#he really was going dog mode for a while like just following Louis around or Claudia and then . Antoinette

[allegoryofthebeast]

I’m really interested if S3 will go over Lestat’s relationships outside of Louis and Claudia in New Orleans. It may not be important in the grand scheme but it was always so nebulous to me how he interacted with the world around him outside of Louis. Like - was he ever shopping for Claudia and ran into Levi shopping for his daughters too and if so how weird was that interaction

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes Imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 3

Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  

In this chapter: After finding Sharon in Madripoor, you learn about the creator of the soldier serum (Based on S1 EP3)

(PART 1) (PART 2)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 3,457

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 3, violence, strong language.

Once you arrived at Sharon’s you were itching to get out of the costume Zemo cooked up for you. 

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well.” Sam gawked at Sharon’s place which was full of art work and collectables. 

“I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I’ll get for a real Monet?” Sharon shrugged as she lead you through her gallery. 

“Easy...Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monets.” Sam didn’t believe her as he stared at the artwork. 

“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” Zemo defended Sharon as he followed her.

“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky informed Sam. 

“Okay, guys, I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” Sam pulled out his phone and started searching a nearby paining. 

“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Bucky teased him for it. 

“No shit.” Sam muttered as the realisation hit him. 

“You guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour.” Sharon beckoned you along to which you were silently thankful for. 

Sharon was kind enough to let you look through her vast collection of clothes until you picked out something you liked. 

“Hey... You okay?” You asked softly. 

You and Bucky were alone with your backs to each other as you changed in one of Sharon’s many rooms.

“I’m fine.” Bucky replied quietly. 

You knew he wouldn’t be fine after having to act like the winter soldier again. You watched him at that bar. He didn’t hold back when he attacked those men. 

“Buck, you know you can’t lie to me.” You tried to keep it light but Bucky wasn’t having it. 

“I’m not.” 

You didn’t push.

“Hey, will you zip me up?” You asked after stepping into your dress. You didn’t turn but you could hear Bucky’s footsteps as he approached you. 

You felt the cold of his fingers brush against your back as he slowly zipped up the dress. 

You turned when the zip reached the top. 

“Thanks.” You whispered. 

Bucky’s eyes were burning through you as he admired your choice of dress. 

“You look beautiful.” Bucky murmured, his eyes taking in every detail. 

“You scrub up quite nicely yourself.” You smiled as you admired Bucky in the suit Sharon had given him. You couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach as you thought about a possible normal circumstance Bucky could wear something like this. Like a date. 

“Come on.” Bucky took your hand and lead you to the door that would take you back to the others. 

“It’s alright. I’m gonna sort my hair out. Running through Low-town didn’t exactly do it any favours.” You retracted your hand and returned to the mirror. Bucky hesitated didn’t question you. 

“What’s going on with you and Bucky?” Sharon’s voice filled the room as you  heard the door open again. “Thought the two of you’d be together by now.”

“We’re coworkers. We’ve always been coworkers.” You were wary of Sharon’s new found attitude.

“Oh please. You two have wanted to jump each others bones the whole time I've known you.” Sharon rolled her eyes at you as she slump down on the love seat beside you.

You remained silent as you brushed through your hair. 

“Oh come on.” Sharon rolled her eyes. “You two have never?” 

“No.” You said almost too quickly. 

“Well it’s only a matter of time. I don’t know why you are dragging it out so long.” Sharon sighed dramatically as she picked at the fabric on the settee. 

“I don’t know why everyone is so invested in mine and Bucky’s relationship.” You spun around to face her. “You. Sam. Steve. You all poke and prod but you don’t take into consideration all the factors.”

“No you don’t take into consideration that there’s only so much time before one day you’re shot or killed or you have to go on the run and never see him again. You need to grow some balls, (y/n).” Sharon didn't bother sticking around after that. 

You groaned and closed your eyes. 

When you finally decided to rejoin the group, they were discussing Sharon’s status in Madripoor.

“What’s going on, Sharon? You don’t ever wanna come back home?” Sam asked as he put on a shirt. 

“They’ll lock me up if I step foot back in the States. Madripoor doesn’t allow extradition.” Sharon replied pretty matter-of-factly as she walked over to her desk. 

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call, but after the Blip and the chaos, I just––” Sharon cut Sam off before he could explain himself. 

“––Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy. 

“He knows. And not so deep down.” Zemo felt the need to jump in. 

“By the way, how is the new Cap?” Sharon asked.

“Don’t get me started.”Bucky grumbled.

“Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap’s best friend.” Sharon smirked as she sat down beside Bucky.

“Wow. She’s kind of awful now.” Bucky said as he looked over at you.

“Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum.” You took the initiative to change the topic back to the reason you were here in the first place. 

“You guys really should steer clear of all of this for your own safety.”Sharon warned you as she shook her head. 

“We know it’s a risk, but we won’t leave until we find the one who cracked the code.” Sam took the chair beside Sharon as he spoke. 

“We got a name. Wilfred Nagel.” Bucky told her. 

“Nagel works for the Power Broker.” Sharon informed you as she stood to pour herself a drink. 

“We need your help, Sharon. I can get your name cleared.” Sam offered. 

“You haggling with my life?” Sharon smirked again.

“Not like that.” Sam shook his head. 

“I don’t buy that. You pretending like you can clear my name.” Sharon leant back against her bar. 

“Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you’re right. What happened to you. But I’m willing to try if you are. They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he’s met.” Sam approached her with his good old puppy dog eyes. 

“I heard that.” Bucky frowned, unimpressed by Sam’s use of example. 

“I don’t trust charity.” Sharon sighed. 

“All right, a deal then. You help us out, and I get your name cleared.” Sam offered his hand. 

“Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay outta trouble. I’ll see what I can find.” Sharon took the deal. 

The party seemed to suddenly start. 

Within minutes the whole place was jam packed. Music suffocated the space and the smell of sweat and alcohol was growing.

You stayed in between Sam and Bucky as you walked single file through the gathering. You reached back and linked fingers with Bucky’s to make sure you didn’t get parted in the crowd. 

As the bar came into view, you felt a hand grab your ass. 

“Hey!” Bucky took hold of the stranger and slammed him against the nearest wall. Holding him by the throat. 

Sam was there to diffuse the situation in a second. He placed a. hand on Bucky’s shoulder to pull him away. 

“Lay low remember.” Sam repeated what Sharon had told everyone over the blaring music. 

Bucky released the creep and stepped back. 

That gave you enough space to send your own punch. The man cried out, sliding down the wall and cradling his gushing nose. 

“Looks like she does not need help.” Zemo chimed in. 

You all left the guy without drawing too much attention to yourselves. 

The music wasn’t exactly your taste and you knew that it definitely wasn’t Bucky's but that didn’t stop you from taking him away from Sam and Zemo. 

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked you. 

“Got a bit boring just standing there, no?” You smirked. 

“You can’t expect me to dance to this, can you?” Bucky grimaced at the pulsing beat that classified as music. 

“You can try.” You smirked as you brought yourself closer to the man. 

You moved your body to the music, smiling widely him as he awkwardly tried to sway to it. 

“I thought you were a good dancer?!” You teased Bucky as you watched him. 

“I was!” Bucky defended himself. “When the music was Louis Armstrong and Glenn Miller!” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the man before wrapping your arm around his neck. 

“You gotta move a bit more like this.” You tried to show him, taking his hand and placing it on your hip. 

Bucky was starting to look a little less like a grandpa as he got into the groove of it. 

His eyes were locked on you, a small smile on his lips. He looked undeniably handsome. 

“I think you’re getting it.” You leant up by his ear to tell him. 

“Well, we can’t look any worse than Zemo.” Bucky pointed through the crowd where Zemo was dancing. 

You burst into laughter at the sight of the war criminal dancing and buried your face into Bucky’s neck. Bucky laughed next to your ear. It was a rare genuine sound that sent tingles through your head. 

“Come on.. Let’s get some water.” You left the dance floor and rejoined Sam by the bar where he had started to speak to some other guests.

Sharon approached you a little while later with some good news and so you all immediately left the party. 

“Madripoor could give New York a run for its money.” Sam stated as you arrived at the location of Nagel. 

“They know how to party.” Zemo agreed. 

You followed Sharon through the shipping container yard as she searched for the right one.

“With that bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving.” Sharon stopped and pointed over to a red container. “All right. He’s in there. Container four-two-six-one. I’ll watch while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.”

“You want me to stick around out here with you in case you run into trouble?” You asked her as you all took an ear piece. 

“I’ll be alright. I’ll call if I need any back up.” Sharon dismissed your offer before walking away. 

You all entered the container cautiously before Sam contacted Sharon. 

“Hey, Sharon. You sure this is the right one? It’s completely empty.” He was right. To the eye, it was empty. 

“Positive. It has to be.” Sharon replied. 

You shared a look between Sam and Bucky as Zemo felt around the. back of the container. 

Suddenly, it shifted and a hidden door opened. 

Soft music played from below along with a muffled voice. 

It has to be Nagel. 

Sam, Bucky and you all went in armed. 

You silently negotiated between each other which urged Sam to go ahead and cut the music. Nagel spun around at the intrusion. 

