oh crap.

Suddenly nervous, Mark scrambles to sit up properly.

"Text from your new girlfriend?," Jeno taunts unknowingly.

"No, dickhead, it's Yuna," Mark rebuts, thinking hard about a good, casual reply.

"Oh, shit," Jeno states, taken aback. The sophomore swaggers onto his own bed, now sporting a pair of grey sweatpants and a fitted white t-shirt. The bare minimum makes him look like a poster boy every magazine photographer would clamber for. The man could put all models out of work if he had the heart for it. Fortunately, he only has the heart for hockey, video games, and pizza.

Mark: Hey Yuna! What's up?

Yuna: Hey :) nothing much! Not to freak you out, but I know all about your crush on y/n from Ten

Mark: ahaha... yeah I figured

Yuna: ok, so as her best friend and someone who cares about her a lot I just wanna put a few things out there

Yuna: is typing...

Mark watched as the three dots of the impending message taunted him. What could she be talking about? What if you have a boyfriend and Yuna's telling you to back off?

Yuna: if you're going to get close with her, you gotta make sure you keep her safe from those crazy fangirls. Y/N is a shy and sensitive girl she'll definitely take the hate to heart and if Hillary and those other crazy bitches come after her, I won't let you live

Hillary? Mark wracks his brain for any memory of a girl with that name. That girl from calc? No, that's Helen. Hillary...

An image of a mousy girl with red bangs comes into his mind. Ah yes, that's Hillary. She sends him love tweets and gave him chocolates for Valentine's Day.

Mark: I barely know Hillary and I'm pretty sure I've told her I'm not into her, but i'll make sure she knows. Yuna I'm serious about y/n

Yuna: as you should be! She's a real diamond in the rough and she's never confident in herself. All she does is work and study and practice. She never does anything for herself but she never complains either. Also, I don't wanna butt in too much, but I gotta you ask one thing

Mark: yeah ask away!

Yuna: y/n says today is the first time she met you but Ten says you've "been simping for like a year". Add it up for me?

Mark: It's kind of hard to explain... it like... do you believe in love at first sight?

Yuna: HA!!! You're too cute omg

Mark: It's like that but I never had the chance to talk to her... it never seemed right idk

Yuna: boy

Yuna: I had to force y/n to go to your game with me and Ten had to bribe Haechan to set up the picnic today early

Yuna: not to mention we made Hope and Jeno sit together even though they're both awkward just so y/n would have to sit next to you. you better make ur fucking move now

Mark curls his fingers into his blow-dried hair, letting out a low, stressed groan. He's gonna owe the guys big time.

Mark: I really appreciate it! :)))

Yuna: oh and one more thing

Mark: yeah?

Yuna: If you hurt her, I will gouge out your eyeballs and stick them up your ass and while you cry, I'll force feed you your own severed balls until you choke and die. Got it? :D

Holy fuck.

Mark: understood

Yuna: Yay!!! Approved :) good night mark! Nice getting to know you today!

Mark: same here. Night!

Mark's thumbs shake as he types out his final message. So this is what your friends are like, huh? It's such a contrast to your easy-going attitude. A smile spreads across his lips at the thought of you again.

Stretching up to shut off the lamp on his night stand, Mark tucks himself into bed. It's finally happening. You're here. You're right within his grasp. And he wants nothing more than to give you everything you need.

Mark contemplates Yuna's messages as he lay there in the dark; she said you aren't confident in yourself. This comes as a surprise to him. You're so beautiful, smart, kind, funny, and talented, the last thing he expected was that you didn't know it. You exude put-togetherness and wear elegance like a favorite sweater.

His eyes squeeze shut as Mark replays the first night he saw you in his mind. The image is engraved in his brain as he must have revisited that unintentional performance a thousand times.

This whole time, he never got to know you, but today he dipped his hand in the water. And he wanted so much more, to dive in completely and surround himself with you. All this time, he's only been on the sidelines.

I want her so bad

It's time to stop waiting around and get in the game. He's going to talk to you, walk you to class, make you feel special. So much time has already been wasted due to his own fears and misunderstandings. If it's confidence you need, it's confidence he will give you.

Wait for me, y/n, I'm gonna do it right this time

previous || m.list || next 

[peggyrose19]

Day 19: Soulmates

Jeez formatting this was a bitch. Advent for tonight is a little bit different, because the prompt was an accidental double. So, instead of being a sensible human being and just writing a different one-shot off it again, I decided I should get my O’Knutzy soulmate AU done instead, thinking it’d be fairly simple. Oh how wrong I was. Who knew writing an actual plot and developing a relationship was so hard? Me, but I started it anyway so really I did this to myself. So if it’s complete shit, I apologize in advance. Some day I will go back and edit and add to it. Characters by the always amazing @lumosinlove 

Summary: Finn and Logan were soulmates, and had been since the moment they were born. Both had a journal filled with messages to each other, given to everyone once they turned 18. When Leo turned 18, he opened his journal to discover something rather peculiar. What did one do with two soulmates?

Sorry the summary is shit, I suck at them :) Journal entries are in italics and text messages are in bold because tumblr won’t let me underline. Hope you guys enjoy, leave a comment and I’ll love you forever <3

Leo stared down at the paper in front of him. His mind had gone blank when he’d opened the book. His soulmate journal, given to him today, on his 18th birthday. He had imagined this going hundreds of different ways. It had consumed his every waking thought for the past six months at least, what he would say, how his soulmate would respond, the possibility of words waiting for him already. What he hadn’t imagined was the words from two distinct hands written on the pages. 

He thumbed through the book as word after word flashed by. Conversations flowed between these two people, going back nearly three years, according to the dates on each page. The handwritings were different. One was messy, scrawled, and Leo caught a few words of French here and there. The other was neater, script-like, and the ink was dark and consistent.

Unsure what to do, Leo began reading some of the journal. He had never heard of this happening before; he wondered if the other two knew. 

What’re you doing up, it’s nearly 3 am? was the first thing Leo’s eyes fell upon. 

Can’t sleep. What’re you doing up?

Reading. But that’s irrelevant. Go to bed. I’ll be here when you wake up.

Okay fine. Night, Fish.

Night. 

Leo could feel the affection between the two, even just from those simple words. He kept reading, flipping back through conversations that felt too private for him to be reading. His eyes found the words “I love you” written in big stark letters, filling nearly half a page. He slammed the book shut.

What was happening? Why did these two already seem to have a life? Why were they in his soulmate journal?  He pushed back the tears forming in his eyes and slowly opened it again. Words began appearing on the page. 

Finn, you there?

A moment later, answering words appeared, Yeah, what’s up?

Shit day. Then, I miss you.  

Leo wasn’t sure how to feel about all of this. He didn’t know who these people were, why they were in his journal, what to make of the clear connection they had. The best way, he supposed, to resolve this was to see who they were.

Hesitantly, Leo grabbed a pen and set it to a blank page.

Hello? 

Umm… hi? one of them wrote back quickly, the messy one. 

Who are you? the other, Finn, added. 

I’m Leo, he wrote, unsure of what else to say. I just got my soulmate journal, he added. 

There was no answer for a while. Leo had just about given up when words began appearing on the page.

This is our journal. We’ve had it for about four years now. I’m Logan, by the way, he added. 

I’m Finn.

Uh, well it’s nice to meet you both. 

Neither Finn nor Logan were sure what to make of the situation. Finn grabbed his phone, watching Leo’s words spread across the page, telling them about who he was and what he’d discovered when he’d opened his journal for the first time that morning.

Lo, is it even possible he’s also our soulmate? Is that even a thing? He sent the message to Logan, turning back to the journal.

Leo, where are you from? he asked curiously. 

New Orleans, came the response. Born and raised. What about you both?

New York City, Finn responded right before his phone pinged. 

He pulled up Logan’s response. I’m not sure, maybe? I’ve never heard of this happening before but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t. 

Quebec, came Logan’s response in the journal a moment later. Leo answered, but Finn wasn’t paying attention.

He was focused on the message on his screen, mind running through all the soulmate stories and tales he’d heard over the years. He remembered his brother getting his, being ecstatic at the messages he’d received. His friends all getting theirs, writing excitedly to their soulmates from the first moment. Even his parents talked fondly about it, the two of them meeting after a year and already being in love. None of them had two soulmates.

But then, in the back of his mind, a memory surfaced. His grandmother, telling him a story, late one night when he couldn’t sleep, about her best friend from high school. She had had a girlfriend when they went off for college, her soulmate. When they connected some years later there had been a boy too. She had never questioned it. After all, this had been the 60s. People didn’t ask questions like that. 

But maybe it was possible. Maybe this could explain the hole that still seemed to exist between him and Logan, no matter how much they loved each other.

~

As the months passed, Leo slowly made it through the journal. Finn and Logan had both given him permission to read it, although initially he had been surprised. He barely knew these people, why were they trusting him with their deepest secrets? But Finn said that’s what a soulmate journal was for and so Leo spent each night before bed reading a few pages, getting to know his apparent soulmates better and better with each word. 

He learned that Finn was a year older than Logan, 23 now, and his birthday was in August. Logan’s was in December, four days before Christmas. He read page upon page about their siblings, Finn’s older brother and Logan’s three older sisters. He wondered briefly what it was like living with siblings. 

They’d met before, in person, two years ago, Logan flying from Quebec, where he lived, to New York City for New Years. Leo’s heart ached when he read that. He wondered what the city had been like, what it had been like when they met. 

He wished he could meet them. 

He learned the small things about them, too. Logan had a terrible sweet-tooth. He was French-Canadian and could speak it fluently. (Canadian French was very different from New Orleans French). He couldn’t dance to save his life, despite his sisters trying. Finn knew how to figure skate, but had switched to hockey early on. He still kept up with it.The only food he could make without burning was hot chocolate the way his brother showed him. Finn liked to feel useful, to make people feel better. He liked to read. He liked to write letters to Logan while he slept. And Logan would scold him for staying up late, then absolutely melt at the words written on the page.

Leo wanted one of those letters. 

By the time he reached the entry from his birthday, three months had passed. It was quickly becoming summer in New Orleans, despite it being only May. As he got to know his boys better, and they got to know him, Leo wished more and more that he could meet them, see them. He wished he’d known them four years ago when they first met. He wished they’d had that time together. 

He wanted them to fall in love with him.

~

Hey Le! Logan wrote cheerfully late one afternoon. Leo sat outside in the shade of a nearby tree, flipping aimlessly through the journal. He felt conflicted. But the nickname sent flutters through his heart. What’re you up to?

Not much, he replied. Sitting in the garden. What’re you up to?

You have a garden?

Leo chuckled. Yeah. I can see the ocean from here actually.

You can see the ocean?? Jealous. 

Yeah, it’s also 85 degrees.

Nope, I’m out.

That made him laugh again. That’s what I thought.

I just don’t know how you do it! It’s like a million fucking degrees there all the time. I would actually die. 

And it’s always a million fucking degrees below freezing where you live. 

….touché. Leo could sense his reluctance through the paper. He wished desperately to see Logan’s face in that moment, see the pout he undoubtedly was wearing right then. To kiss it away, maybe press him back against his bed…

No. He wouldn’t let himself think of that. Because if he started down that path there was no coming back. And he wasn’t sure he could handle that. 

~

Finn we need to talk 

The text came one day as Finn was getting ready for bed. He paused in brushing his teeth, typing out a response.

FaceTime in 5?

Sounds good

If he was being honest with himself, Finn had expected this a while ago. He had known it was coming, knew it needed to happen. From that first message, Logan laughed at something Leo had written. Finn knew in that moment he was gone. They both were. The only problem now was how to say it.

The ringing of his phone shook him from his thoughts.

“Hey, Lo,” he answered as the call connected. 

“Hey.” 

“What’s up?”

“We need to talk.”

“Yeah, I gathered that from your text.” Logan didn’t laugh, and that’s when Finn knew this was really bothering him.

“Logan, I know what this is about. It’s okay.” Logan’s eyes snapped to his face. 

“What- how?”

“Babe, you’re not exactly subtle. And, well, neither am I. I know it’s about Leo. It’s okay.”

Logan sighed. “I just- I know he’s our soulmate, obviously. But it still feels like I’m betraying you? How can I love both of you? How does that even work?” Finn’s eyes widened at Logan’s words. 

“You love us? Both of us?”

“Harzy, how could I not? You’re my soulmates. But it’s more than that. I love you for you, not just because of some match in the system. And I want us, all of us, to be together.”

Finn was quiet for a long time. Eventually, he said quietly, “That’s why we never made sense. Why there always seemed to be a, a hole. We need Leo to complete us.”

Logan smiled. “Exactly.”

~

Leo, you there? Finn wrote.  

Yeah, came the reply a moment later. 

We have something we want to tell you.

We?

Hi Nut, Logan added hurriedly. Finn smiled at him through the phone screen. He wished he was there in person. He wished both of them were. 

Logan?

Yeah, it’s me. Fish and I talked. About this, us. We want- 

“Don’t take my moment!” Finn scolded playfully. “Besides, no one can read your shitty writing, I would know.” Logan pouted, but let Finn continue. 

Sorry about that. What we were trying to say is that we want you. If you’ll have us. I know all of this is new for you, it is for us too. But we need you. You’re the missing piece of our puzzle, and we don’t work if we don’t have you. 

Leo read the words over and over. Silence buzzed in his ears. It didn’t seem real, that these two boys, who had been each other's for so long, now wanted him. His mind couldn’t make sense of it all, of the love he could feel even through the thin pages of his notebook.

Leo, you there?

I’m here, he managed. I just don’t know what to say. 

Good or bad? Finn asked cautiously. 

Good, he laughed. Of course I want you two, do you know how long I’ve wished for this to happen? 

Oh yeah? Tell us.

“Logan!”

“Sorry.”

Okay, you don’t have to tell us. But please tell me you’ll come see us? I need to see your face. 

Please? Finn added for good measure.

Leo could have jumped up and down in that moment. Of course I will come visit. Of course. Then, a moment later, heart in his throat, he added, I love you guys. 

[shutupptara]

Taylor Swift songs and the hockey player I associate with them for one reason or another, part 2:

With red tv track listing released today, I’ve had Ms. Swift on repeat, so this is the outcome 😂 you can find part one here

*this is purely satirical, and my own opinions

Cruel Summer: Erik Johnson - specifically the line “he looks up grinning like the devil”. Big shout out to @capsvsducks bc she pointed this out and i haven’t stopped thinking about it since

I Think He Knows: John Marino - “he’s got that boyish look that I like in a man”.. John is a precious little bean, and I will not take questions at this time

Right Where You Left Me: Carl Hagelin - this is for selfish reasons mostly. I’m still sad he was traded from the Pens bc I love him w my whole heart, but he also has a tendency to worm his way into every team’s heart that he plays for. Then he leaves and you’re left waiting there, still a fan of your team, but now part of your heart is gone and if he ever thinks he got it wrong and wants to come back he always can!! (Especially to Pitt pls Carl I miss u)

Happiness: Tyson Barrie - I feel like Tys is def the type of ex boyfriend you want so desperately to hate and villainize and maybe for a while when you first break up you do, but eventually you realize that’s just not him. He brought happiness into your life, and you can find happiness again without him in it.

Stay Stay Stay: Evgeni Malkin - listen, Geno is the most loving Russian bear and this is such a happy song I can’t help but associate it with him. I 10000000% could see him putting on a football helmet after a fight and saying “okay let’s talk”. He’s always trying to make you laugh and he really does think it’s hilarious when you’re exasperated and grumpy with him but it’s all out of love

London Boy: Jeff Carter - yes, this is my attempt at being funny bc I’ve dubbed Jeff team dilf dad but he’s from London, Ontario sooo

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: Brad Marchand - love him or hate him, he keeps the game interesting and every opposing player on his toes

I Almost Do: Conor Sheary - Con’s the ex you really never quit. You try to pretend like you have, but there’s always a part of you that will still want him back and you have to stop yourself from running to him time and time again because you need to move on, but you just can’t

So It Goes…: Jamie Oleksiak - I am a firm believer that Jamie would be a fantastic boyfriend, but it’s going to take a lot to get him to commit, not even in a bad way, he’s just so busy that he’s never bothered to make time for a real relationship. And then he meets you and he’s met his match in every sense. You’re perfect for each other and you challenge him in the best ways. Also like, who wouldn’t do bad things for Jamie?

[heyitssmiller]

Chop It Like It’s Hot

Chapter 6: I’ve Got a Bad Queso Loving You

Pining. Food that may or may not be a disaster. The end of an era.

Also people actually wanted to be tagged for updates?? That makes my heart so happy <3

Tag List: @heyoitslysso @unknown-and-invisible

Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist

@lumosinlove

  It was weird, walking into the studio by himself for the first time. Finn kept expecting Logan to be right by his side like always and it hurt a little every time Finn remembered. He walked into the kitchens where he was greeted by a sunny smile and kind eyes and dimples.

He still missed Logan, but it was hard to mope with Leo Knut around.

“Hey,” Leo greeted, motioning for Finn to join him at the station. “Welcome to the final four.”

“Thanks. It feels weird here.”

