#for years i’ve gone through a cycle of ‘holy shit i cannot believe i ever doubted that i might have ocd this is fucking insane’

[bnyrbt]

i think i have ocd bad man

[puckngrind]

What’s In a Name: Finale- J. Toews

Chapter 16.

Where we left off: Jon and Bekah got married in Sedona and are off to their honeymoon after the Blackhawks convention.

Warnings: smut, language

Word Count: 4,390

Series Masterlist ) Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Final.

When Jon finally let it slip they were honeymooning in Iceland after the convention, Bekah was unsure of her husband’s thought process. She expected some beach vacation with their own bungalow but what she got was way more their style. They stayed up to take in the midnight sun, snorkeled in a fault line, skinny dipped in a natural hot spring and made out like no one was watching under a waterfall. They were so hot for each other the couple even missed a guided tour simply because they lost track of time and didn’t get out of bed. Married life was good even with the season starting. Right before training camp Jon drops a package on the counter and retreats to the fridge.

“Tae, whatcha order?” Bekah sipped one her later afternoon coffee.

“Rings.” Jon’s voice echoed from inside the fridge.

“Huh?”

“Take a look Beks.” Jon closes the door and motions towards the package. Inside were maybe a dozen or more silicone bands. “For practice and games, working out... you know when I have the potential of ripping off my finger with the real one.”

“Jon, you didn’t have to... I mean, it’s fine if you go ringless at work.” Bekah sips her coffee and smiles. “As long as you only come home to me.” Jon rounded the counter, pulls out one of the silicone bands, removes his wedding ring and places it on his left ring finger.

“It’s only been you since 2015, Beks, and it will only be you until the day I die.” His lips press firmly onto hers. “I want to have the constant reminder that I have the best wife ever to come home to.” His lips graze hers again.

“Not sure I deserve that reward yet, maybe in a year?” Bekah giggles into Jon’s skin.

Brynn came with Derek when the Blue Jackets played in Chicago. The two hadn’t seen each other since they left Arizona in July. “I still cannot believe you two are married, so damn in love it’s sick, and have these breathtaking wedding pictures already hanging up. I think it took a month to even get our proofs back let alone a framed picture and you have this on a giant canvas.” Brynn’s finger points to Bekah’s favorite picture. Jon’s arms wrapped her, lips pressed to her cheek as her vail flies in the wind. The fact that she doubted being about to get to the spot where they took the picture is funny looking back. She was thankful Jon pushed for it.

It was Christmas before they knew it. The families decided to give the newlyweds the actual holiday to themselves again and came together the weekend before. Bekah told Jon there better not be any surprise gifts in, on, or under the tree. On Christmas Eve she came down the steps to see a blanket laid out in front of the tree with the fire going.

“What’s this Tae?” She kisses her husband who looked pleased with himself.

“I thought we should have our own Christmas tradition that we could do when we have kids.” He dips down and scoops up the wine glasses. “Maybe without the wine.” Bekah sips her glass and takes in the small details Jon put into this picnic.

“Sounds perfect!” They sat down and talked all about the holidays, break, and how the season was going.

“I know you are going home for New Years but very much want my wife with me in Calgary to ring in 2020.” Jon stands to move the plates and wine glasses.

“J, I don’t see why I couldn’t just cut my home trip short?” Bekah leans on her hands watching Jon’s reaction.

“Really? I know you miss it.” He kneels next to her.

“Not as much as I did. Plus, I want to ring in 2020 with you just didn’t want to mess up team bonding.” Jon laughs a little and moves his body on top of hers.

“I think the guys will understand why.” Jon presses his lips to hers and Bekah moans out.

“Wanna go upstairs?” She whispers when their lips break for air.

“Fuck no.” Jon lifts up and pulls off both of their clothes wasting no time making sure Bekah was ready before pressing into her. His movements were slow and intentional. Pulling Bekah’s legs high up so she had to move her hands from pulling at his back to holding her legs up. Jon humming in pure love of the moment. Taking in their highs together Jon still holding tight into his wife.

“So is this also a Christmas tradition there, Tae?” Bekah’s breaths were short as she laughed.

“I think so. Maybe before Santa arrives.” He snickers as he lifts up and grabs another blanket to wrap around them.

“Is Santa coming to our house this year? Dropping off any surprises?” Bekah combs her fingers through Jon’s hair as he lays on her chest.

“Nope. Well, house hunting...” Jon felt Bekah’s reaction to his statement. “We can stay here if you want. It’s up to you.”

They didn’t. Soon after Jon and Bekah returned from Columbus and Calgary the couple found the perfect house close to the city. Moving during the season seemed to be a daunting task but Bekah managed to get the essentials unpacked and hired painters and such to make their home feel like them. All-Star weekend the couple found themselves at home in Winnipeg.

“Beks?” Jon called out after coming in from a run. Bekah told Jon she was going to make cookies while he was gone. “Babe?” He wandered the house and sees her still with her shoes on in bed asleep. He sits down next to her and brushes the hair out of her face. “You okay?” His eyebrows knit together knowing his wife was not a nap type of person however many times he begged her to nap pre-game with him.

“Yeah, just got super tired that’s all.” Bekah’s voice was groggy.

“Yeah, you left the dough out on the counter.” Jon slips back behind her. “Do you think you are coming down with something?” He presses his lips to the back of her head.

“I don’t think so. Maybe... oh... well. Um. Shit. What day is it?” Bekah lifts up suddenly.

“The 23rd. Why Bekah?” Jon sits up behind her.

“I’m two weeks late.” Bekah’s hand covers her mouth realizing what that could mean.

“You mean like late late? As in...” Jon’s arms wrap around Bekah.

“Like maybe you would go get a test... or three.” She looks back at him and she shuffles to his feet and heads to the store. The smell of cookies hit his nose when he walked back in the door. Bekah icing the batch that had cooled.

“So, I know we said we would let nature take its course but that was in November.” Bekah nods, licks the icing off her finger and grabs the bag.

The two waited for the longest two minutes of their lives sitting on the bathroom floor. Bekah’s head rested on Jon’s shoulder. Jon’s hand picked up the stick from the counter. “Ready...” he whispers and Bekah’s shoulders shrug. “Pregnant. Beks!” Jon’s voice picked up and he jumped to his feet placing the test on the counter and scooping his wife into his arms kissing her skin as he walks.