“Dr. Nagel?” Sam inquired. 

“Who are you? What do you want?” The man wasn’t intimidating and didn't seem to have any weapons around him but you had learnt in the past not to underestimate your opponent.

“We know you created the super-soldier serum.” Sam informed him. 

“Get out of my lab.” Nagel demanded pretty boldly considering Sam was the one with the gun. 

“Hey! You know who he is, right?” Sam asked as he caught the shocked look on Nagel’s face at the sight of Bucky.  This is Baron Zemo. I know you’ve heard of him, too, right? You seem like a pretty smart guy. So you better become conversational real quick.”

“How about a counter proposal? Make me a better offer and I’ll talk.”Nagel smirked. 

“Guys, we have company.” Sharon’s voice whispered through the ear piece. “Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go.” 

“I’ll go up.” You lowered your gun from Nagel and went to turn when Sam stopped you. 

“No, we might need you.” Sam meant he might need your powers. 

“But...” You gestured to your ear. 

“She didn’t ask for back up.” Sam argued. 

You sighed but listened to Sam. 

Bucky moved Nagel over to a chair. He held his gun to the man’s temple. 

“Here’s your counter offer.” Bucky shot next to Nagel’s head which worked wonders to make him talk. 

“Okay. Okay. I was brought into HYDRA’s Winter Soldier program to pick up their work after the five failed test subjects in Siberia. When HYDRA fell, I was recruited by the CIA. They had blood samples from an American test subject with semi-stable traces of serum in his system. After much labor, I was able to isolate the necessary compounds in his blood. I was a god. I did what no other scientist since Erskine was able to do. But mine was going to be different. No clunky machines or jacked up bodies. Mine was going to be subtle, optimized, perfect.”

“How have we never heard about this?” You asked, your eyes flicking over at Sam. 

“Because… Before I was able to complete my work, I turned to dust. Then when I returned, it was five years later, program had been abandoned, so I came here. The Power Broker was more than happy to fund the recreation of my work.” Nagel explained. 

“How many vials did you make?” Sam asked. 

“Twenty. Karli Morgenthau stole those, so I can only imagine what the Power Broker has planned for that poor girl.” 

“Where’s Karli now?”You stepped forward, rolling up your sleeve as a warning.

“I don’t know where she is. But a couple of days ago, she called and asked if I could help someone named Donya Madani. Poor woman has tuberculosis. Typical of overpopulation in displacement camps like that.” You took a mental note of the name Nagel mentioned. 

“Well, what happened to her?” You pushed

“Not my pig. Not my farm.” Nagel shrugged. 

You looked back at Sam with a look asking if you should check if he's telling the truth but Sam shook his head. 

“Is there any serum in this lab?” Bucky asked. 

Nagel sent Bucky a deep glare but Bucky’s gun brought forth the answer. 

“No.”

“Now what?” Bucky asked you and Sam. 

“Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.” Sharon bursted in, looking a little battered. 

All of a sudden, Zemo pulled a gun out and shot Nagel. 

“No!” Sam cried out

You lunged forward and reached for the man’s arm. If you could catch his final moments of life leaving his body you could still get the memories but as you hand touched his skin all you saw was darkness. 

You screamed as you went blind. 

You felt a pair of hands pull you up from the ground to which you could only assume was Bucky. 

“What did you do?!” Sharon gasped at Zemo’s action. 

“I can’t see, Buck.” You felt your whole body go limp in his arms as you muttered those final words before you passed out. 

When you felt your eyes open again, you were out of the container. Gun shots were muffled in your eyes as you heard Bucky and Sam arguing. 

You were covered in dust and you didn’t have your gun. 

“Where’s my gun?” You asked. That’s when the boys realised you were awake. 

You only managed to crawl over to Bucky to take it from him and start to fire. 

Your aim was off from how exhausted you were but the adrenaline was there enough for you to get a good few shots in. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked you as the firing stopped. Zemo was busy taking out the remaining bodies so it gave you time to sit back again. 

“Not really.” You shook your head. Your body felt cold and darkness still clouded the corners of your vision. It’s what happened when you tried to get the memories from a dead body, all you could see and feel is death. Your powers only worked on living people or people close to death. 

“Come on.” Bucky lifted you up, tucking his arm underneath you to keep you steady on your feet. 

You only lasted being half dragged/half running before Bucky picked you up. You hated being carried but this was a life or death situation. 

“Buck!” Sam shouted as some more bounty hunters appeared. Bucky put you down and you fell against the container door as he used a broken off pipe to fight them off. 

“Let’s go!” Sam tugged you both inside.