Leo hummed. “Quiet, right?”

“Definitely less hectic.” Finn agreed, leaning his hip against the counter. “So what are we cooking today?”

“Well, why don’t you tell me? We’re cooking for someone special to you. I’m assuming that’s Logan, right?” At Finn’s nod a strange, unreadable expression flashed across Leo’s face before he continued. “Okay, so what types of food do you think of when you think of him?”

Finn thought about it, then smiled. “Our first date – after years and years of being friends and crushing on each other but refusing to do anything about it – was at a Mexican restaurant. We were on a roadie and went to go get dinner together and I was so frustrated at this point that I kind of just blurted, ‘Is this a date?’” Finn laughed a little at the memory. “And Lo, he just stared at me with those big green eyes of his for a moment and said, ‘I sure hope so.’ And that was it. No more drama, no more fuss. Just those two sentences – that was all we needed.”

The look from earlier was back on Leo’s face. Finn still didn’t know what it meant.

“I think we can definitely work with that.” He said finally. “How about we elevate a Mexican dish? Something to be meaningful but to also showcase your cooking? I've got a few recipes in mind. What about grilled citrus-marinated chicken?”

Finn wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

“Alright. Pulled pork tamales with corn salsa? Polenta stacks? Chipotle Mahi Mahi burrito bowl?”

“Oh!” Finn said excitedly. “I like that one. Logan calls me Fish sometimes.”

Leo laughed. “Why?”

“Nicknames are kind of a thing in hockey. It’s considered weird if you don’t have one. I’m Harzy, Harz, Fish, and probably a few more that I’m forgetting.”

“And Logan?”

“He’s Tremz or Tremzy, usually.” He looked over at the blond, propping his chin in his hand and smiling. “You want a nickname?”

“Oh, god. With a last name like Knut, I’m sure you’ll have plenty to go off of.” He laughed, turning to head towards the pantry. Finn followed after him like the love-struck puppy he was.

“Nut. Nutty. Peanut. Peanut butter. Nutter Butter. Honey bunches of nut – “

“How have you already come up with so many?” Leo stretched to grab a bowl off the top shelf, his t-shirt shifting up to reveal pale skin Finn desperately wanted to reach out and touch.

“I’m a professional hockey player.”

“Fair enough. Can you head to the spices and grab smoked paprika, chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper and onion powder?”

Finn grabbed the ingredients and met Leo back at the station. “Ready to get started? You’ll get the printed recipe and you can take as many notes as you want now and use them tonight.”

Finn clicked his pen in response, earning another smile. “Let’s do this.”

“So we’re going to combine olive oil, chipotle chiles, garlic, smoked paprika, chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper and onion powder into a bowl and whisk it really good. Then you can add the mahi mahi and toss it in there. Next we’re going to place it in the fridge while we start the rice.” Leo covered the bowl and set it in the fridge before reaching for a pot and turning the stove on.

“Add coconut milk and some coconut water to a pot and bring it to a low boil before adding rice, salt, unsweetened coconut and coconut oil. Stir to combine, then place the lid on the pot and turn the heat down to the lowest setting possible. Following so far?”

Finn nodded, definitely feeling a little overwhelmed.

Leo gave him a reassuring smile. “You got this. Next, let the rice to cook for ten minutes then turn the heat off completely. Let the rice sit on the stove, covered for another 20 minutes, then remove the lid and fluff the rice with a fork. Add the cilantro and lime juice – “

“No cilantro.”

Leo looked up from his pot. “What?”

“No cilantro.” Finn repeated. “Lo doesn’t like cilantro.”

“Got it. No cilantro. I think we’ve got enough seasoning without it.” Leo grabbed another bowl and pushed some ingredients towards him on the counter.

“Now we’re going to make the salsa. Add the diced mango, chopped strawberries, jalapeño, lime juice, pinch of cayenne and a pinch of salt to a bowl. Toss it, cover it, and keep it in the fridge until ready to serve. Now we’re going to cook that fish.” Leo grabbed the fish out of the fridge and sent him a sly look. “Hopefully this doesn’t count as cannibalism.”

Finn laughed loudly. “Oh man, wait until Logan hears that.”

Leo fiddled with the settings on the grill, which made Finn a little nervous. As seen in the build your own burger competition, he wasn’t the best with grills. He’d scared away all the ducks with how loud he screamed when he turned the grill on too high and flames erupted from it.

“You’re going to want a medium heat to cook this fish. Once the grill is nice and hot, add the mahi mahi, skin side facing up. Cook these for about 4-5 minutes and then flip them and cook until they’re crisp and mostly cooked through. This is super important: remove the skin.  We’re going to be cutting this fish into chunks and having pieces of fish skin in there would be really gross.

“Last thing is to plate these. All you’re going to do is divide the rice among your tortilla bowls and add the lettuce, black beans, and corn. Divide up the fish and then top each bowl with salsa, queso, and a dollop of sour cream. And you’re done!” Leo looked over at Finn, who was still writing notes. “Not so bad, right?”

Finn gave him a blank stare, then ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Go over it again one more time?”

“Sure.” Leo pushed one of the plates over to Finn. “Want to try some first?”

“Fuck yes.”

***

Logan stood in the studio hallway yet again, waiting with the rest of the families the final four contestants were cooking for tonight. It was going to be weird, being on the opposite side of the judging table. But at least he wasn’t cooking.

They finally got the cue to enter the kitchen and his eyes immediately found Finn, who was grinning madly and running right at him – whether he was allowed to or not. Logan laughed as Finn collided with him, hugging him close. “You just saw me this morning.”

“Yeah, but I missed you.”

Logan melted a little at that and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

Finn whined, shooting a longing look over at Leo. “Lo, you would not believe – “

“Please head back to your stations, recruits!” Dorcas called.

“Gotta go.” Finn sighed, taking a step back. Logan gave his hand a squeeze.

“You’ve got this.”

“Recruits, tonight you’ll be creating dishes for your loved ones. And your team leaders, of course. You can use any notes you’ve taken. You have an hour to complete this task and your time starts… now!”

Logan took his seat at the judges table (weird) and watched as Finn dashed off to the pantry. He made small talk with the other family members as time began to tick down much slower than he remembered from his time on the show. He turned his head when Leo sat down next to him and smiled almost nervously.

“I hope you’re not too mad at me for last week.”

“Nah,” Logan said with a shrug, doing everything he could think of to slow his heartrate down. “I deserved it. I served you guys raw pizza dough.”

“Only because I suggested you start over.”

Logan laughed incredulously. “Because my pizza wasn’t a pizza! Seriously, don’t worry about it.” He looked over at Finn, who was shying away from the grill as he threw the fish on it. “I’m glad he made it instead of me. He’s been so excited to be on this show.”

“He’s really improved a lot. You both did.”

“I’m still not sure I trust either of us in the kitchen.”

“Baby steps.” Leo said with a smile. “You’re more capable than you think.”

He glanced at the clock and let his voice carry to the contestants. “One minute left, recruits!”

Finn glanced up from his plating, cursed, and started working faster.

“Five, four, three, two, one, time’s up! Stop what you’re doing and step away from your plates!”

“I can see why you like this so much.” Logan said, eyes still on Finn as he looked down at his plates critically. “You get to sit here, no stress, and eat people’s food. This is the dream.”

“Not on this show. You should’ve tried some of the earlier dishes this season. I got food poisoning twice.”

“You did what?”

“It might’ve been three times if I’d eaten that chicken you tried to serve in the first challenge.” Leo teased.

“Why isn’t giving a chef food poisoning an immediate elimination?”

“Because then we’d have very few recruits left, and that would be a very short season.”

Finn set down his plates, smiling nervously. Logan looked down and smiled softly. “Mexican food.”

“No cilantro, just how you like it.”

God, Logan didn’t deserve him.

“Let’s see how this tastes.” Leo said, looking down at his plate. “The presentation is really nice.”

They both took bites of their food. The fish was dry, but Logan thought the rest of it was really good.

“It’s under-seasoned a little bit,” Leo commented. “And the fish is a little dry, but your salsa is perfect and the ratios of everything else in the bowl is very nice.”

Logan grinned up at Finn. “I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to you bringing this recipe home.”

“We need move on to the next contestant. Nice job, Finn.”

Finn beamed and grabbed his plates back.

***

“And the chef who will be leaving us tonight is…” Logan held Finn’s hand and waited for Leo to finish.

“Finn. I’m sorry, your time as a recruit is over. Please turn in your apron.”

Finn sighed, squeezed Logan’s hand, and stepped forward.

“It was really close, but in the end the under-seasoned and overcooked fish did you in.” Leo said, looking apologetic. “I’ve really enjoyed having you on the show. You’ve been a joy to teach.”

“Thanks for having me.” Finn said, trying to be cheerful as he handed over his apron. “I had a blast.”

After the cameras stopped rolling, Logan and Finn made sure to find Leo before they left. He was scrubbing down the grill and looked up when he noticed them. “So this is goodbye, huh?”

“Looks like it.” Logan replied, unabashedly staring and trying to memorize everything he could. Was it weird to miss someone when you hadn’t even said goodbye yet? When they were standing right in front of you? 

Finn piped up, “If you’re ever in Gryffindor, look us up. We’d love to see you.”

“Same for when you come to New York for games.” Leo smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Here,” Finn grabbed his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your number? We can send you our team schedule when we get it.”

Finn, you’re a genius.

“That would be great! I, uh, I really liked having y’all on the show. It’d be nice to see each other again.” His cheeks were red again, and Logan had to bite back a whine. He wanted to kiss those red spots so badly.

But this definitely wasn’t the time. There were people everywhere, two of them were probably leaving in the morning, and they didn’t know when they’d see him again. Or if he even liked them back.

Fuck.

Both Logan and Finn had forgotten just how awful the guessing game really was.

[shireness-says]

Birthday fic recs: @welllpthisishappening

It was @welllpthisishappening​‘s birthday yesterday! Laura is consistently one of my favorite authors, and a dear friend to boot. So, for her birthday, I’d like to recommend some of her deep-cut, hidden gem fics - favorites of mine I think everyone should be reading all the time. Go read them and check out her seriously impressive fic page. The organization is downright inspiring.

Thank you for your friendship and your fics and your willingness to listen to me have a conniption about not-your-hockey-team, darling - I hope the next year gives you all the joy that you deserve!

Start Spreading the News

Emma Swan is just looking for something that’s hers. She’s fairly certain she’s found it in New York, with a group of friends and a good job and picture frames on her apartment walls. But then the past she’s spent so long trying to ignore shows up where she least expects to find it – wearing pinstripes in right field at Yankee Stadium.

More Famous Than A Yankee Can

He knows it’s not a dream. He’s had this dream before. Finding her again and talking to her again and wearing pinstripes. They usually aren’t all the same dream. So this has to be real. But the last place Killian Jones ever expected to see Emma Swan was while he was wearing those pinstripes. With her standing on the bleachers in Yankee Stadium.

I’ve read these fics three times this year. Maybe four. I love it every time - there’s romantic type miracles and pining and fate and I can’t resist it. It’s everything you need to cheer yourself up in these weird stressful times. Every time I read one these, I immediately have to go tell Laura that it’s So Good because I just can’t resist. That good.

What Used to Be Limes

Killian Jones is ready for his rookie season in the NHL. He's got a hell of a shot. An almost acceptable amount of confidence. And a roommate he doesn't want to check. Plus, his best friend. Who he's hopelessly in love with.

A Rooting Interest

Emma's only doing Ruby a favor. And playing bartender is kind of funy — especially when the guy in front of her keeps smiling and looking up how to make drinks. She doesn't want to make a fool of herself. That seems inevitable, though. Once he leaves the tip. Two tickets to a hockey game. And the good-looking guy from the bar turns out to be the star of the New York Rangers.

Look, obviously Laura has proved she’s the master of hockey fics with her Blue Line stuff. But! These are a great pair of hockey fics not from that ‘verse. Disaster rookies! Emma who doesn’t know a thing about hockey! Flirting galore! If you haven’t read these already - you need to get on that right away. And then join me in my quest to remind Laura that if she ever has hockey feelings that don’t fit into Blue Line, she could totally add on to these ‘verses and no one would complain. Or at least I wouldn’t.

Feeling As Good As Love

Emma is excited about this weekend. It's always good — this thing they do, with the house and the ocean and the friendship that seems to stand the test of time. But now, there's an added bonus. Because this year she and Killian aren't just coming to the house on the beach with that friendship moniker hanging over them. They're coming as a couple. A real couple. That kisses. Regularly. And Emma's excited about that too. She just didn't expect her friends not to believe her.

I am, admittedly, biased, because I all but demanded that Laura write this. But that’s only because it’s so up her alley, as demonstrated by the masterpiece that ensued. The banter! The cliches list! Emma’s righteous (and warranted) anger! It’s everything the prompt demanded and more than I could have imagined. Perfect.

In Case of Emergency, Call...

Killian Jones does several things on Thanksgiving: breaks his ankle, meets a very loud redhead in the ER, tells his best friend he loves her. None of them were part of his plan. The plan only involved cookies.

This is a little bit of an odd one - because Emma’s not even there for half the fic. But her presence and her absence and her impact is just so palpable. That pining, man! I live for that pining. The best kind of friends-to-lovers, with plenty of Killian and Ariel banter and a little dose of fake married because why not. What else could you ask for?

Gone the Way of the Dinosaurs

Emma doesn't entirely understand the town of Storybrooke. It is, apparently, the kind of place with story time at the library and spring festivals on Friday night and unfairly attractive people with blue eyes who know all the words to the dinosaur song her kid is also inexplicably singing. She doesn't understand the town of Storybrooke yet, but maybe Emma is willing to do a little research.

I love librarian!Killian. I love tiny!Henry. Put them together? I’m a sucker for it. It reads so believably, both for Emma and for Storybrooke. And I think Laura might have been channeling her own shoe collection, which I find so charming. And you can learn about dinosaurs! And what names they have! Read it in the name of paleontology. 

Wrap Around Your Dreams

Emma Swan is not a very good witch. She’s emotional and prone to immediate reactions and neither one of those things are currently helping her when the body count in Storybrooke is on the rise. And there’s far too much blood at each crime scene and far too much magic and Emma has no idea where to look next. So she does the almost human thing; she starts making a list. Of clues and ideas and the absolute desperate hope that the killer isn’t what she’s certain it absolutely has to be. The last thing she expects is for the notebook to start writing back.

This is a perfect Halloween-type fic. I love epistolary fics and pen pal fics, but I’ve never seen anything like this before or since. The idea of them reaching out across all kinds of magical barriers because fate just gets me, man. Plus, the suspense is absolutely palpable. And the ending! Perfect. Another of my regular rereads. 

All Was Golden In The Sky

Magic is dying. Emma knows it. She can feel it, the emptiness rattling around in her, like it’s trying to make sure she disappears as well. What she doesn’t know is what to do about it, because, suddenly, there is a man in Storybrooke claiming she’s the Savior and a seeress certain a prophecy promises the same and the last thing she expects is for her minimal amount of lingering power to pull her away. To New York City. And another oddly familiar man with blue eyes and a smile that sinks under her skin and makes magic bloom in the air around her. Things are about to get interesting.

I was just enthralled the whole time this was posting. There were so many twists and turns, but everything still weaves together absolutely perfectly. Plus, canon has been adapted so well in this. I don’t even know how to start describing this fic - but trust me, you’ve got to read it. 

Out Of The Frying Pan

Emma Swan is only doing this for one reason, well, make that two. To get her show's numbers back up and, maybe, impress her son. She doesn't like admitting to that second one though. Killian Jones is doing this for absolutely, positively, just one reason. To expand his restaurant. And maybe get Regina off his back. So that's kind of two reasons. Neither one of them is doing a year-long Food Network all-star competition because they're celebrity chefs and there's not really any other choice. Of course not. And neither one of them is enjoying it because they maybe, kind of, sort of enjoy each other. That would be insane.

Ok, this one may not be that overlooked as much as it’s my FAVORITE THING ON THE PLANET. This is a perfect fic. Every time she posts another sequel one-/two-shot, my heart sings. It’s so good. The way Laura paints this competition, and lets everything grow over the course of weeks and month, is perfect - plus, there’s all the romance and Captain Cobra feels you could ever want. If you haven’t read this yet - Get On It Today.

Check out her fics on Tumblr and Ao3, and make sure to give her and them lots of love!

[prettyboybarzal]

tattoos together // tyler seguin

pairing: tyler seguin x reader

summary: it’s july 4th and you’re supposed to be celebrating on the cape with your best friend, tyler, and dozens of party goers. but things take a turn when he’s drafted to the dallas stars. 

(a slow burn, friend to lovers fic w/ the gift of boston tyler seguin and dallas tyler seguin AND matching tattoos) 

word count: 4k+

author’s note: this is just part one of idk how many, but i was inspired and needed to write this story. think of this chapter as a prologue of some sort... ps. this was inspired by “tattoos together” by lauv

warnings: alcohol, getting tattoos (??), cursing

Sometime within Tyler Seguin’s first year living in Boston, you bumped into him at a coffee shop. I mean, literally bumped into him. You were on the way to your first day of classes at Boston University and spilled your entire coffee on him. It was his fault, which he claimed almost immediately as he’d been looking down at his phone when it happened.