“Tae, what are you doing?” Bekah questions.

“Celebrating knocking my sexy wife up in the first try!” Jon drops Bekah onto the bed and crowds her. Ridding himself of his shirt and pulling on hers.

“It could be a false positive.” Bekah’s hands land on Jon’s chest.

“It’s not.” Jon retorts. “For as long I’ve known you, your cycle has been the most predictable thing about you.” Jon manages to pull Bekah’s shirt off and kisses down to her stomach. “Salut bébé, c'est ton papa.” He whispers into her skin the looks up to see Bekah’s face. “Sorry, maybe I should...” Jon goes to move thinking he changed the mood and Bekah’s hands catch his shoulders.

“Tae, that was a damn turn on. Please... continue.” Jon winks up at her and presses his tongue to her folds lapping up how incredibly wet she was. Bekah’s orgasm ripping through her body like a ball of fire. Her body jolting up away from his mouth which was still working it’s magic.

“Holy shit. J, I need more.” Bekah panted out and Jon’s mouth met her chest as he laid her back down pressing his length deep inside eliciting moans as he rocked.

“Oh. Beks. Beks. I...” Jon huffs as Bekah pulls her body up into his and feels him explode deep inside of her sending shockwaves through out her body. “I love you.” Jon whispers while crashing into her body.

“Same but you are crushing my pelvis.” Bekah wiggles and Jon jumps off her quickly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You are carrying our child.” His hand grazes her stomach.

“Potentially. I need to schedule an appointment for when we are back.” She reaches for her phone and Jon’s hand catches her arm.

“Does your brain ever shut off My Love?” Jon kisses her. “No is the answer. And I want to go. Can you schedule around me?”

Soon after their return home, Jon and Bekah found themselves in her OBGYN’s office listening to their child’s heartbeat. A tear streaming down Jon’s face as Bekah held his hand tight. On the drive home, Bekah broke the comfortable silence. “Can we wait to tell people including family until the second trimester?” Jon’s thumb rubs the back of her hand as he drives.

“Whenever you want Beks.” Jon’s delight evident in his tone.

“I want to tell Rin first but don’t exactly know how.” Bekah inhales quickly as Jon sighs. Brynn and Derek would be the perfect parents but after too many miscarriages to count and an undetermined infertility diagnosis they just stopped trying. Getting pregnant so quickly was going to crush her best friend and she knew it. She watched Brynn at coworker’s baby showers. She hid the pain well but Bekah saw it.

She wanted to tell her best friend in person. What she didn’t expect was the pause and quarantine. Jon came home early March talking about the NHLPA and on the phone not realizing Bekah was laying in the middle of the floor. He stands over her and smiles. “My beautiful wife okay down there?”

“Fat wife that is. And no. They said you could have morning sickness and mine was mid-afternoon sickness which is for the birds THEN they said you feel better in your second trimester and welp... my body feels like I ran a damn marathon and I just moved the rug three feet over. How was your discussion with those people?” Bekah waves her hand around and Jon laughs.

“They want to start zoom calls so I have to think where I could do it here. Plus I think we can go home to Manitoba for a bit if you feel already.”

“Yeah, do it in the kitchen so you don’t have the blow job angle your team Canada buddy did yesterday. I need to call Rin. My body isn’t hiding this baby much longer.” Jon lays down next to her and kisses her cheek.

“Blow job angles. Funny. I don’t need anyone but you thinking of that.” He rolls her body on top of his and she sits up with his hands on her hips. “And you, Mrs. Toews and more beautiful now than the day we met.” Jon’s thumbs rub the small bump appearing on her lower abdomen.

Bekah buzzed around the house while Jon sat on the zoom call. She dropped her phone when she heard him answer the question about what he’s been up to since the last game. After the call ended she stands next to him. “When is that call being published?” Bekah asks with an annoyance in her voice.

“They said in a few days, why Beks?” Jon pulls her into his lap.

“Because you just fucking told the world I’m pregnant and I haven’t even told our families.” Jon’s eyes blow wide.

“Oh fuck! I... I... I didn’t even think about it.” His hand covers his face.

“I need to go FaceTime Rin.” Bekah kissed her regretful husband and retreated to their bedroom.

“How’s my bestie doing in quarantine?” Brynn didn’t even say hi. “What’s that face for?” Bekah sighed.

“I wanted to do this in person so I could hold your hand but damn Covid and shit.” Bekah starts.

“You are pregnant aren’t you?” Brynn pulls a smile across her face.

“How did ya?” Bekah’s eyebrow shoots up. “I am. Due mid-September.”

“I knew you looked different in December but couldn’t place it. You were barely pregnant weren’t you?” Brynn feels the tears coming.

“Yeah. Rin. I... I... I’m sorry.” Bekah whispers.

“Bekah, you don’t have to be sorry. I’m so happy for you and cannot wait to be Auntie Rin!” Brynn wipes her eyes.

“Oh Rin.” Bekah sniffles. “I didn’t know how you would take this.” The friends talked a little more before Bekah hung up and called Kelly who squealed while jumping then realized Bekah’s odd questions in February were pregnancy related. When she returned to Jon he was laying on the couch she asked him to move. “Your parents or mine first?”

“Together?” Jon laughed and they both FaceTimed their mom’s who were overjoyed at the news about being grandparents. Marie had tons of questions regarding Bekah and the baby’s safety while the Toews were busy talking to Jon about their trip home and if Bekah would be safe on the lake’s ice.

With permission from her doctor, the couple returned to Canada and Jon enjoyed rare times with his family but soon realized the couple needed to return to the states. Jon was constantly on the phone with negotiations about return to play throughout the summer.  Laying in bed one night with his head on her growing belly, Bekah could feel he was holding something back.

“Tae, talk.  What’s up?  She ran her hands through his growing hair that she secretly loved while everything was shut down.  

“We’ve been talking about a return to play and that players could opt out.  I think I should since with the baby coming.  I would be gone for most of your last trimester.”  Jon kisses and turns his attention.  “Momma won’t let me open the envelope that says if you are a boy or girl.  Maybe you could help me out, huh?”  Bekah laughs hard that her belly moves.