You had no clue who he was, but he was so pretty that your anger about the wasted coffee quickly dissipated. You almost let him get away with fucking up your morning routine. But, as if he knew the coffee was important, he nodded over to the shop and offered to buy you another.

You stood in line beside him, twiddling your thumbs around the sleeve of the now empty coffee cup.

“Are you from around here?”

“Yeah, I grew up just outside the city.”

“You live here now, though?”

“Yep.”

The conversation was dry, due in part to your exhaustion and lack of caffeine. He noted this, not bothering to push conversation anymore despite feeling desperate to talk to you.

You ordered, “Medium French Vanilla coffee with half and half, please.”

“She’ll have a large,” Tyler interjected. “She needs it.”

Before you could object, the barista was gone and Tyler was shrugging unapologetically at you.

When Tyler took the coffee from the barista’s hand, he snatched the pen off the counter as well. You watched as he etched his name and number onto the sleeve before handing it over to you. He smiled easily and said, “I’m new around here. I could use a native’s tips on the city.”

You never called him, or texted, until running into him at a bar a month later. He recognized you immediately from the other side of the room and quickly made his way over, shrugging off a girl whose name he couldn’t remember just to get to you. You had your back to him, but the look on your girl friend’s face was enough to make you turn and face him.

“French Vanilla,” he greeted. You laughed. “You never called.”

“I don’t normally call random men I meet, whether it’s at a coffee shop or a bar.”

Tyler scoffed at this before asking, “Have you gotten a drink yet?”

And, just as quickly as it had gone up, your cool girl façade was down.

“No, this place has the shittiest service.”

“Yeah?” Tyler asked, sensing the challenge. He raised a hand at the bartender and was served immediately. He relayed his drink order before glancing over at you and telling the bartender, “And whatever these two want.”

The bartender took your orders and left to make your drinks, leaving you to stare at Tyler in amazement, “How?”

“I might be a bit of a regular,” he murmured. When the drinks were placed down and Tyler grabbed his card to pay, the bartender simply stated, “You’re covered. Keep playing hard.”

“Playing hard?”

“I’m Tyler Seguin,” he said. He extended his hand and you shook it, a look of confusion still displayed on your face. “Of the Boston Bruins.”

“Oh, shit!” That’s all you said in response before dropping your hand. “Cool.”

The response was refreshing. Most girls already knew who he was, but you didn’t and he liked that. He invited you and your friend back to his booth, and you went because the promise of free alcohol was too good to pass up. 

“Most girls would’ve at least texted me if I gave them my number,” Tyler pushed. You were sitting beside him, watching your friend flirt with one of his teammates. His arm rested on the couch behind your head.

You smirked at how annoyed he seemed to be by the radio silence from you. Stirring the straw in your drink, you shrugged and teased, “Had I known you were a rich and famous hockey star, maybe I would’ve called you. You should’ve told me sooner.”

“Does this mean you’ll call me tomorrow?”

“I can smell the desperation on you, Seguin,” you stated. You turned your body to face him. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Who said I wanted that?”

“Your body language and persistence.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Something like that.”

At the end of the night, you wrote your number on a napkin and shoved it in his shirt pocket.

From then on, he invited you out every time he was hitting the bars. Pretty soon, he was asking you to grab food in the middle of the day. It snowballed into movie nights and wine, sleepovers with face masks, and lots of take-out.

Tyler liked you, but he liked the freedom of casual hookups way more. His fear of losing you was much stronger than his want for a relationship. And the same could be said for you. You were crazy about him, but not crazy enough to lose him. So, somewhere along the line, your relationship became strictly platonic.

Besides, it was easy to ignore your feelings when you’d only admitted it out loud once (under the influence of tequila) to your best friend, Lauren.

“You can’t expect us to spend as much time as we do with each other and not develop feelings,” you’d said. “But, right now, I’m having fun with casual stuff. And so is he. There’s no reason for me to pursue a relationship with someone as special as Ty right now. It’s too soon, we’re too young. Maybe one day, but not today.”

Now, as you stood teary eyed in his bathroom mirror, you were left wondering if that day would ever come. What the hell had you been biding your time for?

“It’s going to be fine!” Tyler calls from the other side of the bathroom door. You sniffle, but give no response knowing that your voice will fail you. He lets out a long sigh in the hallway. “Will you stop crying?”

“I’m not crying anymore!”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” he argues. Despite the situation at hand, you can hear the smile in his voice. “I hear you sniffling. Open the door. 

Frantically, you wipe away the smudged mascara beneath your eyes before sucking in a breath and releasing it uneasily moments later. The body behind the door remains, only silently this time. Pushing away from the counter, you turn to the door and grab the nob. When you pull it open, Tyler comes tumbling into the room.

He straightens up and flashes you a lopsided grin before tugging on one of the belt loops on your jeans. You fall into his chest with a thud, melting as his arms wrap around you. For a few moments, the room is silent. He laces his fingers through the ends of your hair and places a kiss on the crown of your head.

You mumble into his chest, “I don’t want you to go to Dallas.”

“I know.”

Suddenly, the sadness fades to anger as your train of thought drifts to the reason you suspect he’s in this situation. He’s been the irresponsible rookie, the life of the party, the womanizer… All titles that definitely made the decision to trade him to Dallas easier.

You push him away with a rough shove of his chest and scold him, “You’re such an idiot, do you know that? Fuck, Tyler.”

A frown replaces his goofy smile as he crosses his arms over his chest and grunts, “This isn’t a conversation I want to have with you of all people.”

You back down from the challenge, acknowledging the bubble of your friendship that so often excluded the hockey world. There’s no reason to shatter it on tonight of all nights, so instead of pressing on, you murmur, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He pulls his snapback off his head to run his fingers through his hair before placing it back down. “Now, can we please eat dinner and get ready for this party? It’s too late to cancel now.”

Down stairs, you and Tyler bustle about the kitchen. He put a pizza in the oven right before the phone call about the trade came in and you ran off to cry in the bathroom. When you return, it’s done and Tyler grabs a dish towel to take the tray out of the oven.

You slice the pie into an equal eight pieces before he takes it to the dining table. Tyler eats two slices for every one you manage, making sure you’re getting enough before picking up the next one. It’s comfortably silent, something the two of you are used to. The only conversation you share is between eyebrow raises, giggles, and moans of appreciation for the food on your plates.

When Tyler finishes off his last slice, he wipes the side of his mouth with the back of his hand, then with a napkin, and you find yourself staring. He’s completely oblivious to your wandering eyes, pushing away from the table to take his plate to the sink and leaving the last slice of pizza for you (like he always does). 

It’s a mixture of the excitement of the Fourth of July and the sadness of Tyler’s inevitable departure from Boston that ends up getting you as drunk as you are by 8 p.m. It’s been an hour since everyone started showing up and you stopped counting your drinks. And, quite honestly, you’re feeling good.

Tyler is the man of the hour, as expected, and he’s hardly by your side for the first hour. Each time he’s with, you watch him get whisked away to say hello to someone new, be it a teammate or one of his casual hookups.

Most nights this happens you don’t mind one bit, but tonight is different because moments with him are fleeting.

Once it seems like the flow of party guests has slowed, Tyler finds you again. He offers you a sympathetic smile and all is forgiven. From that moment on, he hardly leaves your side. He tugs on your hand when you try to leave the room or pulls you into his side when he sees your thoughts drifting away from the fun of the party.

Tyler knows where your head is at because he feels the same way about leaving. While he loved Boston and he’d miss it when he moved to Texas, he knew it was really you he’d be missing. You made an unfamiliar place feel like home.

“I’m going to top myself off,” you state, pushing yourself away from the counter. You sway on your feet, causing Tyler to reach forward to steady you. “Need anything?”

He shakes his head and responds, “I’m okay.”

Tyler watches you walk away and stares at you through the sliding glass door as you fill up your cup. You’re inevitably joined by a friend of a friend who starts chatting you up and you’re giggling at him, hand on his arm. Tyler needs to shake himself out of the trance he’s in.

The hardest pill for him to swallow, he’s decided, is the fact that he never took his time in Boston to pursue you.

His eyes drift out to the back deck again and he finds that you’ve settled against the railing, gazing up at the guy in front of you. He’s seen you give that look to guys before and he always finds himself wishing he was on the other end of it. With a grunt, he forces himself to walk away and push the sight out of his mind, opting to flirt with the pretty blonde by the beer pong table instead.

It’s not long before you rejoin the party and, when you find Tyler again, he’s playing beer pong with that same girl. He notices your presence as you settle against the back of the couch in the living room to watch the game. Your swollen lips don’t go unnoticed and neither does the presence of the guy by your side. You smile at Tyler and get one in return, but you’re completely oblivious to how half assed it is.

He brushes you off, turning to whisper something flirty in the ear of the blonde beside him before sinking his ping pong ball in the second to last cup. The guy beside you nudges you with his shoulder and asks, “Do you know him?”

“Tyler?” you ask with an air of familiarity. He nods. You smirk mischievously and answer, “Sort of.”

You turn your attention back to the beer pong game. There’s only one cup left and you fully intend on yanking Tyler away from the table as soon as he sinks the final shot, especially once you feel this guy’s hand wrap around yours.

Tyler hits the cup and embraces his partner before turning to bask in the cheers of his party guests, only to find himself face-to-face with you.

“Save me,” you murmur. He glances down at you, then over to your hand. You give him a pout, the type you know he can’t resist, and suddenly he’s relaxing his shoulders, eyes wide and concerned. “I do not want to kiss this guy again.”

“What are you going to do when I’m not here to bail you out anymore?” Tyler asks. You huff at him, adding an eye roll for emphasis. He looks over at your hand again and then up at the guy holding it. “Hey, dude, I’m going to steal her. Enjoy the party!”

Your new friend backs off, as any smart man would do when confronted by Tyler Seguin. 

Tyler grabs your hand and pulls you down the hall with him until the music from the living room is drowned out. You find yourselves just outside his bedroom door. The lights in the hallway are out to keep people from coming down to his room. He releases your hand and presses his back up against the wall. You step forward and drop your head to his shoulder. 

“Don’t let me do that again,” you whine. Tyler’s shoulders shake with laughter. “What the hell am I supposed to do when you move away?”

“Not make out with weirdos.”

“How was I supposed to know he was weird?”

“You can just tell that about a guy,” Tyler explains. You pull back to look up at him with a questioning glance. “Like, I’m too good looking to be a weirdo.”

“And humble, too,” you tease. He laughs, tossing his head back to direct his laughter at the ceiling. “Did I cock block you?”

He shrugs, a cocky smirk lying on his face, and answers, “Possibly.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. He gives no response, only offering you a soft smile instead of words. Truth be told, he didn’t mind that you pulled him away from the table, not one bit. You stared up at him, admiring his face until hiccup. Tyler giggles as you reveal, “I’m drunk.”

“I can tell.”

“How are you not?”

“I’m getting there,” he answers. He grabs your hip, squeezing it as he pulls you closer to him. “Maybe I’m trying to look at for you.” 

“I don’t need you to look out for me!”

“You sure?” he asks, dropping his hand. He furrows his eyebrows, annoyed by your comment, for whatever reason he doesn’t understand. He slips away from you, starts walking down the hall, and calls back, “Let’s see how that goes for the rest of the night.” 

Tyler disappears into the crowd, leaving you to fend for yourself. And, at first, it’s not that bad. You find a group of girls that you’d met through the Bruins boys and spend a while hanging out with them. But, one-by-one, they’re plucked up by men at the party and you’re left alone again. 

Not long after, the guy from the deck finds you. As he approaches, you search the room frantically to find Tyler is watching. His grin doesn’t fall, it stays wide and taunting. He’s not coming to your rescue this time.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you again,” porch guy says. “Seguin didn’t make a move on you?”

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

You hope this comment makes him change his mind about hitting on you, but he’s persistent. You can’t even comprehend much of what he’s saying because your eyes keep glancing over his shoulder at Tyler who’s now officially tuned out of your misfortune. He’s leaning against the wall, gripping the waist of some girl doing a full Jersey Turnpike against him.

He glances up once more and smirks.  Smug little bitch.

The next time you find Tyler alone, he’s in the kitchen. He’s facing the counter, his back to you, as he slices up limes and places them on a plate with tequila shots in the middle. You approach quietly until you’re close enough to wrap your arms around his waist.

“She comes crawling back,” Tyler murmurs. You hum, poking your head out to the side of his arm to look at what he’s doing. He turns to face you. “What do you want?”

“I want you to keep the creeps away from me.”

“So, you admit that you need me to look out for you?” he asks. He extends his arms behind him and places his palms flat against the counter as you press your face into his stomach. “Say it!”

“I need you to look out for me,” you mumble into his stomach. He laughs before winding his arms around you once more. “Bitch.”

“Hey!” he exclaims, shoving you off him. “Say nice things to me. You know I’m fragile.”

“Mhm,” you hum. “What you got here?”

“Tequila shots,” he answers. He plucks two shots off the plate and hands one over to you. You tap the little plastic cups together before tossing the shots back, shuddering at the taste.

“Let’s ditch this party.”

Tyler chuckles at your proposition, then sees that you’re serious. He takes the shot glass from you and moves to the sink to toss them in it. He turns again to face you and leans up against the edge of the counter.

“What? You want me to just kick everyone out?”

“Why not?” you ask. Your grin is contagious and it makes Tyler smile even wider. “We don’t care about any of these people anyway. Your teammates that were here all left with the girls.”

“It’s only 10 p.m., though.”

“Okay?”

“The night is young.”

There’s a beat of silence. He’s waiting to see what you have planned at the sake of an early night. You exclaim, “Let’s get tattoos!”

“Tonight?” Tyler asks with his eyebrows stitched together in confusion. You nod, smiling goofily at his surprise. “Your mom would kill me.”

“She absolutely would not,” you remark. “She loves you.”

The compliment brings a smug smile to his lips. Tyler stares up at the ceiling, allowing your suggestion to set in. Finally, he looks back down and asks, “What would we even get?”

It’s not a yes, but it’s close enough. You hop up excitedly, pressing both palms against his shoulders. The answer is easy, so it rolls right off your tongue.

“Stars.”

His eyebrows raise as he repeats, “Stars?”

“Yes, as in the Dallas Stars.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he teases. You glare at him playfully, but your smile returns when he wraps his arm around your waist and brings his face to yours. You can smell the liquor on his breath when the tip of his nose touches yours. He’s so close you could kiss him. “Let’s do it.”

Despite the late hour and it being a national holiday, Tyler’s able to call in a favor and ends up getting a tattoo artist to work on the two of you. Tyler was buzzing with excitement the entire car ride to the tattoo shop. You watched him chat away with the cab driver, wondering how he was being so brave. He feels your eyes on him and looks over with a smile.

“You okay?”

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you admit. Tyler’s eyebrows stitch together. He reaches out, running his hand over your hair and down to cup the nape of your neck.

“I’ll go first, alright?” he offers. “You’ll be fine. Actually, you have to be fine because you can’t back out now.”

Tyler keeps his promise and settles into the chair effortlessly within five minutes of entering the tattoo shop.

You watch Tyler flex his bicep as he sits and, quickly, divert your gaze. It doesn’t go unnoticed as both the artist and Tyler, glance toward you. Tyler smirks knowingly at the redness of your neck, the subtle biting of the inside of your cheek. He’s satisfied with the reaction, having only gotten it from you twice before tonight.

And, then, he’s brought back to reality as the tattoo artist starts explaining what he’s about to do.

You should’ve gone first because watching the needle go into Tyler’s arm like that freaks you out. Tyler reaches out with his other hand, noticing how pale your face is, and squeezes your knee. You look up at him and he mumbles, “Relax. It’s fine. See?” 

He smiles brightly to help the situation

“I’ll be here the whole time, too.”

A little while later, after there’s a star on the inside of Tyler’s bicep, you find yourself in the chair. Your arm is positioned so that your palm is face up. Tyler inches closer to you, the wrap on his arm making an uncomfortable sound, and asks, “Are you sure about getting it on your wrist?”

His question is met with a glare and a sharp, “I’ll back out.”

“You can’t back out, YN!” he exclaims. “We’re gonna have tattoos together! That’s a level of friendship I’ve never been on with anyone before!”

“Friendship?” the tattoo artist asks under his breath. Your cheeks flush at the question, but Tyler ignores it.

“You’re going to be fine.”

You end up feeling more than fine. The feeling of the needle on your skin definitely wasn’t ideal, but it looked worse than it felt. Though, you pretended to be in immense pain as Tyler sat there holding your hand. It was a good excuse for the physical contact.

As soon as the artist is done, he steps away to clean up a bit and Tyler lifts your wrist to his eye level. He stares, open-mouthed, at the four little stars on your wrist. It’s hardly anything to gawk at, but he finds himself falling in love with the little make-shift constellation on your skin. 

“It’s so pretty,” Tyler coos. He resists the urge to run his finger along the fresh ink, but he so badly wants to touch it. “I love it.”