“I told you with everything else the way it is having a little surprise wouldn’t hurt anyone.  We bought the essentials and Kelly swears her kids were in the white onesies, or naked and wrapped up in a blanket for the first few weeks.  Eating, pooping, and sleeping.”  Jon looks up resting his chin on her stomach.

“Fine.  I’ll wait.  We already have enough Hawks stuff to last about a week.  Plus the girls are ready to socially distance pounce on you once the baby does come.  I do have an important question for you?”

“Yeah?”

“When is sex off the table?”  He bites his lip and Bekah shakes her head.

“Depends on how I feel and where the baby is plus you don’t want to induce labor too early.”

“Soooo.... we can still?”  Jon’s eyebrows dance.

“You want to sex this up?  With my swollen ankles and clothes that no longer fit...”

“You don’t need clothes for what I want to do with you.”  Jon lays next to his wife and pulls her face to his.  “You are beautiful.”  He deepens his kiss and she moans.

“I just look fat Tae.”  Bekah recoils.  “Plus, I need a shower.”  She moves and Jon follows.

“I’ll join you.”  He pulls her body into his while walking to their shower.  

“You seriously want to have sex with me?”  She looks at her naked body in the mirror and over to Jon noticing he was already hard.  

“Not much has changed from last week when I wore your thighs at earmuffs.”  Jon turned on the shower and lead her under the water.  He could physically see Bekah’s shoulders relax under the warm water.  Pulling her breasts into his hands he massaged gently.  “Tell me if it’s too much okay Beks”  He kissed  the back of her neck and his fingers found her entrance.  Using the edge of the shower, Bekah pulled her leg up for easier access to her clit as Jon kissed her skin.  

“Tae.”  She breathed out feeling an orgasm building then she felt the baby.  “Jon!”  Her hand went to her stomach.  “Feel.”  She brought his hand to her belly and Jon felt their child kick his hand.

“Oh wow!  That is maybe the coolest feeling ever.”  Jon kisses Bekah and she feels his hardened cock on her back.  “Does that mean we stop, because...”

“No.  I want you to fuck me.”  Bekah turns around and Jon pulls her body up and slides her onto his length but cannot get situated enough.  “take me to be bed.”  She breathed out.  

“Wet?”  He questioned as he pulls out.

“Yes.”  She wraps her arms around him and he carries them to the bed.  Laying her down carefully and pressing into her as she moves her legs to feel all of him.  With just a few thrusts, Bekah’s orgasm crashes over her and she feels the baby fluttering inside.  “Can I finish you off orally?”  She pants.  

“You don’t have to Beks.  I’m fine.”  She wiggled from under him and he falls onto the mattress.  “Beks... really... I’m... holy fuck.  Don’t stop.”  Jon soon changed his mind when Bekah’s lips wrapped tight around him and he hit the back of her throat.  Sliding easily up and down his length Jon breathed out his approval of her actions and quickly spilled down her throat.  Bekah pops her lips and wipes her mouth as she retreats.  “I have no words.”  Jon huffs out and stares up at Bekah who is now rubbing her stomach.

“Now can you get up so we can change the sheets and go to bed.  This momma to be is tired.”  Bekah stands and Jon strips the wet bed before cuddling his wife.  

With somewhat of an argument, Brynn came to Chicago as Jon entered the bubble.  Jon kissed Bekah’s belly as was leaving, “You cannot make an entrance into the world until Daddy returns or Momma enters the bubble.  Either way, hang out.  Make sure Momma listens to Auntie Rin and cheer on the Hawks.”  Jon lifts up and wraps his arms around his wife.  “Tu es toujours avec moi, mes amours.”  Jon kisses her then pulls away to see the tears build in her eyes.  “Always with me.”  Jon gives instructions to Brynn to make sure Bekah keeps to the doctor’s orders and she calls him if anything happens.

“Go kick some Oiler ass Babe!”  Bekah giggles trying to contain her emotions.

“Why does he have to look so damn sexy and I cannot touch him.  You know these girls are falling all over him.”  Bekah watched the coverage of Jon walking into the arena while Brynn painted her toe nails.

“And that man only has eyes for you.”  Brynn smiled seeing the the way Bekah contorts her face.  

“Yeah, some hot ass media girl is much sexier than the fat cow he left at home.”  Bekah rubs her belly that has grown to the point that she cannot see her feet.  

“Sorry friend, this whole negative self talk has to be your hormones because everyone in the world knows how much that man loves you. Did you see the picture from last game?  You could see your wedding picture on his lock screen.”

“Did he look that good when he left?  And the way he is playing is so fucking sexy.”  Bekah looks at her phone.  “Sorry, baby bird.  Momma will be filtering herself when you arrive next month.”  Brynn laughs.

“He will call.  He always does.”  And like magic Bekah’s phone rings.  Since entering the bubble Jon calls to talk to the baby once a day, and will call Bekah before she goes to bed and before he goes on the ice.

“There is my girl!”  Jon’s voice booms out of the speaker.  

“Hey Tae!  Could you talk to the league and see if they could I don’t know, move your game’s start time before my bedtime?”  This makes both Jon and Brynn laugh.  “I watch you when I get up to pee at around 11 but I hate missing the games live.

“Sure, I’ll just call Gary myself and request a game time change.”  The three laugh.  

“I love you, Tae.  Good luck tonight and go kick some ass.”  She kisses at the phone.  

“I love you, two.”  He blows her a kiss and hangs up to the sounds of heaving coming from Bekah’s feet.

“Yeah, if they lose and he comes home I foresee your labor starting.”  

“Rin, that would be a month early!”  Bekah squeaks out.

“I call it like I see it.  And that man is gonna want his wife when he returns.”  Bekah covered her eyes then starts googling sex in the third trimester.

Jon was home three and a half weeks after he left for Edmonton.  Brynn stayed through the week and then drove back to Ohio with the promise she would be back when Baby Toews was born.  Bekah’s due date came and she was still pregnant.

“This baby is NEVER leaving.”  Bekah walked the stairs for the 10th time that day.

“You’ve made it comfortable.  They want to stay FOREVER.”  Jon laughs while he indulges in his dessert concoction he only eats off season.

“I think I’ve tried everything but sex.”  Bekah leans on the counter and presses her hips back to relive the pressure.  Jon drops the spoon from his mouth.

“Well, I can fucking help with that.”  He pulls Bekah’s arm and practically pushes her up the stairs.  Leaning against the headboard he pats his lap.  “Climb aboard the let’s meet our baby Jonny train.”  He laughs and Bekah scoffs.

“Your dad jokes are just gonna get worse, aren’t they?”  She removes her shorts and climbs onto Jon’s lap.

“Yup!  Now, can we get rid of this?”  He pulls off her old t-shirt that is stretched around her belly.  “And can I play with these?  I don’t think they will belong to me soon.”  Jon leans up to suck in her nipple while cupping her other breast.  Bekah lets go of a gasp.

“Too much.”  She whispered and lifts herself up.  Jon’s hands hold her helps as she lowers herself onto his length.  She presses her hips forward with a sound that was both pleasure and pain.  “It’s not gonna take much to make me.” “Oh good.  Me either.”  Jon pulls her hips forward as her belly hits his abs.  He thrusts slightly up and Bekah goes to move.

“I think if we stand.”  She stands to her feet and Jon comes behind her.  

“Ready?”  He whispered and she nods.  The grunts and moans fill the room quickly.  The pain of her hips and full term baby sitting on her organs was forgotten as their highs crash over them.  Jon leans over and kisses her shoulder blades while he pulls out.  The two stand there for a moment evening out their breaths.  “Beks, did you just pee?”  Jon jumps back.

“No.  My water just broke.”  Bekah turns and gives Jon a look.  “I need to shower I cannot give birth smelling like sex.”  Jon laughs.

“You do that, I’ll go load the car.  Unless you need me?”  He had slight panic sound in his voice that was laced with excitement.  Bekah giggled as she waddled to the shower and Jon grabbed the bags out of the nursery Brynn helped finish while he was gone.

The hospital was waiting for them as they arrived.  Jon started a group text to their moms, Brynn, Kelly, and Alyssa.  Jon sat in the rocking chair waiting for her next contraction.  “You are a rockstar you know?”  Bekah looks over at him while flipping the channel on the tv.  “Nothing like the movies or tv.  You haven’t called me a bastard or anything.”  He smirks at her.

“While I don’t plan on it... I have pushed this giant headed Toews baby out my vagina yet.”  Bekah sees Jon’s Adam’s apple bob.  “And for the sake of our sex life, maybe you shouldn’t watch.”  Jon stands and hold her hand preparing for the next contraction.  She squeezes.

“Oh no, I want to see it all.  Cut the cord.  And I’ll still find you sexy as hell.  You are bringing our child into the world.  I will be impatiently waiting for the doctor to clear you.”  Bekah rolls her eyes as the doctor comes in. 

“It’s go time here!”  The doctor looks up and Jon and and Bekah look each other with excitement.  Bringing a child into the world during a pandemic was difficult but when the moment came and it was just the two of them there was a calmness washed over them.  Bekah crushed Jon’s hand and forearm pushing but he didn’t mind.  When the doctor said one more for the shoulders, Jon leaned over his wife’s leg and watched the most incredible thing in the entire world.  In a spilt second his world completely changed.  

“Tae, is it a boy or a girl?”  Bekah whispers out of breath looking at Jon’s face and the tears welling up.

“It’s a boy, Beks.”  He was handed the scissors and cut the cord.  The nurse patted him dry and goes to hand him to Bekah.  “Daddy holds him first.”  She points and the nurse places Jon’s son in his arms.

“Time of birth, 1am, September 19th.”  The nurse announces.

“It’s the 19th, Jon!”  Bekah looks up at Jon as he passes the baby to his wif.  She holds her son to her chest and kisses his head.  

“Does baby boy Toews have a name?”  The doctor asks as the couple looks at each other and in unison answer...

“Lincoln.”

The End.

[broadstbroskis]

surprises- pt 6 | mat barzal

part 5

Mat’s fingers are tracing patterns over your bump as he lies beside you in his bed and if he doesn’t stop soon, it’s going to be a problem. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” You mumble at him.

He laughs. “Who says I can’t finish? I could go again.”

You turn to look at him, laugh on your lips. “Oh yeah?”

“Give me five minutes.” He says, but you’re not in a rush. Sure, you wouldn’t mind if he moved his hand down lower or if he’d pull you back on top of him like he had earlier in the evening, but since jumping back into bed with him a couple weeks ago, it’s been much each easier to spend time out of bed with him as well. 

Even though, at this moment in time, you are technically in bed with him. 

Mat’s hand stops moving, resting comfortably on your belly, which somehow, the cantaloupe in there seems to recognize as daddy and always takes as a calming influence. It’s one of the few times that they’ll seem to stop moving, when his hand is resting on your or his arm is wrapped around you or even when he’s just talking to you, and tonight is no exception. You can feel your breath start to even out and sleep start to take you, when Mat suddenly whispers, “You should move in with me.”

Well that wakes you up. “What?”

And he’s still quiet, more quiet than you’ve ever heard him, but he doesn’t back down, looking at you with a smile that matches the soft voice he’s speaking in. “You’ve been here every night I’ve been home for the last two weeks. It’s going to be easier for you after the baby to have me closer.” You open your mouth to protest but he continues. “It’s going to be way easier for me to have you close.”

“Mat-” You start, gently reaching out for him, resting your hand on his forearm.

“I don’t know what I’m doing in this.” Mat confesses. “And you just know-”

“I have no clue what I’m doing.”  You admit. “I’m just happy to have you to figure it out with.”

He smiles, that same soft one from before. “Will you at least think about it? Moving in?”

You nod, trying to settle yourself in a new, comfortable position as there’s a kick against your stomach. “Yeah,” You tell him. “I’ll think about it.”

But there’s no response from Mat and when you look over, he looks completely dumbstruck. “Was that-”

You nod, sliding over toward him, even though you can’t guarantee that there will be another one. “Yeah.”

“Holy shit!” He breathes, palm moving as he tries to chase that feeling.

“Baby likes your voice.” You tell him, which makes him beam so wide that it practically lights up the dark room. “You might not feel anything else tonight.”

He kisses you, so soft and gentle that you almost don’t even reciprocate, just barely managing to return it before he’s pulling away. “That’s okay.” He’s still grinning. “I’ll catch it next time.”