You shouldn’t be staring at him like this, especially not when you have fresh ink on your skin to admire. But it’s so hard to look away from him. He’s so pretty. He’s so pretty when he’s admiring you.

“Honesty hour?” Tyler asks as you pull one of his sweatshirts over your head. He’s sitting against the frame of the bed with a bottle of champagne in his hand. You two have been nursing the bottle since you got back to the house over an hour ago, keeping your buzz from the night going.

You sit cross-legged across from him and nod.

“Sure.”

“When I met you in that bar after you didn’t call me, I was so sure that we would sleep together once and that would be it,” Tyler admits. He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a swig. You laugh at him. “You just wouldn’t let me even try.”

“It’s because I find you repulsive.”

“That’s a damn lie!” he exclaims with a cocky eyebrow raise. He extends the bottle to you and you take it without a second thought. “You know I’m attractive.” He waits a beat and says, “I know you’re attractive.”

You swallow the liquid and wave him off, muttering an ‘okay’.

“Two years of friendship and we never even kissed,” Tyler remarks. You nod at him before handing the bottle back to shut him up. It works for a moment as he takes another sip of the alcohol, but then he opens his mouth again to ask, “Why is that?” 

“Why did we never kiss?” you ask, making sure you heard him right. Tyler nods. “I’ve seen what happens to the girls you get romantically involved with. They don’t stick around very long.”

You’re surprised by how honest your response is… And apparently so is Tyler. He leans his head back against the bed and runs a hand over the scruff on his face.

“For whatever reason, I wanted to stick around.”

For several reasons, actually, but you can’t say that.

“I’m ready for bed,” Tyler announces suddenly. He takes one last swig of the champagne and hands it over to you. “Finish it off. I’m gonna go brush my teeth.”

You chug the rest of the liquor, feeling the need to be intoxicated to withstand the tension between the two of you. Then, you pop into the bathroom to brush your teeth beside him. He smiles at you in the mirror, happy with the domesticated scene he’s a part of.

He rinses off his toothbrush and places it on the counter before slipping out of the bathroom behind you to return to the bedroom.

You join him not long after. He’s sitting up against the headboard, his newly tattooed arm resting behind his head as he waits for your arrival. You slip under the covers beside him, immediately nestling your head into the pillow beneath you. He slides down as well, flicking the lamp beside him off.

“Ty?” you call. He hums in response. When you shift to face him, he follows your lead. Another minute goes by without a word. The light from the window is just bright enough to make out his profile. You can see his big brown eyes staring at you intently.

Finally, after you fail to speak up, he asks, “Yes?”

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper. Tyler folds his pillow beneath his head and nods. “You don’t know how much I love you.” Tyler was about to butt in, but you pushed your index finger against his lips to keep him quiet. “I’m proud of you, despite everything. I always am.”

“I know that.”

“Yeah, but I don’t say it enough,” you state. Tyler stays silent. “I just feel the need to give you the verbal validation. You know, since you’re so fragile.”

Tyler chuckles at this. He reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but he doesn’t retract his hand right away, allowing his thumb to brush over your cheekbone. He sighs and tells you, “I’m proud of you, too, even though you’re a broke college student.” 

“Thanks.” You chuckle along with him. “Promise you won’t forget about me when you’re living large in Texas?”

“I could never forget you, YN,” Tyler murmurs. “Especially not now that you made me get a tattoo with you.” 

The room goes silent again, but this silence feels heavy. It’s loaded and slightly uncomfortable. Tyler’s thumb is still running along your cheekbone, until it abruptly stops and he sighs again. He shifts, bringing his face closer to yours and, suddenly, your heart rate speeds up. He states, “Honesty hour.”

“Okay.”

“I think I’d beat myself up forever if I never kissed you before moving to Texas.”

Nothing else needs to be said. You lean in instantaneously and plant your lips on his. It’s somewhere between a peck and something more and it only last a moment. It feels way too quick. When you pull away, Tyler’s eyes are wide and searching.

“What?” you ask. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer. You’re chest-to-chest, staring into each other’s eyes. It feels so intimate and Tyler can’t stop thinking about how that kiss wasn’t enough. All these years he’s been convinced that one kiss would be enough to rid him of his yearning for you.

It only made it worse.

He shakes his head, a coy smile playing on his lips, and then he tucks your head beneath his chin. He decides he can’t kiss you again because it’ll just make this more difficult. His hand travels over your back and keeps you tight against his bare chest. He murmurs, “Goodnight.”

“Night, Ty.”

[starrybethany]

Dylan Strome: Part 8

Word count: 2193

The to-go coffee cup shakes in my hand as I walk down the sidewalk to my destination. Truthfully, I have so much anxiety about what I’m about to do and it takes everything in me to not turn around and sprint back to my apartment.

I open the heavy glass door, smiling when I see Sara sitting behind the receptionist desk.

“Look at you, a working woman,” I praise her.

She smiles at me, twiddling her pen. “Well I have to have something to do when I’m not in school. Plus, it brings a great reward.”

“He pays you?”

“Not with money,” she winks. I gag and she laughs. “What are you doing here, Y/N? You didn’t just come to show off your cute bump, did you?”

“I didn’t,” I admit, “I actually have an appointment with Jason.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh. Why do you need a lawyer?”

“I just want to discuss it with Jason first and then I’ll tell you girls later, okay?” I plead, staring into her eyes.

I guess she can see the desperation to keep my secret because she sighs but nods. “He’s actually just doing some paperwork right now, you can head on back into his office.”

I nod, thanking her and making my way towards the small room.

“Oh, and Y/N.” I stop and turn towards her. “You can always talk to me, you know that, right?”

I nod silently, sending her a gracious smile.

“Y/N, you’re two minutes late,” Jason says as I enter his office.

I close the door behind me and take a seat in the armchair across from him. He sets down his pen as we give each other our undivided attention.

“I didn’t know if you would come,” he confesses.

“Me neither.”

“So what brings you into my office? I have a feeling I know what it is but I don’t want to jump to conclusions.” His eyes flicker to my growing bump and I rub it soothingly.

“So I’m seven and a half months pregnant,” I start, “And that means I have one month and a half left until my daughter arrives. And as blessed as I feel to have her and as secure as I know she’ll be in my presence I don’t know if- if- if she’ll be the same in Dylan’s.”

His eyebrows rise as he sees the direction of this conversation.

“It’s just, he’s made so many questionable decisions since the beginning. He ignored me when I tried to communicate with him for the first three months, knew for a month and did nothing about it, and then took a month to decide he wanted to be a part of her life.

“All of the other decisions he’s made, like getting upset when the girls throw me a baby shower because he wanted to and then he never did, and sulking the whole time at the baby shower just shows me how selfish he is and how he’s not ready to become a father,” I rant, “And I’m completely over it, trust me, but he cheated on me while I was halfway through my pregnancy. Just take me out of it, think of some man cheating on his pregnant girlfriend in a nightclub. Not the best person fit to be a father, huh?”

Jason thinks thoughtfully before speaking, “Y/N, Sara’s been telling me everything that’s happening throughout your pregnancy and from the way she describes you crying almost every night from stress of this situation, I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses. It’s not a good situation for you or your baby to be in.”

“This is why,” I take a deep breath, “This is why I want to sue for full custody of the baby.”

His jaw practically drops in shock. I know, I completely pushed the idea out of my mind when I first thought of it. But then I slowly started thinking about it and now I realize it’s what I want the most. I want to be able to be with my child everyday, and I don’t want to have to worry about if Dylan gave her a bottle when she’s with him.

“I did some research last night,” I quickly add, “And a lot of the things that the courts consider I have the upper hand on. Except the living and money situation, of course, but what matters the most is which parent looks at the best interest for the child.”

“It’s very hard to get full custody,” Jason warns me, “If we do this, we have to be in a hundred and ten percent.”

“I want to do this,” I nod, “I feel bad doing this to Dylan but it’s for my child.”

“Are you sure that you don’t want to sue for sole physical custody and joint legal custody?”

“What does that mean?”

“That just means that the baby lives with you and under your supervision but both you and Dylan make decisions regarding education, medical care, and her development together,” he explains.

“I’ve been making decisions by myself so far and it’s going pretty well, so no,” I decline. “I want my daughter to live with me where I can make decisions for her without consulting another person.”

“Okay,” Jason nods, tying some things onto his computer and soon the printer next to him is running.

He grabs the stack of papers off of it and sets it in front of me, pointing at some words on the page. “So these are the things that a judge looks at in a custody case. The points that we’ll argue our side with the most will be the child’s age, assuming you’ll be breastfeeding that’s a big thing to consider, your experience with children because of your occupation, and stability. So far Dylan hasn’t shown you any stability and with his occupation, it’s bound to stay that way. My prediction is that his side will argue against your living situation and your financial situation.”

“Should I fix those things?” I ask worriedly.

“I don’t think you can fix those things,” Jason admits. “We’ll just have to point out that the baby will get her own room and that you’re saving your money to help with the finances she brings along. It’s not completely reassuring to a jury, but let’s hope it does the trick.”

“Let’s hope,” I repeat.

He prints off another stack of papers and holds onto them, staring at me with a concerned expression. “Would you be able to hand the papers to Dylan or would you prefer that I track down his lawyer and tell him myself?”

“I can do it. I need to talk to him about this, anyway,” I sigh.

Jason hands me the papers and I stand up, my hand on the door handle about to leave the office.

“Oh, and Y/N,” he calls after me, “Don’t worry about paying me for this. You need to save money for that little one and Sara would kill me if she found out that I charged you.”

“Thank you for everything, Jason,” I say, leaving the office.

Sara looks up at me curiously as I walk around to the front of the desk, dropping the stack of papers in front of her. She furrows her eyebrows but then starts to read a couple of lines, gasping in shock when she realizes what it is.

“You’re suing for full custody?”

I nod and she squeals, standing up to pull me into a hug.

“You know, I’m so sorry that you have to go through this but I’m glad you’re doing it. You and your baby deserve more than what he’s giving you,” she confesses.

I just nod again, not trusting my voice to speak.

Her expression fades. “When was the last time you talked to him, anyways?”

“A month ago,” I answer, “At the baby shower. We haven’t spoken since.”

“He hasn’t invited you to that baby shower that he’s going to throw?” She teases.

“That would require telling people that he’s having a child, so no.”

“He still hasn’t told people?”

“Not that I know of,” I shake my head. “I’m going to go home and rest. I bought a ticket for his game tonight and I’m planning on giving him the papers there.”

“If they lose you’re just going to make his night worse,” she tells me as I head towards the door.

“And if they win I’m going to make his night worse. It’s a lose-lose situation either way, Sara.”

~

My seat is in the top row on a curve in the building. It was the cheapest ticket I could find so last minute, and it was still very expensive. I try my best to enjoy the game because I’ve started to watch hockey since I’ve met Dylan and realized that I genuinely like the game, but it’s hard when I feel the stack of papers burning a hole through my bag.

The security guy was really confused when he had to check my bag and found custody papers.

I cheer with everybody else as Andrew Shaw checks Brad Marchand into the boards and Marchand goes to retaliate, causing everything on the ice to turn into chaos.

My eyes follow Dylan as he skates up to some unknown Bruins player, pushing him back gently to get them both out of the fight. Weird, he doesn’t want to fight on the ice but he does everything to encourage it off the ice.

The chaos dwindles and the game comes to a close, the Hawks winning 3-0. Not today Tuukka. I wait for the arena to empty a little bit and for the people around me to leave before pulling out my phone.

The ringing sound plays in my ear and then finally he picks up. “Hello?”

“Hey, Dylan. I actually made it to the game tonight and there’s something that I need to talk to you about,” I say. I hope he can’t sense the nervousness in my tone.

He’s quiet for a little bit before speaking again. “And it can’t wait?”

“Well I’m already here. I dropped hundreds of dollars on a ticket for this so it kind of needs to be right now.” Now I’m hoping he can sense the annoyance in my tone.

“Okay, uh, go down to the home bench and I’ll come out to get you,” he tells me.

“Okay.” I hang up and walk down all of those stairs to the home bench. By the time I get to the bottom I’m panting and my side is cramping.

“What, did you run a marathon?” A familiar voice teases. I look up to see Dylan smirking at me jokingly.

“I went from the top row to the bottom row while heavily pregnant, don’t tease me, Strome,” I answer.

As I catch my breath Dylan leads me to a back hallway where some players and Blackhawks personnel walk through. They eye me and my bump curiously as we pause in the middle of the hallway, stepping to the side so we’re not in anybody’s way.

“Big W tonight,” Dylan exclaims, high-fiving one of his teammates as they walk past.

“How does it feel?” I question.

He shrugs. “Good, it always feels good to win. And especially against the Bruins.”

“I’m sure,” I agree.

“You look gorgeous tonight,” his hands glimpse my waist and he takes a step closer to me. “Did I inspire you to come to the game?”

“Something like that,” I take an uncomfortable step back and his flirty aura drops. “I actually have something to give you.”

As I start to open my purse he jokes, “Nudes?”

I look up at him deadpan and he stops. “Not nudes.”

I pull out the papers and hold them out to him. He takes it curiously and his face darkens as he starts to read the top page.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Why the hell would you sue me for full custody?” He yells. People around us stop to stare. I ignore them.

“You’re not ready to become a father, Dylan, admit it. Put your ego to the side and think about what the best thing would be for your daughter.”

“And you’re not ready to become a mother, you still live with your best friend and you rely on your friends to do everything for you,” his voice gets louder.

“That’s what you think, Dylan, and we can talk about it in court if you won’t just sign the papers-””Of course I won’t sign the fucking papers, why would I voluntarily give away the rights to my daughter?” He roars, stepping closer to me.

I stare at him with a bored expression but apparently the people around us are getting worried because Alex steps between us, pushing Dylan back slightly.

“You need to take deep breaths, Dylan,” he orders quietly. The brunette doesn’t listen, still trying to bury me six feet under with his eyes.

“My lawyer will be in contact,” I announce, turning to walk down the hallway and leave.

“And my lawyer will slaughter your lawyer in the courtroom!” 

[71tenseventeen]

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too)-14

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Warnings for sexual content, male pregnancy, non-hockey Sid. Sid and Taylor’s ages have been altered to fit the story.

Perpetual credit to my betas, @queen-alia and @icosahedonist as well as the GC and @ljummen.

See bottom for Russian translation.

They’re both still smiling half an hour later despite Sid having had a blood draw. Geno clutches the strips of ultrasound pictures and gazes down at them as Sid pulls on his clothes and settles onto the (frankly, extremely comfortable) loveseat next to him.

Dr. Agarwal is back in shortly after that to wrap up the visit. She spends time answering any lingering questions and then hands Sid a piece of paper. “That’s for a different prenatal vitamin. I’m hoping this one might not make you quite as nauseated. Everything else looks great, as we discussed, but I am a little worried about your nausea and swelling.”

Sid nods, hanging on her every word because this is why he agreed to come here. It’s a tremendous relief to have a doctor who listens to him.

“I don’t necessarily think it’s too much of a concern now other than that the nausea has been so severe and it’s a little early to be swelling so much. I think a lot of it probably has to do with the heat and maybe how much you’re on your feet, too. I’d like you to cut back your work hours.”

Sid frowns. That... is not good.

She keeps talking. “Make sure you’re staying as hydrated as possible and wear good, supportive shoes while you’re at work and then elevate your feet when you’re at home for the night. I know it’s not ideal but this is just how some pregnancies are. We’ll do everything we can to make it manageable for you.”

Sid swallows and nods. It’s not the greatest news but it could probably be a lot worse. It’s not like he can argue his way out of it anyhow so he bites back his protests and thanks her profusely for the time she’s spent with him which, looking at his watch, he realizes has been nearly an hour and a half. Suddenly, he sees another benefit to agreeing to come to this doctor—something he never could have done without Geno.

Sid tells him as much once they’re in the car but Geno just shakes his head. “Not have to thank me. Is my baby too and is important to me to take care both of you.” He glances at the ultrasound photos again with another smile. “Should be thanking you. You carrying baby, you doing all the hard work. You sacrifice so much for our baby.”

“It’s worth it.” Sid smiles at Geno and they both look at the pictures in Geno’s hand again.

“Best baby,” Geno mutters and Sidney laughs his agreement.

As soon as they’re back at the house Geno makes a beeline for his refrigerator and sticks the strip of ultrasound pictures to the door with magnets. There isn’t much to see yet but Sid feels like the little black and white blob is the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on. He thinks Geno must feel that way too, if the look on his face is anything to go by. So they stand there with matching smiles until Sid’s stomach starts to protest, growling loudly and Geno laughs. “Baby need to eat.”

It’s the kind of cheerful, lighthearted evening Sid hasn’t had in a long time; the kind of warmth that usually comes after a couple of glasses of wine but tonight has nothing to do with alcohol. They work together to make dinner and sit together at the breakfast bar eating, occasionally grinning at the pictures on the fridge and each other. Geno is puffed up, as proud as Sid has ever seen him in the short time they’ve known each other. “We do that,” Geno says proudly. “We best at make baby.”

Sid giggles at him but he can’t disagree. He’s surprised at how accomplished he feels looking at the tiny shapes in the picture so he fist bumps Geno and tips his chin up. “Yeah we are. We got this.”

Geno nods in agreement. “Best at make baby. Best at be dads. Make all other baby cry because they not have us,” he says with a smirk and Sid dissolves into giggles again.

Later they sit next to each other, reclined in the Penguins chairs eating fruit and watching TV together. Sid glances over and finally believes that Geno is really in this for the long haul. He’s really not going to leave Sid hanging, and it’s the most comforting thing he’s ever known.

--

Sid shifts and slowly blinks awake. It takes him a moment to realize he’s still in the chair in the media room. The last thing he remembers is musing about how comfortable the recliners are. Now he’s covered up with a soft Pens blanket and Geno is nowhere to be seen.

He glances at his phone. 11:17. He thinks about letting himself drift back off, it would be easy to do, but his lower back is a little stiff and he knows the bed will be more comfortable so he heaves himself out of the chair and makes his way towards the stairs. Most of the lights are off and he figures Geno probably went to bed until he sees light coming from the kitchen. Changing direction, he starts towards the kitchen but stops abruptly when he hears Geno’s voice, shaky and rough.

“Не она, мама. Его.”

Sid frowns. Geno sounds so upset. Is someone here? He moves to the doorway and stops when he sees that Geno is on the phone, hunched over the breakfast bar. His muscles look tense and tight before he pops his head up and says roughly, “Его зовут Сид и я не оставлю его! Как я мог отказаться от собственного ребенка?”

Sid’s breath catches in his throat. Geno has been teaching him Russian words here and there but he doesn’t understand most of what he just heard. He can read the tone, though, and he can recognize his own name.

Sid. Whoever Geno is talking to, he’s talking about Sid and, he thinks, their baby. Sid swallows hard and backs away as quietly as he can—he has a feeling he wasn’t meant to hear this at all.

It takes him awhile to fall asleep. It’s another hour before Geno finally comes upstairs. Sid hears him pause outside his door and for a moment thinks he may come in but then he moves on down the hall.

Sid’s stayed over enough times now that he has a routine which basically consists of sleeping in and showering before he emerges. If Geno is there they eat breakfast together and maybe take a walk if it’s not too hot. They almost always end up in the pool. If Geno is gone to practice or meetings, Sid usually eats and leaves leftovers in the fridge for Geno before he either heads home to his own apartment or kills time in the pool until Geno gets back.

Today when Sid comes in Geno is sipping his tea. He looks up and then immediately looks away, only nodding when Sid tells him good morning.

“Breakfast in oven for keep warm.” He motions towards the oven before burying his nose in his phone.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Not hungry.”

“Oh. Okay.” Sid retrieves the plate from the oven—an omelet with all his favorite fillings—and sets himself up at the breakfast bar. He takes a few bites before he decides to try again.

“So what’s the plan for today?”

“Hm?” Geno looks up.

“I was just asking what you want to do today.”

He shrugs and looks back at his phone. “Whatever you want is fine.”

“I thought you said we’d swim today. Like we normally do?”

“Then why you ask if you already know?” Geno snaps and Sid sits up straight. Geno has never spoken to him like that. Not once.

“Fuck. Sid, I’m sorry. Have rough morning but no excuse for talk to you like that.”

Sid swallows hard and looks closer at him, takes in the messy hair and the dark circles under his eyes. “You’re upset about the phone call last night, aren’t you?” he asks, thinly.

Geno snaps his face up. “How you know about that?”

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I woke up and heard… Well I heard you talking in Russian but you said my name and you sounded really upset.”

“You not supposed to hear that.”

“I said I didn’t mean to,” Sid says before finally putting his fork on the plate and pushing it away with more than half an omelet left. “I should go.”

“Don’t go!” Geno runs a hand through his hair and gently puts a hand on Sid’s arm. “Sid, please.” Geno looks so desperate and Sid just can’t understand it.

“Why? All I’ve done is make things worse and worse for you.”

“No, that not true!”

“It didn’t sound that way last night.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter! Who was giving you trouble this time? Your agent? Team lawyers? PR?”

“Parents.”  Geno says it so quietly that it takes Sid a moment to comprehend before he sucks in a breath and slumps.

“Oh god. Geno, I’m so sorry.” Sid shakes his head, closes his eyes and can’t bear to look up at his sad face.

“Have nothing to be sorry for. I tell you this over and over. What it take for you to believe me?”

“Geno, come on. Your parents?” Sid shakes his head. “I’m not worth that.”

Geno frowns hard and moves to stand in front of him, taking his face in his hands. “Not ever say that, Sid. We make baby and baby is worth everything.”

“But you barely even know me and now you’re stuck with me.”

“I know we having baby together. Know you good person, good heart. I know you hard worker, and so stubborn.” Geno smiles at him. “Maybe not know a lot but not know nothing. Not stuck, Sid. Choose not to walk away because I want to know you and know my baby. Learning more every day because I want to. And I’m like everything I’m learn so far. Even the stubborn.”

“But… your parents.”

Geno shakes his head. “Is their choice if they not support.”

“Is that what they said to you?”

He shrugs. “Not exact. They not happy I was with guy but not say they not want me. Same as your parents.”

Sid nods. “Maybe but I can go back to Canada. If this gets out—”

“Then I deal with but would give all that up before I give this up. You not get this way alone and I’m not leave you to deal with alone. This our baby, Sid. And okay, maybe not plan for right now but ever since I’m find out I’m so happy. Even when things are scary, when not sure how we handle it all, I’m still so happy. I’m going to be a papa, Sid, and I want that.”

“Really?” Sid offers up a tentative smile.

“Sid,” Geno starts and wraps his hands around one of Sid’s. “You sacrifice so much to carry our baby. You worth everything.”

-----------

Part 15

Не она, мама. Его. = Not she, Mama. Him. 

Его зовут Сид и я не оставлю его! Как я мог отказаться от собственного ребенка? =  His name is Sid and I will not leave him! How could I give up my own child?

[lovemesomesurveys]

Describe today in one word? Sleepy. How long until your next birthday? 4 months. Do you save the surveys you take? Well, yeah. I post ‘em on here. Are you listening to any music? If so, what? Nope. I’m listening to an ASMR video. Does it bother you when people don’t reply to you instantly? It depends. Like if I need an answer to something or it’s important, then yeah.

Would you ever admit to being a slacker? Yes. I know I’ve been a slacker these past few years. I didn’t used to be. How far away do you live from the beach? About 2 hours from one. Could you ever see yourself as a school teacher? I wanted to be one when I was a kid, but nah not now. Is success a journey or a destination? Uhh. Have you ever attempted to do pinkie push ups? No. What is one thing that made you smile today? Just now because I’m really super dumb and tried to do a push up with my actual pinky and then realized that’s not what a pinky push up is. HAHAHAH. Do you have a strong or weak stomach? Weak. I have stomach issues. What’s worse - the waiting or the waiting room? I don’t do well with the waiting part, period. I get so ridiculously anxious. Is there anything in your pockets? No pockets. I never use ‘em, anyway. What was your first thought when you woke up this morning? I’m tireddddd. Do you get frustrated easily? Yes. What is one thing that frustrated you today? My anxiety waking me up early yet again. List three colors you are wearing? I’m mostly wearing black, but there’s some white and gray on my shirt. Is your computer dusty? Under the keys is pretty disgusting. I really need to get those cans of air basically that blow out the dust. Have you ever fallen out of a tree? No. How many questions do you usually prefer on a survey? 25 at least. What was the last lie you told? I don’t remember. Do you give your friends advice? I used to. Are your feet cold, currently? No. Why do they call it a “puppy dog face”, anyway? Because dogs have that look in their eyes that they give you, you know the one. People try to imitate that when they want something. How many licks does it really take? For...? What is your favorite writing utencil? Pens. Have you given any thought to who your Valentine is going to be? That wasn’t a concern for me. What was the last thing you said out loud? “Hi.” Did you yell at anyone today? No. Do your feelings get hurt easily? I’m a sensitive gal. Finish the sentence… In the summer… I’m miserable. I get annoyed when… People chew loudly and make slurping/smacking noises. On Friday, I will… Do nothing. My favorite pair of shoes are… Adidas. While no one is looking, I… *shrug* Back to the Q’s. (: Do you have any siblings? I have two brothers. What is your best friend currently doing? She’s in her room watching TV. Can you tell military time? Yeah. Are you a fan of hockey? Nope. Juicy Fruit or Big Red? Big Red, I guess. Juicy Fruit lasts like 2 seconds. I must prefer minty gum, though. Tigers or lions? I don’t have a preference. Sharks or butterflies? Neither. Do you watch Desperate Housewives? Nope. Have you ever been on TV or the radio? Yes. When is the last time someone spent the night at your house? A couple years ago. Any plans for the weekend? Nope. Some lyrics to end this survey, hmm? This question has been at the end of a lot of surveys I’ve done recently.

[dailyhockeyimagines]

nolan patrick // sting like a bee

requested by @summersimpkins-blog

warnings: steamy 

who: nolan patrick x reader 

premise: nolan gets into his first nhl fight 

a/n: it was very difficult writing about the flyers beating the pens... but it is fiction, right?? lol send requests!! hope you enjoy 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Nolan got pretty nervous before every game, especially as a rookie, but today his anxiety was palpable as he drummed his fingers against his knee and tapped his foot rapidly against the ground. Today was the first Flyers vs Penguins game of the season and the first rivalry game of Nolan’s career. More than ever, people would be watching to see if he was up to the challenge or if he would fall short. Ever since going second in the draft, Nolan has been fighting to prove himself and show the world what he can do.

You had also gotten caught up in his competitiveness, wound tight by the same pressure that drove him. When you had first started dating Nolan a year ago, hockey was his release. You had quickly fallen in love with hockey simply by the expression Nolan wore when he spoke about racing down the ice and burying pucks in the back of the net. Now, his effortless smiles were replaced by steely eyes and pursed lips. He still loved hockey of course, but the transition from past time to career weighed heavy on his shoulder.

When he left around 4:00 from your shared apartment to head off to the rink, you hoped for something –something– to help Nolan (and you!) let go of the pressure.

***

You headed to the rink around 6:15 for a 7:00 puck drop. As you walked through the sea of orange to find your seats, the energy of the rivalry buzzed all around you. A lot of Penguins were there, clad in Black and Gold and littering the stadium, breaking up the usual steady stream of Flyers’ fans. Tonight already felt different; this game was certainly not like any Nolan had ever played before.

You chose to sit rinkside tonight instead of in the wives and girlfriends box to give Nolan an extra edge. You knew it helped to both calm him down and rile him up to see you when he’s out there. The bickering around you crowds your ears until they ring with silent tension as the puck drops.

Immediately, the game is more intense than any you had ever seen. You can see the hatred in every check and faceoff, the dirty moves given and received when the refs weren’t looking and the fast game style that was more desperate than intentional.

When Nolan is on, he is forcibly pushing the puck towards the Penguin’s net instead of gracefully gliding past and through the other players. This is a game of power and the winner takes all.

The whole thing moves so quickly, back and forth, up and down the ice. The Flyers score on a power play and the Pens tie it up less than a minute later.

Then, before you can even think, gloves are resting on the ice and two players are circling each other, fists up high. You don’t recognize the Pens player and you haven’t gotten a good enough angle on the flyers guy yet before he throws the first punch, hard and square on the nose. They are drifting towards you and you catch sight of Nolan’s bright eyes before he ducks and hits target again. You are shocked watching your boyfriend like this, seemingly a natural. You know hockey is an aggressive game but Nolan had always played it as an artist, not as a fighter. Even though you felt paralyzed, you couldn’t deny the energy that coursed through your body as Nolan landed punch after punch on the poor Penguin’s player. You could see him ease up immediately when he was finally pulled back, a smile even pulling its way across his face as he turned to skate off the ice.

You immediately reflected the smile as you thought of the fight. You would have never expected it and now it was all you could think about, replaying in your mind as the rest of the game unfolded. The way his body moved so quickly, the speed of his reactions. The other guy never had a shot.

When Nolan was finally back in, you couldn’t help but feel safe as he skated passed you against the boards. There was something animalistic in the way he fought, something so primitive and protective. It was kinda... hot. Like, really hot.

For once, Nolan wasn’t in his own head but much looser, playing in the relaxed way you had once known before this season. Five minutes left in the third, the game is tied at three and Nolan swiftly pulls the puck away from an opponent’s stick and glided through the neutral zone and into his offensive one. He doesn’t hesitate as he lets a puck sail from ten feet out and the whole room erupts when it just passes over the shoulder of the goalie.

Nolan’s goal ends up being the game winner and you are so utterly excited as you wait for him outside the locker.

When he emerges, sweat lacing his forehead, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. For the first time in a long time, he kisses you back like he isn’t half thinking about something else, flipping you to press you up against the wall. When he pulls back for a second, eyes falling onto your swollen lips, you immediately bring him back in for another kiss. He slightly chuckles against it but doesn’t protest as he switches up the angle.

Slightly panting, he speaks raspily between chaste kisses to your face and neck.

“Maybe I should get into fights more often”

You think about it for a second, think of getting that same energy rush again and again. But then you think of Nolan maybe fighting a bigger guy and losing, getting bruises along his pretty jaw.

You must be making a face at the thought because Nolan laugh heartily at you.

“Only the ones you can win” you say at last, smiling as you kiss him once again.

[broomballkraken]

Title: Summer Lovin’

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses/Fire Emblem Heroes

Pairing(s): Sylvain/Lorenz, Dorothea/Ingrid

Word count: 5550

Warnings: N/A

Summary: College AU. With the spring semester of his first year of college finally over, Sylvain is excited to have a fun and relaxing summer, especially since his busy schedule had kept him from spending an adequate amount of time with his boyfriend, Lorenz. During a double-date at the beach on perfectly hot and sunny day, Sylvain realizes that he really does feel something special for his once insufferable roommate.

The harsh rays of the summer sun beat down on Sylvain, and he lifted his hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the blinding light. Normally he’d hate this kind of heat, having been raised in a rather cold climate, but that was not the case today. He stood on a beautiful sandy beach, and he couldn’t wait to take a dip in the crystal-clear water. Sylvain had a feeling that this was going to be a perfect day for an overdue date with his boyfriend.

“Hey, Sylvain!”

“Where’s your man at?”

Er, well, it was a double-date, actually.

Sylvain turned and waved as Ingrid and Dorothea walked hand-in-hand up to him. They were already in their bathing suits, and carried a couple of beach bags as well as a beach umbrella with them. Sylvain shrugged as he slung his own bag over one shoulder. “He’s getting changed. He should be out soon.”

As if on cue, the tell-tale squeaking of the changing room door opening hit Sylvain’s ears, and he turned to find a blushing Lorenz taking a nervous step out of the room. Sylvain’s eyes widened with surprise as he peaked over his sunglasses to take in the tantalizing view of his boyfriend’s unusually exposed body. Huh, he never would have guessed that Lorenz was the kind of person to don a speedo of all things, but the color perfectly matched his striking purple hair, and the red rose printed on it was rather fitting. Lorenz self-consciously tugged at his shirt, which also had a rose pinned on it, and that made Sylvain smile; his boyfriend’s affinity for roses had always been incredibly endearing, but that didn’t stop Sylvain from wanting to tease him a bit.

“Damn Lorenz, I didn’t take you for a speedo guy at all.”

“D-Do I really not pull it off?” Lorenz’s brow furrowed as he scoffed. “Oh, and I thought the colors complimented my hair and style perfectly when I picked it out-”

“Whoa, hold up there, I never said that.” Sylvain chuckled as he grabbed one of Lorenz’s hands, entwining their fingers together. “It looks sexy on you, babe. I personally love the roses.” He sealed the deal by placing a kiss on Lorenz’s cheek, and Sylvain snickered when Lorenz’s face flushed a deep red.

"And I won't even ask if you like my swimsuit, I'll just say... you're welcome." Sylvain winked as Lorenz just let out an exasperated groan.

“Do you always have to be so...insufferably cocky?” Lorenz asked, and Sylvain chuckled as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“But of course! It fits me, as someone who has such a huge c-”

“Ugh, get a room already!” Dorothea interrupted, rolling her eyes, but Sylvain caught a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as she turned and began walking down the beach with a chuckling Ingrid. “I know a really nice spot that’s usually not too crowded. Try to keep up, boys.” Lorenz and Sylvain shared a glance and smiled before following the girls, their hands clasped tightly together.

Sylvain knew that they were an odd couple, he and Lorenz, and if someone would have told him when they first met that they would eventually end up together, Sylvain would have laughed in their face. It was still a bit surreal, having fallen for his roommate that he didn’t get along with for almost the entire first semester of their college careers. They clashed in many ways; Sylvain was a typical, flirty jock on the surface, who majored in kinesiology, played hockey, and flitted from one girl to the next as he breezed through his first semester classes with ease. Lorenz was also a shameless flirt, but that seemed like the only thing Sylvain had in common with the history/political science major who loved horseback riding, collecting and drinking exotic teas, and writing flowery poetry.