He doesn’t take his hand off your belly the entire night, but that does put him in prime position to catch it next time when the baby is up and kicking first thing in the morning.

-----

Following that one time though, Mat becomes increasingly bitter as the baby starts kicking up a storm when literally anyone puts their hand on your stomach except for him. Molly and Tito almost always feel a kick, every time they reach their hands out. Brian, still a little more hesitant than the other two to touch you, gets one pretty frequently. Your brother had visited and gotten to feel, Mat’s parents and sister had stayed for a long weekend and each managed to feel something every day that they were there.

But anytime Mat reached his hand out, his large palm covering like half your huge belly, it was instantly calm. The one time there was no kicking. You were certain that whenever the baby did come out, they were coming out with Mat’s athletic genes; it was a running joke between you and Molly.

“Baby hates me.” Mat whines, lying in bed some other night, his hand resting on your stomach again, after the baby had been actively kicking for Molly, Tito, and Brian at dinner that night. 

“Baby doesn’t hate you.” This is the best part of your day. When the coconut wasn't kicking your ribs or somersaulting around. 

“Hates me.” He insists.

“I told you.” You tell him, moving as close to him as you can, with the bump in the way. “Baby likes the sound of your voice. It’s calming.” That does get him to smile, just a bit. “It might be one of the only times that your child isn’t beating my ribs up.”

His thumb brushes softly over the curve of your belly. “Are you beating your momma up in there?” Almost as if they could tell, Mat finally gets the kick he’s been dying for, a gentle little thing that if he hadn’t smiled at, you wouldn’t have even thought he’d felt. “You should stop that. Be nice to her in there.”

You laugh at him. “I don’t think that’s going to do it.”

“Won’t know til we try.” Mat says cheerfully and you just shake your head, so much fondness for this absolute dork. 

-----

“I cannot believe you did all this.” You look around Grace and Anders’ house in awe, shocked at the baby shower that’s occurring around you.

“Oh come on.” Molly scoffs. “You can’t be mad we threw you a baby shower.”

“I’m not mad at all!” You tell her honestly. “This-this is incredible. Better than I could have dreamed.”

She beams, looping her arm through yours and resting her head on your shoulder. You smile, and lean yours against hers, watching the chaos around you.

There’s a room full of gifts, presented with tags and already unwrapped, as she’d stated she knew you wouldn’t want to sit around and waste time with any of that. One wall has two lines of pictures, one each of you and Mat, with a crowd of people studying each one, as they make guesses about what age you each were in the different pictures. At the kitchen table, Brian’s collecting money and running the pool for baby sex and date and time of birth.

But for the most part, it’s just a group of people-your friends, Mat’s friends, Mat’s family, your brother, some coworkers-just gathered to celebrate and you couldn’t have asked for a better baby shower from her. Or the rest of her accomplices. Grace is a perfect hostess, hushing you each time you try to thank you. Tito and Brian are proudly wearing those stupid Team Baby t-shirts, and what’s worse is that they did manage to get your brother one. Chris is rocking his under a flannel, showing it off to anyone who asks.

“I think they’re taking orders for more.” You mutter to Molly. Tito looks pretty suspicious over in the family room, surrounded by a few teammates.

“I don’t think you want me to tell you the real answer to that.” She says and you laugh, just as an arm drops over your shoulders.

“Does your brother have any idea how old you are?” Mat asks.

You and Molly both burst into laughter. “Probably not.” You admit and Mat gives you the most incredulous look. “He’s eight years older than me and he was gone once he left for college. Actually. A lot before then too.” 

“I was gone a lot too but I know how old my sister is!” Mat cries.

“That’s a lot of shade for someone who didn’t know what she was studying in school.” You tell him and he laughs, appropriately called out.

“Alright.”  He grins at you, a smile you instantly return. “Fair enough.” And then, immediately, he says, “You good, Moll?”

You turn, just in time to see your best friend’s face change from interested curiosity to a bright grin. “Yup. I mean, I’d be better if you two would have, say, given me a name, but I’ve settled. At least there’s a nursery theme.”

You and Mat both smile. She’d begged and pleaded- first, to be allowed to find out the sex, then when she’d given up on that, for you both to finally pick a nursery theme, and now, for you to just give her the name options. The only thing you’d given in on was the theme. Mat had dropped it to her one night and she had, quite literally, taken it and ran. 

But she’d done great with it, constantly sending you both pictures of animal and safari themed nurseries and incorporating part of it into the shower. There was a pile of stuffed animals in the corner that she said she “had a vision for” and you were leaving her to it. She hadn’t let you down yet and you knew this wouldn’t be when she started.

“Maybe there isn’t a name yet.” Mat grins at her and you bite your lip to keep back the laugh at the face Molly makes.

“Don’t test me on this, Mathew.” She huffs at him. “You are only proving my point as to why waiting until the baby is born is a terrible idea.” She unlinks her arm from you and pushes her way over toward Grace.

“I changed my mind.” Mat says, turning to you as soon as she’s out of ear range. “If it is a girl, we can name it after her if you want.” You burst into laughter, burying your face in his shoulder. “Solely just to see the reaction she’d have if we did.”

“Nahh,” You tell him. “I don’t want to risk the overdramatics. Just in case.” 

He laughs and you’re sure he knows exactly what you mean. “Cross it off the list.”

“We are doing a lot of crossing and very little adding.” You tell him, mentally thinking of the very short list of names that neither of you have nixed.

He squeezes your shoulders. “Still got time. It’ll come to us.”

“Yeah.” You smile softly at him, but that’s all you get to say about it for the rest of the party, as you’re being called away to tell the story behind one of your photos on the wall. Then it feels like it’s hours later before you get the chance to talk to Mat again, both of you pulled from person to person or group to group, eager for your attention, that you’re more than happy to share after this amazing afternoon they’ve pulled together for you.

By the time you do get to cycle back around to Mat, the party’s pretty much wrapped up, only a few stragglers left to help Grace and Anders clean up and you and Mat load up Mat’s car.

He’s actually standing outside, which is the only reason you find him. He’s out on the back porch, alone, which explains why you couldn’t find him at first and why he hadn’t responded when Tito had called out for him a few minutes ago. You slip out behind him, sliding the door shut after you and then immediately start shaking. “Mat?”