As that first semester came to a close, however, Sylvain and Lorenz had learned a lot about each other, and realized that they did have more in common than they both initially realized. Mainly, they both had some pretty heavy family issues that stemmed from some serious homophobia. Lorenz had been immediately kicked out by his dad when he was sixteen after being caught kissing another boy, while a 12-year-old Sylvain watched as his trans brother, soon after coming out to their parents, was also kicked out and never heard from again, leading to Sylvain desperately trying to deny his attraction to men out of fear of the same thing happening to him. After a night of deep conversation and passing a bottle of strong whiskey between them, they had moved on from a mutual dislike of each other to the beginning of a strong friendship.

“Here we are! Oh, and it looks like we’re the only ones on this section of the beach,” Dorothea said, a satisfied grin crossing her face as she set down her bag and helped Ingrid set up their umbrella.

“This is a really nice spot, how’d you find this place, Doro?” Sylvain asked as he and Lorenz began setting up their spot.

Dorothea giggled and winked as she shook her head. “Oh no, my dear Sylvain. A lady never reveals her secrets.” Sylvain let out a defeated sigh and shrugged.

“Fine, fine, keep your secrets.”

“I always do.”

The group finished unpacking their things, and eventually Dorothea and Ingrid were sunbathing on their beach chairs, while Sylvain sprawled out on a towel and Lorenz settled down next to him, but in the shade of their umbrella.

“You don’t wanna lay in the sun, babe?” Sylvain asked, raising an eyebrow as he lay back with his arms crossed over his head. Lorenz shrugged as he pulled out a notebook.

“Not really. I burn very easily,” Lorenz said, and Sylvain rolled his eyes and sat up. He rummaged around in his bag for a moment and pulled out some sunscreen.

“Well, let me help you out with that. A little bit of vitamin D is good for you,” Sylvain said, squirting a decent amount onto his hand, “Plus, a little color might make you look less like a ghost.”

Sylvain laughed when Lorenz glared and pouted at him, but he did not resist when Sylvain moved behind him and slipped Lorenz’s shirt from his shoulders. “I guess I could use some sun. I don’t tan very well, though.”

“Hmm, I think you’d look pretty sexy with a nice tan.” Sylvain snickered when Lorenz sputtered in response; Sylvain thought it was adorable how easy it was to fluster his normally very prim-and-proper boyfriend. He decided to ease up on the teasing (at least for now) as he rubbed a generous amount of sunscreen over Lorenz’s back and shoulders, and a smile crossed his face when Lorenz sighed and Sylvain felt him relax.

It had been a busy and difficult spring semester for the both of them, and thus they hadn’t had much time to relax and spend time together as a couple for the first few months of their relationship. Sure, they were roommates, but between Sylvain traveling a lot for hockey and both of them spending late nights in the library with different study groups, they counted themselves lucky the few times that they weren’t too exhausted for brief moments of intimacy. But with summer break finally here, Sylvain was looking forward to many fun dates like this one.

After Lorenz took a turn rubbing sunscreen on Sylvain, they fell into a comfortable silence as Sylvain basked in the sun, while Lorenz stayed in the shade and wrote in his notebook. As Sylvain listened to the calming sound of Lorenz’s pen scraping across the paper, his curiosity at what Lorenz was writing was growing and growing. Cracking one eye open, Sylvain watched Lorenz’s face. His eyebrows were furrowed thoughtfully, and he would sometimes chew on his lower lip or poke his tongue out as his concentration deepened. Sylvain thought it was the cutest thing ever.

Eventually, Sylvain’s curiosity got the better of him, and he sat up, his elbows propping up on his knees as his chin fell to rest in his hands. “What’cha writing?”

Lorenz seemed startled by his voice, and Sylvain raised an eyebrow when his boyfriend almost dropped his pen as he flailed slightly. “Er, uh, it’s really nothing…”

“Bullshit.” A devious grin crossed his face as he snatched the notebook from Lorenz with lightning speed. “I bet you’re writing something lewd.”

“S-Sylvian, please!” Lorenz tried reaching over to take the book back, but Sylvain placed a hand over his face, effectively keeping Lorenz away as he held the book in his free hand.

Clearing his throat, Sylvain fought back the urge to laugh at the mortified look on Lorenz’s face as he began to read from the book. “Ahem, ‘To find the analogue of your beauty in nature, I look only to the anemone.’” Sylvain barely managed to get the words out before he burst out laughing so hard that tears started falling down his face. When he recovered from his laughing fit, he looked up to find a pouting, red-faced Lorenz glaring at him, who quickly snatched the book out of Sylvain’s hands.

“I am well aware that it’s terrible, thank you,” Lorenz grumbled as he stuffed the book back into his bag before crossing his arms over his chest.

Sylvain laughed and wrapped his arms around his moody boyfriend, pulling him onto his lap. “C’mon, babe, I’m just teasing you. Anemone’s are pretty cool to look at.” Lorenz averted his gaze and huffed, and Sylvain placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Besides, the rest of your poetry is fucking fantastic,” Sylvain added, and he grinned when a sheepish smile crossed Lorenz’s face. Sylvain certainly wasn’t lying about that; Lorenz was a phenomenal writer. Sylvain had been skeptical, at first, when he found out that his roommate, who, in addition to his double-major, was also getting a minor in creative writing of all things. Sylvain’s skepticism was replaced with sheer awe when he had snuck a curious peek at Lorenz’s writing while he was in the bathroom.

The flowery yet fitting descriptions, the way each line flowed perfectly to the next, the intensity of the imagery and emotion invoked...Sylvain had been floored by what he read. At the time, he would never have asked Lorenz outright to read his work, so Sylvain continued to occasionally sneak glances at his roommate’s writing whenever he happened to leave it out in the open.

There was one specific time that Sylvain had done this that had been a key event that eventually led to their relationship. It was after he and Lorenz had overcome their differences and finally became friends, and very shortly after Sylvain had developed a crush on him. Sylvain had just returned from a shower after a tough hockey practice and was ready to immediately pass out for the night. However, he spotted Lorenz’s notebook on his desk, left unattended again, and Sylvain couldn’t resist the familiar temptation to read it.

As his eyes skimmed over the most recent poem, Sylvain’s face had heated up and his jaw dropped with shock at the words. ‘My heart strays ever-towards a man of tangerine hair and the most beautiful, amber eyes; Alas, the unforgiving bite of longing eats away at one’s aching heart so bitterly…’ That description sounded too much like Sylvain to just be coincidence, and the very idea that Lorenz might actually feel the same way about him gave Sylvain the confidence he needed to confess his feelings only a few days later. And wouldn’t you know it, Lorenz indeed admitted to having mutual feelings, and they’ve been together ever since.

“Hey guys, come join us in the water!”

Sylvain was pulled from his trip down memory lane when Dorothea and Ingrid walked up to them, pool noodles in hand, and Sylvain nodded as he stood up.

“Alright. I was just getting a bit too hot anyway. C’mon babe.” Sylvain offered his hand to Lorenz, who smiled as he took it. They started towards the shoreline, but Lorenz suddenly stepped in front of Sylvain.

“Sylvain, dear,” Lorenz said, frowning as he lifted a hand to Sylvain’s chest, “You should probably take this off; I hate for you to lose it.”

Sylvain’s hand moved to mirror Lorenz’s, and his fingers brushed over the necklace that hung from his neck. Ah, right. He had almost forgotten about it. This necklace had been a gift from Lorenz, shortly after they had started dating. Lorenz had said that it caught his eye while he was out shopping with Hilda, and he thought that it would suit Sylvain well. Sylvain was very touched that his boyfriend had just up and gotten a gift for him out of the blue, and Sylvain had not taken off the necklace since, except for when he showered or slept.

“Ah, right. Thanks, Lorenz. Definitely don’t wanna lose one of my favorite accessories.” Sylvain grinned when Lorenz cleared his throat to try and unsuccessfully hide the blush on his face, and Sylvain safely stored the precious piece of jewelry in his bag along with his sunglasses before they rushed off to join Dorothea and Ingrid.

The two couples eagerly made their way into the water, and Sylvain shivered as his hot skin was struck by the very cold, but refreshing waves. Lorenz waded in up to his knees, and his face was scrunched up when Sylvain turned to look back at him.

“What’s up, babe?”

“It’s...really cold…”

“Aw, c’mon, it’ll be fine once you’re in!”

“B-But…”

Sylvain didn’t give Lorenz time to complain anymore, as he rushed up to him and hoisted him over his shoulder with ease. Yelping, Lorenz struggled in vain to escape his boyfriend’s hold.

“L-Let go of me, Sylvain!”

“Hehe, you better hold your breath, Lorenz!”

Lorenz’s shriek of protest fell on deaf ears, as Sylvain took a few large strides into deeper water, before sucking in a deep breath and plunging the both of them underwater. It was really cold at first, but Sylvain rather enjoyed lower temperatures, and he got used to it quickly. When he broke the surface again, Sylvain snorted before bursting out laughing when he saw the state his boyfriend was in.

“That was not funny.” If looks could kill, then Sylvain would have been dead and gone long before he knew what hit him. Lorenz was absolutely seething, his soaked hair sticking to his face as he shivered where he stood. Sylvain got his laughter under control and wrapped his arm around Lorenz before he could escape.

“Let go of me,” Lorenz grumbled, struggling against Sylvain’s hold halfheartedly, but Sylvain shook his head and tightened his grip.

“I’m sorry, babe. Let me warm you up.” Sylvain prevented Lorenz from complaining by covering his lips with his own. Sylvain didn’t know if Lorenz was starting to feel warm, but he sure was. Sylvain had kissed a lot - a lot - of people before Lorenz, but no one he had kissed before made Sylvain’s heart race and his mind go pleasantly fuzzy quite like Lorenz.

Sylvain’s heart managed to race even faster when he felt Lorenz smile against his lips, something that Sylvain had never experienced with anyone else before. It was an incredible feeling, knowing that just kissing him made Lorenz happy, and Sylvain’s lips also curled upwards.

“Hey, lover-boys! Do you really have to suck face in front of us?” Dorothea yelled, followed by an exasperated sigh from Ingrid. Sylvain laughed when he pulled away from Lorenz, who flushed a bright red as he hid his face against Sylvain’s shoulder. Chuckling, Sylvain placed a quick kiss on the top of Lorenz’s head before grabbing his hand again and they waded over to the ladies.

“C’mon, don’t be jealous now!” Sylvain grinned when Dorothea burst out laughing.

“Oh please. How could I be jealous when I’m dating the most beautiful woman around?” Dorothea said, draping an arm over Ingrid’s shoulders and placing a kiss on her cheek. Ingrid giggled as she returned the kiss, and Sylvain couldn’t help but smile. Ingrid and Dorothea had hit it off really well as soon as they met, and absolutely no one was surprised when they started dating shortly after. They really made a good-looking couple.

“So, fellas,” Dorothea said, a sly smirk crossing her face, “how about we play a little game of chicken? Losers have to go and buy drinks for the winners.”

“Oh sick! I’m totally in!” Sylvain said, grinning at Lorenz, who chuckled and confidently placed a hand on one hip.

“Well, I was never one to back down from a challenge, so I’m in too.”

“Alright, you’re on!” Ingrid said, and soon the two couples were ready for their match, with Dorothea on Ingrid’s shoulders and Lorenz on Sylvain’s, with each of them armed with a pool noodle.

“Ready...Go!” Dorothea yelled, and the game was on. Dorothea was relentless with her attacks from the start, and Lorenz had to take a defensive stance for a bit. But he was patient, and with Sylvain as a very sturdy base, Lorenz managed to get in a few good hits at Dorothea, and eventually he sent her tumbling from Ingrid’s shoulders.

“Yes! Way to go, babe!” Sylvain shouted, letting Lorenz down from his shoulder and giving him a celebratory kiss. Lorenz ran a hand through his hair and chuckled.

“But of course this should happen! Against the combined might of Sylvain Gautier and Lorenz Gloucester, no one stands a chance!”

“You got that right!”

“Alright, alright, we get it. God, you two are insufferable.” Dorothea rolled her eyes, but a smile soon crossed her face and she sighed. “I guess we’ll go and grab you some drinks after we dry off.”

After spending a bit more time in the water, the four eventually returned to shore and basked in the sun to dry off. When Dorothea left to go get the drinks, Lorenz went with her, as he was curious to see what the rest of the beach looked like. As Sylvain watched his boyfriend walk off, Ingrid sat down next to him on his towel.

“So,” she started, smiling as she raised a curious eyebrow, “How are you and Lorenz doing?” Sylvain smiled at her as he leaned back and propped himself up on his elbows.

“Great, actually. I’m...really surprised at how well everything is going,” Sylvain answered honestly. Ingrid had been his best friend for as long as he could remember. Because of that, she had been the person that he confided in when he first realized that he had feelings for Lorenz. She had been shocked, unsurprisingly, but also wholeheartedly supportive and had played a big role in giving Sylvain the confidence needed to tell Lorenz how he felt.

“That’s so awesome. I’m really happy for you!” Ingrid smiled, but it faded slightly as her brow furrowed. “Do...your parents know?”

“Oh hell no,” Sylvain blurted out immediately, his face paling slightly at the very thought. Sylvain was very thankful that his parents had never really been interested in the internet or social media, or they would have found out about his relationship rather quickly. Sylvain was also careful to block anyone who was close with his parents that also was not a trusted friend. The less they knew, for now, the better.

Ingrid winced as she placed a hand on Sylvain’s arm. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Sylvain shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

“Nah, it’s cool. Just a...touchy subject.”

“Yeah…”

They were silent for a moment, before Ingrid continued. “I’m happy you guys get to finally spend some time together and go on some actual dates.”

“Same. Don’t get me wrong, the sex is great and all, but it’s always good to do some innocent couple things too.” Sylvain laughed when Ingrid groaned and smacked his arm.

“Ugh, that’s way too much information, Sylvain!”

“Heh, sorry!”

“No you’re not!”

“You’re right.” Sylvain managed to dodge Ingrid’s attempted smack this time and they both laughed. When they composed themselves, Sylvain’s expression turned oddly serious.

“Hey, Ingrid…” Sylvain said, pausing for a moment as he chewed on his bottom lip, “You...love Dorothea, right?”

“Well, yeah.” Ingrid watched Sylvain with curious eyes, and he averted his gaze as he rubbed nervously at his arms.

“When did you know that you loved her?”

“Uh…” Ingrid went quiet, her brow scrunching up in thought as she gazed down at her lap. After a moment, Ingrid looked back up at Sylvain with a bright smile on her face.

“It’s kinda hard to explain, I guess I just...felt it?” Ingrid shrugged and let out a sheepish laugh. “It was, like, three months after we started dating. We were walking home from a party, just a little bit tipsy, and we stopped to look at the stars along the river.”

Ingrid giggled, a wistful smile crossing her face as her cheeks turned pink. “Dorothea looked really pretty that night, and I dunno...I just knew then that she was even more special that I had realized. And I told her I loved her.”

“And? What did she say?”

“Well, she said she loved me too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Ingrid said, “In fact, she said that she was also thinking about saying it too, but I beat her to it.” Sylvain smiled at that, and he placed a hand on Ingrid’s shoulder.

“That’s so cute, I might just throw up.” Sylvain laughed when Ingrid rolled her eyes and flicked his nose.

“Whatever, lover-boy Why the sudden serious question, though?” Sylvain felt his face heat up as Ingrid stared at him, a knowing smile on her face that told him that she already knew the answer.

“I…” Sylvain swallowed thickly and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I think I love Lorenz. Like, I really love him.” The words felt weird to finally say, after the thought had been festering at the back of his mind for a week or so by now. Sylvain had tossed the word ‘love’ around haphazardly before, not really thinking too much about his words hurting anyone or if he even actually was in love.

This time was totally different, though. This wasn’t just throwing out the word like nothing. This was a deep feeling, one that Sylvain felt every time he gazed into Lorenz’s beautiful eyes, or held his hand in his, or cried his name during sex, or any multitude of seemingly mundane things that they did together. And that list only grew as time went on, until Sylvain was forced to consider the fact that this could be what it really felt like to be in love.

“Oh my god,” Ingrid blurted out, trying and failing to suppress the excited squeal that escaped from her, “That’s so exciting! Has Lorenz told you he loves you yet?”

“Ah, no…” Sylvain’s face fell as he worried his lip between his teeth. “Do you think it’s too soon? Should I wait for him to say it first? What if he doesn’t-”

“Sylvain.” Ingrid interrupted him, a soft smile crossing her face as she gently took his hands. “Tell him. He might say it back, or he might not be ready, but I really think that being completely honest with your feelings as soon as possible would be your best bet.” A smile slowly spread across Sylvain’s face again and he let out a relieved sigh.

“Alright...I think I can do that,” he said, and Ingrid nodded in agreement.

“Just remember, I’m always rooting for you!”

“Thanks, Ingrid.” Sylvain wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, and Ingrid gladly hugged him in return.

“We’re back!”