He turns, and then frowns. “What’re you doing out here? You’re shivering.” He holds his arm out, and you step into him, burrowing close. 

“Looking for you.” You poke his side. “What are you doing out here?” 

“Just thinking.” He says quietly, which you give a soft hmm to in response, waiting for him to continue, but he’s silent for a few moments longer. You’re just about ready to tug him inside when he takes a deep breath, and you know that he’s gearing up for something big. “Would you-” Another breath. “I know I said to take your time, and I mean that still, I do! But what would you think about moving out here?”

“With you?”

He laughs, gently. “Yeah, with me.” And it’s now that you see he’s looking around the yard and the neighborhood, checking out the space around you, compared to the building of condos you two live in. That this is likely what he’s been thinking about the entire time he’s been out here, why he disappeared in the first place. 

“You want to buy a house?” You look out at what he’s been looking at for...well, who knows how long now, trying to picture it.

“I want to buy us a house.” He clarifies. 

“You-” You trail off, unable to form thoughts or words or sentences.

“Look, still think about it.” Mat says. “Just-just know that this could definitely be on the table. If you want it.”

But-but it’s not just what you want, isn’t it? Isn’t that a whole thing of parenthood and adulthood and life? This is closer to the rink, closer to Mat’s practice facilities. You’ve already committed to working from home after maternity leave ends, so you’re not overly worried about the increase in time to your own work (which you are pretty sure is actually fairly small anyway). The schools are better our here- you know that was a big thing for a lot of Mat’s teammates, the whole reason they all settled out here. It’s a little terrifying, sure, to think that you’re old enough to be thinking of houses and commutes and schools, but everything’s terrifying right now. There’s another human growing inside you, for god’s sake.

You squeeze your arms around Mat. “Let’s look at some houses.”

[tonguetiedmag]

Lit: The Indigo Bible

Pt 1: Creation Myths

In her essay “Holy Water,” Joan Didion describes the Western trend of backyard-pools as “a trapping of affluence” whether that affluence is real or fake or entirely gone from the picture. The water is the same as the Chateau Marmont pool except for the skin-surface residue that comes off; some people think it adds character. The water excludes use for showering, irrigating crops or drinking and includes “a kind of hedonistic attention to the body”.  

Much like Didion was obsessed with the distribution of water in dusty California, I am obsessed with its blues. There is an acknowledgment of the unreal during the ritual of swimming and recreation. Of pure love too, more on that later. Floating is a tradition modified with the advent of the public swimming pool mimicking of an endless game played by the gods. I would become friends with girls in elementary school because of their backyard pools. The combination of light and water and floating between the two. I’ve been drawn, since I was very young, to be under the surface of this.

Here is something that does not matter:

My zodiac-sun-sign is Pisces, the fish. I was born on a day before the spring equinox in March when everything starts to melt. My birthstone is aquamarine. On the Chinese zodiac, the year I was born in the year of water. The exact day, the water-dragon.

The fact that hotel pools are unlike any other color but exactly the same as every other six-foot deep hotel pool makes you feel as if you are nowhere and everywhere at once. To kids, it doesn’t matter the context of the pool, as long as it’s there, for since forever culture has stated that the privately owned pool epitomizes vacation. Imagine a 200-foot deep hotel pool. That’d be weird, huh.

Most of all, blues are seductive. A condensation of atmosphere, sometimes an absorbance of pollution. Most blues, the sky/the water/blue-jay feathers/Morpho butterfly/peacock/sapphire are not blue. They are structural blue, a tiny manipulation of light, form, and depth. When I scoop it up the sun drains all color from it, too shallow to be seen. The blue comes from the parts the light cannot reach.

And it is everywhere at once like a spirit. Lakes and rivers are evaporated and recycled into an endless cycle; the early mist on the lilacs may have once been Jim Morrison's bathwater that was once muddy with vomit, heroin and the sound of the stereo.

One July afternoon in Manhattan I was sitting on a windowsill. Across the street, there are these ugly glass paneled apartment buildings on the corner of 62nd that block the sky. I noticed something behind the glass. The late afternoon sun was soft, light enough to go through the window instead of bouncing off it and I saw a deep pool of indigo. I watched the swimmer, an old man who could just as likely have been my own self, my dead best friend or a god of love in that moment. The body pulled himself out on the ladder and took the indigo with him, dripping water sliding between the real and the unreal.

You could even believe that there is an ecosystem of blue, specifically indigo, that floats in and out of consciousness. Indigo, I believe, is an omen, an echo from another place or time. A place or time where dragons are alive, a place where it is likely that you will be struck by lightning, or any other extraordinary circumstance which smart people tell you not to be afraid of. Look twice and indigo will disappear. So believe in what you see.

Now that the truest blue has come and trusted me with its extravagance, I notice her everywhere in hopes that it will come back.

But any other blue is like, purple. Looked at much better through rose tinted glasses.

Nostalgia is a false sense of security

Pt 2: Sea Of Love

An old Spanish-speaking tailor in the East Village makes a satin slip-gown upon request. The woman, rather a girl, down in the city for writing internships and such, references the color of motel-signs on the Coney Island boardwalk. She tells him to hem the dress an inch smaller at the waist, an inch smaller than her regular size on account of a new diet. More like rent is expensive enough. While the city can practically live on promises of vitality, the currency is a woman's bones poking out from the flesh on her shoulders.

The dress is, in and of itself, a no-tell motel, a discretion of beauty that will spin itself into her lover’s hair and grow with time, the smell of his house sticks to it, her hair is bleached and dead, memories fall past her shoulders. Like a crack baby predisposed to a comedown, she wishes for the Earth's womb and the myth of consciousness born out of the water.

Being blue must mean I am perfectly, delicately yours, reflecting just your light

The blues do not say please and thank you, but I do

Eventually, I took the dress off as we fucked

------

I keep having nightmares that everyone who compliments my eyes will steal them from me someday with a melon baller or some shit she says, disturbed by the 7/11 cashier’s sentiment that you have the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen

Ava’s eyes are the gaudy color of peacock feathers. Her mother had the same eyes. Her mother was beautiful in high school.