Sylvain let go of Ingrid as Dorothea and Lorenz returned, with some rather tasty-looking drinks in their hands. Ingrid stood up to head back to her and Dorothea’s spot, glancing briefly over her shoulder to give Sylvain a wink of encouragement, which he greatly appreciated.

“Hey, say cheese, lover-boys!” Dorothea held up her phone, and Sylvain immediately pulled Lorenz to his side, pressing a kiss to his cheek as Dorothea took a picture.

“Damn, you guys take a really cute couple’s pic.” Dorothea giggled as she showed them the picture, and Sylvain’s eyes lit up. Lorenz just looked...so happy. His face was lit up with a close-eyed, toothy smile as Sylvain’s lips touched his slightly flushed cheek. God damn, Sylvain felt like a really lucky guy right now.

“Ah, here Sylvain, they were having a special at the bar.” Lorenz said, and Sylvain shifted closer to Lorenz and placed another kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks, babe! It looks pretty good.” Sylvain took the fancy glass that Lorenz offered him and examined the contents. The green-blue liquid was pretty to look at, and the heaping scoop of ice cream that topped it off looked absolutely delicious, especially paired with the bright red edible flowers and cherries that surrounded it.

Sylvain couldn’t wait to taste it, so he brought the straw to his lips and took a sip, a pleased hum rumbling through his chest as the deliciously cool drink hit his tongue. Sylvain guessed that it was made with some kind of melon liquor, and maybe some blue raspberry schnapps? Whatever it was, Sylvain wholeheartedly approved of it.

“Damn, this is great!” Sylvain said, sucking down a few more gulps.

“Really? I guess I should try it, then.”

“Yeah, you’ll really like it-” Sylvain turned his head towards Lorenz, but the rest of his words were swallowed up when Lorenz suddenly pressed his lips to his own. Sylvain's shocked squeak was muffled, and he felt his face flush when Lorenz’s tongue shoved its way into his mouth and brushed against his own. When Lorenz pulled away, Sylvain’s jaw went slack and his brain felt a bit like it had turned to mush.

“Hmm,” Lorenz hummed as his tongue poked out and swiped over his lips, and Sylvain’s heart hammered hard in his chest at the rare, mischievous glint in his boyfriend’s eyes, “My my, this might actually be the most delicious thing that I’ve ever tasted.” Lorenz’s voice dropped low as he spoke, and Sylvain could only stare pathetically at him in response.

Chuckling softly, Lorenz gently took a hold of Sylvain’s chin and carefully examined his face. “It’s quite rare to see you so flustered, Sylvain, but it’s really a sight that I enjoy a lot.” Plucking a flower from his glass, Lorenz gently slipped it behind Sylvain’s ear, somehow causing his face to heat up even more than it already had. Sylvain finally snapped back to his senses and pouted as Lorenz laughed again.

“Geez, you’re the worst…” Sylvain grumbled, but he couldn’t help but snicker, and soon he was laughing along with Lorenz. Damn, Sylvain really did love him, huh? It was so, so obvious now.

“Hey, Lorenz, I-” Sylvain leaned over to get closer, but he accidentally bumped Lorenz’s arm that held his drink, and half of it spilled all over Lorenz.

“Whoops, sorry!” Sylvain cringed and moved to wipe up the mess with his towel. Lorenz shivered and pursed his lips.

“Eugh, I’m all sticky now…” Lorenz complained, and Sylvain snorted.

“Heh, that’s what she said.”

“Oh my god, fuck off.”

Sylvain burst out laughing as Lorenz just groaned and rolled his eyes. When Sylvain recovered, he eyed Lorenz for a moment and shrugged.

“Well, I guess I better help you clean that sticky mess off.”

“What are you-”

Lorenz was cut off as he yelped when Sylvain hoisted him over his shoulder and started sprinting off towards the water. Ignoring his startled yelling, Sylvain quickly made it to deep water and wasted no time in pulling Lorenz under with him.

The water was incredibly clear, so Sylvain easily opened his eyes so that he could locate Lorenz. When he did, he swam up beside him, trying his best not to laugh at the sour look on his face and waste his breath. Sylvain thought that he looked beautiful, with his flawless skin shimmering in the refracted light, and his purple hair floating lazily around him. Sylvain reached out and brushed his fingers gently over Lorenz’s cheek, and the smile that crossed his face made Sylvain’s heart skip a beat.

Wrapping one hand around Lorenz’s waist to pull him close, and grabbing his hand with the other, their lips met in a tender, underwater kiss. Sylvain had never kissed someone underwater before, and it was a pretty thrilling experience. Careful not to instinctively breath through his nose, Sylvain deepened the kiss, and their legs tangled together as they both clumsily tread water. Sylvain kinda wished that they could stay like this forever.

Unfortunately, both Sylvain and Lorenz could not breath underwater, so they eventually had to part and go up for air. Sylvain took a few, deep breaths when he resurfaced, and he immediately reached out to grab Lorenz and pull him close.

“Hey, Lorenz?” Sylvain asked, and he waited patiently until Lorenz had caught his breath and turned to look at him.

“Yes?” Sylvain sucked in a calming breath as he steeled himself for what he was about to say, and he brought his face close to Lorenz’s, his amber eyes staring deep into those beautiful amethyst ones.

“I...I love you, Lorenz.”

Sylvain watched with bated breath as Lorenz just stared at him for a moment, before his face flushed pink and he sputtered for a moment. Sylvain had to snort to keep from laughing outright at the sight.

“You mean-Are you-Y-You...love me?” Lorenz stammered, and Sylvain smiled softly as he nodded, bringing a hand up to cup his face.

“Yep, I really do.” Sylvain’s voice dropped to a whisper, and the bright smile that crossed Lorenz’s face took his breath away.

“I...wow,” Lorenz said, his jaw hanging open as he blinked rapidly a few times, “Oh god, I’ve never been this nervous before, I just, ah…”

“You’re a mess, babe,” Sylvain said bluntly, and he couldn’t help but laugh this time as Lorenz pouted at him.

Lorenz took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, before a serious look appeared in his eyes and they locked with Sylvain’s. “I am...really happy to hear that, Sylvain, because, well, I love you too.”

“Really?” Sylvain was honestly surprised at that; he didn’t really expect Lorenz to have fallen that fast for him. Sylvain averted his gaze for a moment as he thought back to his conversation with Ingrid.

“You don’t...have to say it if you don’t feel it yet, I just, well, wanted to be honest with you…” Sylvain mumbled, but Lorenz just laughed and shook his head. He reached over to cup Sylvain’s face, and he placed a gentle kiss on his lips, pressing his forehead against Sylvain’s when he pulled away.

“Sylvain, dear, I wouldn’t just say that to anyone,” Lorenz began, his arms falling from Sylvain’s face so that he could snake his arms around his neck, “Honestly, I have felt this way for a bit now, and I was just waiting for the right moment to tell you.”

Sylvain beamed at that; it was true that Lorenz didn’t seem like the type to just throw that powerful, four letter word about all willy-nilly, unlike he himself had done in the past. Sylvain breathed out a sigh of relief and kissed Lorenz again, and again, and a couple more times, until Lorenz was laughing against his lips.

“Geez, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so relieved before.” Sylvain smirked when Lorenz rolled his eyes.

“That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Nope! I might have just up and died if you didn’t say you loved me back!”

“Ugh, you drama king.”

“Psh, you’re one to talk.”

They both burst out laughing at that, and Sylvain wrapped his arms around Lorenz, still laughing as he rest his chin on his shoulder. Lorenz returned the hug, and Sylvain closed his eyes when he felt his slender fingers running through his hair.

“I love you.” The words seemed to come so easily now, as Sylvain whispered them into Lorenz’s ear, “You really are unlike anyone I’ve ever met before. I just...god, I just love you.”

Lorenz’s arms tightened around him as he pulled away slightly, enough so that he was gazing fondly upon Sylvain’s face as he caressed his cheek with the back of his hand. “I love you too. You really are one of a kind, Sylvain.

“That’s so fucking cheesy.”

“...Shut up.”

“Hey, lover-boys! You’re gonna get wrinkly if you stay in the water for too long!”

Dorothea’s voice snapped said lover-boys out of their own little world, and they snickered as they started making their way to shore. Cheesy or not, Sylvain had never felt such an overwhelming happiness before, and it was all thanks to his once-insufferable roommate, who was quickly turning out to be the love of his life. It was quite funny how things worked out sometimes, and Sylvain was looking forward to a summer full of fun alongside the man that he loved.

[stupidsexyseguin]

Soulmate AU for any of your ships where whatever one person writes on their skin appears on the other's.

this got out of hand. it was going to be like 3 paragraphs of Justin Schultz/Olli Maatta feels. i dedicate it to @jjustinschultz who was a great source of feedback and justin schultz trivia.

Justin is fifteen the first time writing appears on his skin. It’s not even writing, it’s a massive, jagged streak of blue texta that draws itself into being when he’s sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal. His mom drops her mug in surprise at the sight of it, before she’s smiling at Justin so wide, taking his face between warm palm and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

She’s so happy for him.

The Schultz’ haven’t had a child born with a soulmate in four generations. Soulmates are not so rare that they’re scarce, but not everyone is born with one. Scientist have been studying correlation and cause and effect and genetic predisposition for years and still don’t know how it’s determined.

So when Justin’s soulmate manages to transfer their half assed body art attempt across to his skin, it’s the universe sending him a sign that his perfect other half is out there- and is apparently an aspiring artist. He heads into school with an indelible blue mark on his skin and he’s never felt so happy in his life.

Until it all comes crashing down at hockey practice.

They’re in the locker room, changing into gear and shooting the shit- most of the guys saw his marks at school (the blue line blurring away around lunch, being quickly replaced with messily drawn red stars up and down his wrist. Justin had spent most of history carefully colouring in the stars with black biro, smiling to himself as new ones had started piecing themselves slowly together after every one he filled in.

“So you have a girl now Schultzy?” One of the wingers is smirking at him from across the room, the rest of the guys glance at him in interest- none of them have soulmates, so Justin is for once the centre of attention.

“I guess.” He doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes and keeps pulling on his gear.

“What’s her name then? D’ya think she’s hot?” he feels like hot lead is sinking in his stomach. Because he knows. He knows there is no way his soulmate is a girl. Because Justin- Justin doesn’t like girls. Has never liked girls.

When the guys in the locker room talk about their girlfriends and hot chicks they’ve seen and sex they’ve had, Justin’s kept quiet. Because when he lay in bed at night, he didn’t think about soft breasts and curves and thighs- he thought about strong shoulders and hard bodies. He thought about boys at school he’d seen and how it might feel to kiss them, to grind into them, to know what it felt like to get on his knees for them.

“I dunno, she’s just been drawing on me.” He trains his eyes on his stall, pulling on his jersey. It feels like deceit. It feels like he’s somehow betraying his soulmate.

“Ooooh, an artist. Fucking fancy.” his D partner teases, and Justin forces himself to smile and check him in the shoulder.

All the excitement from the morning about his soulmate is gone by the time he gets home. He manages to make his way through dinner- his mom’s made his favourites, and tells him about how happy all the family is for him, his dad pats him on the back and asks if he’s learned anything about his soulmate and his brother just ignores him in favour of texting his friends.

In his room though, he lies in the dark and stares at the ceiling. Because he can’t be gay and play in the NHL. And he wants to play in the NHL. It’s his dream to play in the NHL.

But there are no out, gay, NHL players. Hockey is inherently homophobic and he’s known that enough to keep his sexuality quiet- but how does he do that when he comes with an obviously male soulmate?

So he makes the decision.

Hockey players don’t tend to last past 35.  

And then he has the rest of his life to have his soul mate.

It’s been a really fucking long day.

Practice had been hard, everyone pushing themselves to do better. Always do better.

last year had been a fucking shitshow, and it obviously weighed on everyone. The oilers had had some great wins, but they’d been scattered between even worse losses. Justin himself hadn’t had that bad a season, comparatively, but it still felt like the entire fucking franchise was resting on every player’s shoulders.

And now they’re four games into the season and yet to register a fucking win.

He’d been planning on throwing himself on the couch, napping, and maybe seeing if Ebs wanted to hang out and play some NHL15.

Until he’d dragged off his shirt and seen the writing his soulmate had left in unusually shaky red pen.

Please call.

1 412 555 0188

It’s American- he knows that much from the calling code. Which- his soulmate is in America? But Justin knew that he was Finnish- had spent years reading shopping lists and homework reminders on his wrists in messy foreign script. He’d even taught himself enough to say hello and goodbye to his soulmate, because he’d felt so slack when his soulmate had been able to talk to him in pretty decent english and Justin couldn’t do the same in return.

It takes him an hour to decide if he’ll call or not- they hadn’t ever discussed meeting, or even talking in person. Justin had made his choice ten years ago. And his soulmate had never even suggested it- Justin had assumed he was in a similar position, needing to stay closeted in order to stay safe. Even with the knowledge of soulmates, hockey is still as homophobic and hyper masculine as it had been ten years ago. He knows most of his friends wouldn’t care, but he hears half the shit guys on the team- and the teams they play- say and he doesn’t want to expose himself to that, let alone a soulmate who didn’t deserve that shit on his behalf.

But he’s asking Justin to call.

After ten years of being happy to just have notes and stupid pictures between them, drawing and colouring stupid pictures of dragons and knights and, more recently, penguins, he’s asking Justin to call.

It must be important.

The phone rings six times. Justin counts. He’s holding his breath. He’s going to talk to the person the universe thinks is his perfect other half. After ten years of knowing that he’s out there.

“…Hello?” The guy that answers is hesitant, voice small and strained.

“Hi. It’s- I’m Justin. You, you asked me to call?” There’s a hitch of breathing on the other end of the phone, and Justin can’t tell if the guy’s happy that he’s actually called or not.

“Hi.” The guy breaths across the line.

“Hi.” Well. Now he sounds like a fucking idiot.

“Oh, fuck, shit.”  The guy swears and Justin hears what sounds like a body part thunking on wood down the line. “I- Olli, I’m Olli. fuck. I, I wasn’t expecting you to actually call.” His voice is deep and his vowels are rounded with the faintest hint of a european accent. But he also sounds really fucking upset. Justin’s so glad he called, if it means he can help his soulmate- his Olli- feel better.

“Hey, are you okay?” there’s another hitch of breath, followed by a muffled sob

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I just really wanted to hear your voice.”

“What- I’m not mad or anything. I’m just worried about you- are you okay?”

“Not- not really.” Olli lets out an almost hysterical laugh.

“Do you want to tell me? I’m happy to listen?” And it’s the honest truth. This is his soulmate. He could listen to Olli happily all day.

“I have cancer.”

His chest feels like it’s caving in- as if something punched him hard and left him breathless and desperate for air.

“Fuck. what-?”

“It- they’re saying it isn’t that bad. Could be worse. Found it in a physical and did some tests.”

“So, you’re- you’re going to be okay? Right?”

“The doctors said I’ll be fine. They want to remove the tumor, but it hasn’t spread anywhere else. I just,” he takes a deep, wet sounding breath “I realised that it could have been so much fucking worse. And I had never even heard your fucking voice. Didn’t even know your name. Justin.” and- fuck, the way he says Justin’s name is just. Everything. Everything he didn’t know he needed.

“Yeah, I get that. Olli. I’m- so glad you’ll be okay.” Olli laughs through the line, the sound still clouded with what Justin knows now have to be tears.

“Me too. Thank you. For calling.”

“Of course. Anything for you. You’re- you’re important Olli. Any time you want to talk, if I can, I’ll listen.”

“You don’t even know me.” but he does. He knows that Olli loves to draw, but is a kind of terrible artist. That Olli is Finnish. That he seems to love hockey as much as Justin does. That he’s terrible at history but has a weird love for math. That he enjoys terrible knock knock jokes. That he wants to get them a tattoo, but changes his mind about it every other week, drawing new lines and words across justin’s skin to get his opinion.

Justin’s had ten years to learn Olli through his body- even if today was the first time he learned his name.

“I know the universe thinks you should be important to me. That’s enough.”

“You sound like a fucking romantic, man.” Olli laughs at him again, and Justin smiles fondly at it. He sounds so much better than he had when he’d answered the phone. And if he sounds like a fucking romantic, well who fucking cares; he kinda is.

“Ha, you wish.”

They spend the next hour on the phone, talking shit, mostly about video games- Olli’s been playing Call of Duty, and thinks Justin needs to actually play it instead of just giving it shit while Justin’s hanging out for the next Halo game. They’ve been playing NHL15, which leads to talking about the actual season, and Justin is careful not to say anything too revealing about his place on the Oilers.

And it’s the happiest Justin’s felt in years. He and Olli just click. And he knows Olli must feel fucking terrible- the guy has fucking cancer- so Justin is just glad he can help, can be there for him, help him laugh when it must feel like the end of the world.

“I- I need to go.” Olli tells him

“Oh.” Justin looks at the clock and realises how long he’s just been sitting there talking. But he doesn’t think it’s enough. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of Olli.

“No! I just- I have to get to the- to work.” Olli sounds hesitant now, like he has something else he wants to say, but doesn’t know how Justin will take it.

“Oh, right.” Justin licks his lips and rubs at his scruff “You can- you can call me whenever you want. I may not always be able to answer, but I promise I’ll call back.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“That-. Thanks. You too. You should call me.”

“I will.”

When Justin hangs up, he wonders if this will work. If he can actually have this. Let himself have this. Olli- he’s just fucking great. And he deserves someone to support him through all the shit he’s going through.

It feels like defeat.

Moving to Pittsburgh feels- hollow.

He’d been expecting the trade. He knows he’d been fucking up, been letting down everyone in Edmonton. He’d heard it from the coaching staff, in the way they talked to him at training sessions and practices. He’d seen it in the way his teammates had started pulling away, until the only one really speaking with him like everything was fine was Ebs. He’d heard it from the fucking fans how badly he was fucking everything up for them. Sending their hopes and dreams down the fucking drain.

But it didn’t actually get real until the rumours had started flying around near the end of the trade deadline. He’d sat around on his couch that last day, waiting for the call he knew would be coming.

So when he gets to Pittsburgh he isn’t expecting the welcome that he receives.

They all just seem so pleased to see him.

Crosby had called him after the trade, telling him that they were looking forward to having him, but he hadn’t realised that it was actually the truth. Because then Cole had been really fucking nice since he’d picked him up from the airport- had taken him out to dinner with his wife, picked him up from the hotel he’d been staying in the next morning to drive him to practice, spent the entire time talking about how the coaches thought they’d work well together, how great the team was, how Justin would be a great addition to the team.

When Cole had led him into the locker room, he’d been greeted by smiles and friendly nods, and Patric Hornqvist had actually given him a fucking bear hug before inviting him out for drinks.

Horny takes him under his arm, with a snort from Cole who just heads to his own stall to get changed, and starts loudly introducing all the guys. He’s giving Hagelin a ribbing, Fleury and Letang chiming in like good natured assholes, while Justin looks on when a blonde, built guy saunters in. His hair is a mess and there are dark bruises under his eyes, and Justin recognises him as one of the other D-men, Maatta.

A cheer sounds from some of the younger guys as he sets his things down and starts stripping. Justin has to force himself to look away when he realises he’s staring at the line of the guy’s muscled back. Lockerroom rules.

“Olli! We were worried you died, after last night’s tournament.” Rust crows at the Maatta, and Justin jumps at the unexpected name.

“Fuck off.” comes the grumpy response, muffled by pads. Justin’s sure he’s staring now. He feels like all his blood is both rushing to his head and leaving his body at the same time. He knows that voice.

He knows that voice.

He’s heard that voice at least once a week, every week, for the past year and a half.

“Ha ha, don’t be scared of Olli! He just drinks more than he can handle.” Horny claps Justin on the shoulder, startling him out of his shock. Justin gives the guy a weak smile, but he feels like the rug has been pulled out from under him. It’s his first fucking practice and everything had been going so well and now Olli is here and Justin has no idea what he’s supposed to do.

It’s his soulmate.

Olli.

Olli is standing right there, right in front of him, and Justin can’t do anything about it.

Because he’s a hockey player. They’re both hockey players. Teammates.

“Olli, be nice to Justin- Schultzy’s joining us D-men to hold up this fucking team.” Tanger chimes in.

Olli turns and meets his eyes, and Justin feels his heart kickstart in his chest. 

“Hey, man.” he smiles and all Justin can do is nod and smile back.

Practice is- it’s practice.

It’s weird to be playing with a new group of guys- they don’t click right away- but he can feel something there that he’d been missing back in Edmonton. Something that could be really fucking good.

He tries so hard to block out the thought of Olli being his soulmate, not let it screw with his skating. He has no idea if he was successful or not. He hopes it’s written off as post-trade jitters.

The rest of the guys have a game that night, but Justin’s still a healthy scratch until the coaches are sure how he works with the guys. They hope he’ll be out there in the next few games. Everyone seems so positive. It’s like a weight is slowly lifting from his shoulders.

He expects Colesy to be giving him a ride back to the hotel, so he’s surprised when Olli’s the one who approaches him with his bag and gear slung over his shoulder.

“I told Colesy I’d take you. The guys from Wilkes-Barre are staying at your hotel, but I thought you might want a bit of quiet.” He smiles at Justin, and Justin just nods helplessly, gathering up his own stuff.

The drive is quiet, there’s local radio playing in the car, but if you asked, he couldn’t tell you what was playing- he spends the whole time watching Olli; the strong lines of his body, the softness of his face, the way the bones and muscles in his hands shift under skin as he changes gears. If Olli notices, he doesn’t say anything.

Eventually they’re at the hotel, at the door to his room, and neither of them has said anything since leaving the practice centre. He can feel the weight of Olli’s gaze on the back of his neck and it feels like he’s on fire. He fumbles the key card and it takes him three attempts to open door and get inside.

Justin turns, mouth opening to say- something, anything- and instead finds himself being kissed quiet by ice-chapped lips. He loses himself to the kiss. It’s nothing passionate or heated or in anyway sexy. It’s just warm lips against his own; a gentle pressure, a sweet warmth, curling up inside him and wrapping around his heart.

Oli pulls away and Justin follows, not wanting it to end so soon, he’s being laughed at, which is when he realises that his eyes are still closed. Olli- Olli is everything he wanted and never knew. He’s so soft and warm and lovely and funny. He’s pretty and strong and loves hockey as much as Justin loves hockey. He’s standing right in front of Justin, in his hotel room, in Pittsburgh. Running his fingers through Justin’s hair, sliding hands down his neck, his shoulders, his chest.

He opens his eyes and Olli’s still there. Right in front of him. Smiling at him fondly.

“Hi.” he presses his forehead to Olli’s.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Olli’s laughing at him again, and it feels like sunshine in his bones. He can’t help but kiss him again.

Things are looking up.

[salmonfact78-blog]

Flyers 'not taking any s---' from Penguins

Flyers 'not taking any s---' from Penguins originally appeared on nbcsportsphiladelphia.com

BOX SCORE

PITTSBURGH - It actually all started with a gentleman's agreement. 

A minute and 15 seconds after Sidney Crosby gave Pittsburgh an early 1-0 lead on the opening shift of Saturday night's game, Wayne Simmonds asked Penguins hulking defenseman Jamie Oleksiak to engage in a fight knowing he was surrendering five inches in height and 60 to 70 pounds in weight.

If this was a WBO-sanctioned event, it would have been a welterweight stepping into the ring against a heavyweight. Still, Simmonds did what needed to be done at that stage of the game.

"I just went up and I asked him immediately and I was happy he said, ‘Yeah,'" Simmonds said. "I remember playing them in the playoffs last year and trying to get him to go and he wouldn't [fight me]. I know he's a big boy. I know he can handle himself well, so I think at that point in the game, not even two minutes into the game, if I'm gonna get one, I'm gonna get it then."

From that moment, the Flyers sent the message that Saturday night wasn't going to be a replay of the previous week, when they waved the white flag in a 6-0 loss to the Maple Leafs. This time, it was a 4-2 win over their rival (see observations). 

Penguins coach Mike Sullivan didn't back down either when asked pointedly if that fight swung momentum in the Flyers' direction. 

"[Oleksiak] did the right thing. It gave us life, too," Sullivan said. "We had a great start. For me, they can talk about that all they want, it gave us life, too. Jamie did a great job of sticking up for our team."

Less than four minutes after Simmonds' fisticuffs, Travis Konecny, the Flyers' "piss pot" that former GM Ron Hextall labeled earlier in the week, answered with a breakaway goal to tie the game and send a statement this was going to be different from the six-game playoff series in April.

"We knew it was going to be like this, especially after the way our season ended last year against these guys," Konecny said. "I kind of feel like whenever we play them, they think they have this swagger over us, so it's just not going to happen anymore."

"I didn't even realize T.K. scored and he f---ing scored, I was pretty pumped," said Simmonds, who was getting treated in the locker room for his fight when Konecny tied the game. 

The Penguins had every reason to feel overly confident against the Flyers. Not only did Pittsburgh eliminate the Flyers in six games in the opening round of the 2018 Stanley Cup Playoffs, winning convincingly 7-0, 5-0 and 5-1 in three of those victories, but the Pens also swept the Flyers in all four regular-season games, scoring five goals in each of the contests.

"I think it had to do with today. I think our guys wanted to get that swagger back," head coach Dave Hakstol said. "We had a little bit of a burn in our saddle coming in here. I'm sure a little bit of it is a carryover from the playoff series last year, but I think it's more about what's happening today with this hockey team." 

Over the years, the Flyers have proven to be successful when they play with a controlled snarl. One particular shift personified old-school Flyers hockey when Radko Gudas leveled Sidney Crosby twice on the same shift. Had that sequence played out at the Wells Fargo Center, Flyers Nation would have erupted at the sight of seeing No. 87 on his backside.

"I was excited that I did, he's a really good player and it doesn't happen too often that he gets hit like that," Gudas said. "I was fortunate enough that I was waiting for him to cut back and lucky for me he did."

Throughout the game, it was typical Flyers-Penguins bad blood. Crosschecks after the whistle. Talking smack after a stoppage in play. Matching minors between Dale Weise and Evgeni Malkin for unsportsmanlike conduct. A little hate was exactly what a desperate Flyers team needed. 

"We're at our best when we have guys sticking up for one another," Anthony Stolarz said. "You saw a couple of scrums by the benches. Guys not taking any s--- from anyone, just stepping up for each other and standing up for each other. That's what makes a good team."

Click here to download the new MyTeams App by NBC Sports! Receive comprehensive coverage of your teams and stream the Flyers, Sixers and Phillies games easily on your device.

More on the Flyers

Source: https://sports.yahoo.com/flyers-not-taking-penguins-050654428.html?src=rss

[hopeisxverything]

Desperate Housewives Season 1 Sentence Meme

Feel free to change pronouns, etc. if you want!

“I know someone who knows someone who knows an elf.”

“I will call Santa and tell him you want socks for Christmas.”

“We all have moments of desperation, but if we can face them head on, that’s when we find out how strong we really are.”

“It tastes like it’s burnt and undercooked.”

“I’m very big with the under five set.”

“Ease up you little vampire.”

“Every time I’m around that man, he tries to grab my ass.”

“Apologize now I am begging you."

“You’re the one always acting like she’s running for Mayor of Stepford.”

“Not now, honey, Mommy’s threatening Daddy.”

“Tell me again why I fought for custody of you?”

“I just can’t live in this… detergent commercial anymore.”

“It was the sound of a family secret.”

“I’m not feeling the grass!”

“She’ll find a way to survive. We all do.”

“She may be trash, but she’s still a human being.”

“And silverware. Remember silverware?”

“I don’t even have time to wash my face.”

“It’s like a high five on the lips.”

“People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw soda cans.”

“We are raising little terrors, you know that, don’t you?”

“Don’t worry I’m not packing heat.”

“To live in fear is not to live at all.”

“You better get over there. She’s wearing cotton.”

“They’re six years old, make them.”

“She always overcompensates when she’s stressed.”

“You burned your rival’s house down. If that isn’t desperate, then what is?”

“Thank you, that’s the nicest way you could’ve said that.”

“Get her out of here, she’s killing it for the rest of us.”

“Why do I even let you out of the house?"

“I hate that I’m turning you into a little thief.”

“I got a sunburn the other day washing my car.”

“Keep going. I’m mad at you for about 7000 other things.”

“When can I have my door back?”

“Just know that inside, I am quietly but decidedly hating your guts.”

“They won’t make it to their later years if I have to spend all day with them.”

“If another sacrifice has to be made, I think it’s your turn on the merry-go-round.”

“Mom when this is over we need to talk about your parenting skills.”

“Sometimes evil drives a minivan.”

“Perhaps he should shove your head into a locker.”

“I always assumed I’d have sex for the first time before you had it again.”

“What do you know. It’s eighty degrees outside and you’re wearing fur.”

“Oh my God. I just want to slap and shake you.”

“Slow down you jerk! This is a residential neighborhood!”

“I’m going to have to burn every sheet you’ve touched.”

“You look old in that.”

“You’re never gonna be a sailor, what do you care?"

“If you came in here to judge me, you can just leave.”

“Lassie would’ve had a firetruck here by now!”

“I love my kids so much. I am so sorry they have me as a mother.”

“I am so tired of feeling like a failure.”

“Treachery never goes out of style.”

“When I was your age, my pen pal lived on a farm in Ohio, not a mental institution.”

“Our last version of normal had me popping pills. Normal is a bad, bad plan.”

“He hung out in your womb for a few months back in the 80s!”

“If you were my mom I’d smoke pot too!”

“I guess he does sort of have a dorky charm.”

“It’s a constant battle between the better angels of our nature and our inner demons.”

“Sometimes the only way to ward off the darkness is to shine the light of compassion.”

“Fine, fine, be 3’8” for the rest of your life. See if I care?”

“I’m not a mutual fund!”

“She didn’t like worrying. She felt it gave her wrinkles.”

“Trust is a fragile thing.”

“She’s like a roach.”

“We’re not like other families are we?”

“Why couldn’t he have embezzled like other white collar criminals?”

“Please don’t mistake my anal retentiveness for actual affection.”

“You kissed me as though that would end this conversation and it so won’t.”

“My husband won’t admit that he has lust in his heart.”

“It will snow on the hills of hell before I ever

“A more eel would seem safe after you.”

“Well we’re not negotiating my uterus.”

“I hope someday you have lots of children.”

“You’re the man of the house? You can’t even leave it!”

“You know the house isn’t that big, you’re going to have to stop avoiding me.”

“Memories lie.”

“Every once in a while even I want to do the right thing.”

“A lifetime of responsibility isn’t always easy.”

“Sooner or later, we must all become responsible adults.”

“Most mothers will tell you their children are a gift from God. Most mother will also tell you there are some days you wish you could return them.”

“The only reason you have anything in your life is because you’re pretty!”

“That place is so pretentious. I’ve been dying to go.”

“Guys, my hands are tied! Thieves get spanked. That’s just the way it works.”

“Do you know what psychological warfare means? No? Well too bad for you.”

“Let’s just say I’ve put those feelings in a box and I don’t plan on looking at them for awhile.”

“After a few decades whiz by, I’m sure I’ll find a way to forgive him.”

“We’re WASPs. Not acknowledging the elephant in the room is what we do best.”

“No offense, but you’re getting up there in years you probably forget where you put things.”

“Nobody in my family knows or cares where your stupid clock is.”

“I may be stupid enough to shoot myself, but I’m not stupid enough to walk away from you.”

“He’s a teenage boy! We could take away his penis, he’d still try to have sex.”

“Guys, this isn’t a hockey league could you take it outside?”

“I forgot how fun you are when you’re bitter.”

“I’m gonna go take a shower. Jail’s kinda gross.”

“My daughter is considering giving you her virginity and I would consider it a personal favor if you wouldn’t take it.”

“You know I’ve been broke many times in my life, but I’ve never been poor. Because poor is just a state of mind.”

“Throughout even the most respectable of neighborhoods, you can hear the sound of scandal.”

“Awwww, I miss how we used to steal things from each other.”

“Oh sweetie, they didn’t abandon you because you’re a whore. You weren’t all that nice to begin with.”

“I was on vacation. It made sense at the time.”

“What the hell kind of street do we live on?”

“Good friends offer to help in a crisis. Great friends don’t take no for an answer.”

“Everyone loves a scandal. No matter how big or how small.”

“We all honor heroes for different reasons.”

“You talk to him all you want. I’m gonna check out the place with the electrified fence.”

“That sounds kinda formal for a burrito and a soda.”

“You know I so much wanna like you, but you just won’t let me.”

“You have to hand it to the Catholics, they do Greek better than anyone.”

“Would you like a glass of water and maybe an excuse to talk to me?”

“That’s me. Never afraid to create a scene.”

“I used to have all these questions about how you got to be the way you are. They were all just answered.”

“Today I have a chance to rejoin the human race.”

“I know, baby, it hurts to lose.”

“This is the place where good taste goes to die.”

“And tonight, whatever you do, don’t call me beautiful.”

“Some dreams are just too beautiful to come true.”

“I could explain to you what might happen, but I’m a lady and I don’t use that sort of language.”

“I would love you even if you were a murderer.”

“Could you please at least wait for desert before calling our son a sodomite?”

“Honey, I’m hating you a little bit right now.”

“Half of life is obligations.”

“You just threw rocks in her mother’s face!”

“She sorta thinks you’re evil.”

“You’re basically a predator. I need your advice.”

“You’re such a Republican!”

“I plan on getting really fat as a tribute to your mother.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t have love in your life!”

“You are so far out of your league that you’re playing a completely different sport.”

“I can’t have donuts and juice it’s unnatural.”

“Why did you hit the lawn boy?”

“Maybe after lunch, we could talk about your leather beanbag chair.”

“I’m pregnant, caveman, remember?”

“For the last time, I won’t bring my daughter to stalk my boyfriend.”

“If you don’t want to talk to me, fine! At least have the courtesy to hide!”

“Not everyone gets a happy ending.”