I tell Ava that the blue cannot be stolen from her eyes because it does not exist in the first place. The only way to steal blue would be to steal the intricate skeleton of the eye itself. Or stop the light.

Blue is the world's favorite color.

-------

Imagine dreaming of an entirely new color and then forgetting it. A state hospital patient put his hands on the Indigo Bible; he swears he has seen the heavens in the form of indigo.

The color of hotel pools is my only proof of life after death.

Let’s say after 20 years of hoping he finally lets indigo leave his memory as a real thing. It is probably someone else's now.

Until it comes back. You saw it in the storm clouds before rain or reflected in an Egyptian scarab. Perhaps you knew the impermanence of the indigo sky, that the blue storm clouds were only a warning that the sky would soon be black. The dense clouds ooze like cotton balls absorbing the blood of a wound and soon they would drip. In the dark, you could imagine that the raindrops still reflected indigo.

If you were a machine you could look at the gradual descent of the sky into black and try and find the exact moment where indigo was created or position yourself and the sun and the Egyptian jewel so indigo would be reflected like those blue jay feathers but the speed of light is fast and to experience indigo you must believe in the accident of a sunset.

Indigo could not be isolated on Earth. Indigo was the color of heaven.

Indigo was brought by some Pilgrim Ghost returning a piece of himself.

The landscape fades into blue in the distance

Scientist’s Conclusion: since Indigo is impossible you decide to feel Midnight Black and Overexposed Sky Blue in hopes that one day, you’ll be satisfied only by your belief in indigo and vague, exaggerated memories. You must wear that Sheila-Della dresses as protection, and move in with a lover.

Indigo is the color of nonbelievers. For those who have no patience in waiting for calm. Blue does not exist in our world, it exists liminally in promises and a question of life after death. It’s pretty ironic huh, that we live on a blue planet.

by; Christina Piccione

[wonderwonderhowido]

fic roundup

Another year-end meme, this one looking back on my fic output in 2016.

Wordcount: 126,116 words according to ao3

Stories: 10

Fandoms: 7

January: None

February:

Goodbye Highway (first chapter posted in January, finished in February) - The Raven Cycle, Ronan/Adam, 69k words. The big amnesia fic.

Did I Say Too Much? I’m So In My Head - Haikyuu!!, kuroken, 3k words. Kenma pines and then is brave. This was the one I wrote during the one all-nighter I pulled in 2016, while I was in a semi-euphoric state after the Carly Rae Jepsen concert. Memorably, this was also the night I tripped and read all the ushioi and found myself with a new otp, but the fic I wrote that night was actually kuroken.

March:

Better Make Sure That You Get Yours - Haikyuu!!, ushioi, 6k words, written for Auto’s birthday. The rimming fic.

April:

Last Year’s Wishes Are This Year’s Apologies -  Haikyuu!!, ushioi, 13k words. The one where Oikawa saves Ushijima from a dude hitting on him, drunken hookup ensues.

I Am One Of Your People - Haikyuu!! x Attack on Titan, Armin/Kenma, 5k words and written for ouroboros for smutswap.

Stand Brave Life-Liver - The Raven Cycle, Ronan and Noah gen, 1,802 words. A missing scene from TRK.

May - August: None

September:

Change of Heart -  Haikyuu!!, ushioi, 12k words. The one where they get lost in the woods together and have to work shit out.

November:

Warm Blood - Mystic Messenger, Jumin/Zen, 7k words and the first chapter of a WiP that will probably never be finished. Zen’s a vampire in this one.

December:

Teach Me Just What Fast Is - Yuri!!! On Ice, Yuri/Otabek, 3k words. Basically just my manifesto of headcanons about Yuri P being a sub.

Tiny Islands Where We Didn’t Always Have To Be Afraid - Jessica Jones, Jessica/Trish, 4k words. Backstory of them hooking up while they were teenagers.

Leitmotif of the year:

I am not sure that there is a single leitmotif that runs through all or most of these, but all my ushioi plus Goodbye Highway have to do with struggles of reconciling the past with the present, and the general concept of, and importance of, the baggage you can have with someone. So I guess that.

Other themes I’ve noticed: healing from trauma; pining; jealousy, resentment, anger and the complications ensuing from these uglier emotions getting entangled with romantic yearning; gaining understanding and knowledge of another person and/or yourself through sex; sex and control, specifically the sexiness of surrendering control to someone else.

What’s the story that makes you happiest?

Goodbye Highway. I feel like a broken record for how much I’ve already talked about my positive feelings for this story, but, well. It made me happy to write and it makes me happy to think about.

My favorite stories this year:

Goodbye Highway; Better Make Sure That You Get Yours; Change of Heart

Most popular story:

Goodbye Highway, and I’m a little stunned by the popularity of Teach Me Just What Fast Is, considering I wrote it on an airplane. 

Story most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

Hm. I mean, both Tiny Islands and I Am One Of Your People were barely read by anyone, but I didn’t really expect them to be? I wrote the Armin/Kenma for ouroboros in smut swap, and they loved it, so I consider it successful by that metric, and Tiny Islands I wrote primarily for myself and I’m satisfied with it, so.

I guess I feel like Change of Heart and Last Year’s Wishes are underappreciated, partly because they got less kudos than the ushioi rimming and were harder to write/more plotty than that, and partly because I always think that ushioi is underappreciated by the universe in general.

Most fun story:

Change of Heart. Dramatic locker room arguments, a hike in the woods gone horribly wrong, forced intimacy, and all of Oikawa’s issues and hangups. The dialogue I wrote for this is some of the most fun I’ve ever had writing dialogue, and I loved pulling so liberally from my own internal monologues for Oikawa’s.

Sexiest story:

Better Make Sure That You Get Yours. Hard to argue with rimming and frenemies to lovers.

Story with single sexiest moment:

Adam sucking on Ronan’s fingers and then his dick before fucking him, in the middle of the longest sex scene I have ever written, at the end of Goodbye Highway. Oh also Oikawa coming on Ushijima’s face in Last Year’s Wishes.

Story with single sweetest moment:

Probably Goodbye Highway again, Ronan and Adam eating chocolate cake and watching porn together. I’m also awfully fond of Blue and Ronan’s first conversation together in GH, when she gives him the light, which maybe doesn’t strike other people as sweet, but it is for me. Also, Oikawa coaching Ushijima on how to make friends is very sweet to me.

Hardest story to write:

Warm Blood. It became hard enough to write that I’ve pretty much given up on continuing it, which is too bad; I kind of feel like I shouldn’t have posted it at all, oh well.

Easiest story to write:

Teach Me Just What Fast Is, or Did I Say Too Much? Both of them were written in p much one sitting, while I was sleep-deprived and in a good mood, and they just flowed.

Truest story of the year:

I still struggle with deciding on a definition of ‘truest.’ Tiny Islands is the story truest to its canon; Goodbye Highway and Change of Heart are the two truest to myself, I guess.

Story that made you cry/saddest story:

I don’t think Goodbye Highway is ultimately a sad story, although some might disagree, but it was the closest anything came to making me cry.

“Holy crap, that’s wrong even for you” story:

I don’t think I wrote anything that would fit this even remotely. All the porn I wrote was extremely right.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

I don’t know if this counts as shifting my own perceptions of the characters, but I wound up writing Jumin and Zen as kinder to each other than I’d originally intended in Warm Blood, and I’m still sort of mad that I wasn’t able to make their dynamic nastier.

Biggest disappointment:

Not writing the Blue and Ronan gen story where they become roommates after Gansey’s death.  

Biggest surprise:

I cannot fucking believe that HQ is the fandom I wrote the most for this year.

Most telling story:

Goodbye Highway, which is basically just 69k words of me processing my own brain shit. Change of Heart, wherein I wrote Oikawa a lot like myself.

Favorite opening line:

From Better Make Sure That You Get Yours: “Oikawa had a list of things that frustrated him about sex with Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

(Honorable mention, from Last Year’s Wishes: “Go suck a dick, Ushiwaka.” Listen, I love writing Oikawa more than I love most other things on this earth.)

Favorite closing line:

"Ronan sat on the forest floor, ignoring the occasional buzz in his pocket that indicated a text from Gansey, until it started to get dark. The temperature dropped, though not by much. Stiffness grew in his legs from sitting in one position too long. Distantly, he could hear the roar of an engine on a highway, so far away that it seemed quiet and kind. And around him, fireflies.” From Goodbye Highway. I just need to point out that I wrote this before TRK came out, and therefore m*ggie owes me for the concept of Ronan and symbolic firefly imagery.

And I can’t choose, I also love this one so much:

“As Noah crouched over Gansey’s body and said the words Gansey needed to hear, energy lines and time circles and knots in threads flitted through him like bird wings flapping. He was relieved to find that letting go did not feel like being murdered at all.” From Stand Brave Life-Liver

Favorite line from anywhere:

I’m very fond of this line from Tiny Islands, because it’s very simple and forgettable out of context but, at least to me and within the context of the show, it has a super bleak impact: “Jessica’s hangover the next morning was terrible, and she swore to herself she’d never drink again.”

But also like, the real favorite has to be this one from Goodbye Highway: “The holes in his mind scared him. But they were just holes. They couldn’t hurt him in the present.”

Favorite title:

Tiny Islands Where We Didn’t Always Have To Be Afraid, which is my favorite lyric from Run Fast by The Julie Ruin, a song that makes my heart hurt whenever I think about it. Honorable mention for Last Year’s Wishes Are This Year’s Apologies, because Fall Out Boy.

Looking back, did you write more stories than you thought you would this year, fewer than you thought, or about what you predicted?

I don’t remember having any real predictions about how many fics I would write, but hm, probably fewer? I wrote fewer than last year, but more of my stories were longer and/or more substantial.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January 2016?

Ushioi took me by surprise and I’m so glad and I’ve never looked back.

Story that could have been better?

Idk, I’m pretty pleased with the quality of most of them. Stand Brave Life-Liver probably could have been better, but I’m not sure how I could have improved it except by being an entirely different kind of writer than I am. I Am One Of Your People could have been more ambitious, but I think it works as a hot sex scene and a snippet of an established relationship. Warm Blood could have been finished, but oh well.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Goodbye Highway was risky, I guess, but it didn’t feel like it at the time because it mostly flowed easily. Same with most of what I wrote, tbh. I started working on a novel pretty early on last year, and the work on that was for the most part not something that flowed, so fanfic was more of an escapist thing for me, something I thought of doing purely for my own enjoyment and often something I spent time on when I knew I should be doing other things. This meant that most of the fic I wrote was id-driven and a blast to create. I guess what I learned is that it’s worth it to try and find that sweet spot where your writing is simultaneously you shooting from the hip, and striving to pull off an ambitious concept.  

What story do you want to have written?

I want to have finished the otayuri spy AU, I’m so impatient with this one, it’s all I’ve been thinking about. And I want to have written ushioi where Oikawa tops. And I want to have written some kind of otayuri fic that involves them having some kind of fight or misunderstanding and angsting about it and then resolving the conflict. And I want to have written the otayuri idea I have that I described as “orgasm denial but for kissing.” Look I just want to write otayuri all day, every day.

Story I want remembered:

Goodbye Highway.

What’s next for 2017:

I don’t really have any fic goals right now beyond finishing my current otayuri WiPs. Predicting next year’s fandoms is always fun to look at later, in a ‘wow I was hilariously wrong’ way, but I have no idea what’s coming up that could prompt me to write fic. Maybe I’ll write some stuff for Attack on Titan s2, if that starts showing up on my dash again. Maybe I will continue to tend my humble ushioi garden and write the bottom!Ushijima of my dreams; I keep thinking that I’m done with HQ but that hasn’t happened yet and I should probably learn to stop predicting it. I would like to write some victuuri, but I’m waiting for the right idea and it might never come.

You know what WOULD be nice, but I have no idea if this is actually on the horizon, is getting into a big western TV slash fandom again. I’m so ready for another Teen Wolf. I mean, I think a lot of us are and have been for a while, and YOI kind of turned out to be way more of a juggernaut fandom than I would have predicted, which of course I’m thrilled about. But it seems like all of the big non-anime fandom waves in recent years have been movie fandoms, which I can never seem to sustain an interest in, and I want another huge ridiculous TV fandom. I have no idea if this will be in store or not, though, beyond YOI hopefully continuing to gain momentum.