Bucky kicked open the back of the container so you could escape, only for you to be met by Zemo in a swanky getaway car. 

“Supercharged.” Zemo gestured to his ride. 

“You’re going back to jail.” Sam told Zemo. 

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” Zemo asked. 

“He’s right. We need him.” You tried to speak but your throat was hoarse. 

“And there’s only three of us, and at least 20 of them.” Bucky added. 

“Fine. But if you try that shit again...” Sam warned him. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Zemo stated. Not that he was to be trusted. 

Sam helped you into the back seat. There was concern painted across his face. 

“Well, that was one hell of a reunion.” Sharon sighed as she placed her hands on the car. 

“Come back to the States with us.” Sam tried to persuade her. 

“I can’t. Just get me that pardon you promised me.” Sharon reminded him of the deal they made. 

“Thanks for everything.” Sam nodded. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.” Bucky shook his head. 

You laughed weakly as you remembered the same conversation back when Steve was still around. 

Back on Zemo’s plane, you took a position on the small couch with Bucky. You were resting your eyes but trying to stay awake as you listened to the boys talk. 

“Donya Madani. She’s a refugee, yeah.” Sam had contacted Torres about the woman Nagel had mentioned. “Call me if you get a hit. --- Thanks, Torres.”

“You okay?” Bucky asked Sam as Sam slouched down.  

“Yeah. Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through. And Nagel referring to the American test subject like Isaiah wasn’t even a real person. Just makes me wonder how many people have to get steamrolled to make way for this hunk of metal.”

“Well, it depends on who you ask. That hunk of metal saved a lot of lives.” Bucky looked up from cleaning his hand. 

“Yeah, I get that. All right. Maybe I made a mistake.” Sam confessed. 

“You did.” Bucky agreed with that statement and so did you but you kept your eyes closed. 

“Yeah. Maybe I shouldn’t have put it in a museum. Maybe I should have destroyed it.” Sam didn’t say what you expected. 

“Look, that shield represents a lotta things to a lotta people, including me. The world is upside down, and we need a new Cap, and it ain’t gonna be Walker. So before you destroy it, I’ll take it from him myself.” Bucky turned to face Sam as he spoke. You felt the couch shift.

Sam then got a call with the information on Madani. 

“They found Madani… Dead. She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea.”

“I have a place we can go. I, for one, am looking forward to coming face to face with Karli. Oeznik, we’re changing the course.” Zemo’s voice was the last thing you remembered before waking up at landing. 

“Hey sleepy head.” Bucky whispered quietly. He’d rather be caught dead than let Sam hear him say that. 

“Have we landed?” You asked as you rubbed your eyes. 

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded. “Come on.” 

It didn’t take too long to get to Zemo’s place but when you did, Bucky decided to break away. 

“I’m gonna go on a walk.” Bucky announced before you entered the building. 

“You good?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded as he stepped away. 

“Be careful.” You warned him. 

You knew Bucky needed his space sometime but now wasn’t the best time for him to just be wandering the streets. Especially if Walker clocks on it was you three that broke Zemo out of prison. 

“Always.” Bucky winked at you before finally leaving. 

But that was a bad feeling in your gut. 

(PART 4)

Bucky Barnes Tag List

@florencxs @mystictimetravelcolor @yourphotographyteen16@shannon-posts @darkbluenovember @sexwithhiddlesbatch@thefandomimagines @mydarkness-itsnotmyfriend @sad-huffle-nerd @glitchingghosts @themaddies-obx @avenging-parker @delilahsdaydream​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @purplewcrld​ @opheliaaaa​

[nugnthopkns]

if everything could ever feel this real forever

word count: 4.3k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, alcohol consumption, allusion to sexual content (nothing explicit but minors please be aware!)

recommended listening: everlong | foo fighters

a/n: broke down and wrote for ratty matty. alternalty titled four times matthew thinks you’re the one and one time he knows (4+1′s are fun to write, pls don’t fight me). also pls ignore the fact i don’t know how airports work, i’ve only ever flown domestically lmao

Matthew feels different when you’re around. 

You don’t turn him into a completely different person. He’s still himself – an absolute pest at times – but more genuine. With you he can feel everything deeply, say whatever’s on his mind without the fear of being judged. It’s the best kind of different, and he wouldn’t change it for the world. His teammates constantly ask him when he’s going to lock you down; put a ring on your finger and change your last name, but he needs to be sure before he makes such a big commitment. 

one

It’s the beginning of July, and you’re sweating buckets in the back of an Uber. The driver has the air cranked, but nothing seems to alleviate the heat. You know it will be worse in St. Louis so you do your best not to complain, but it’s hard. Taking two weeks off to visit your boyfriend in his hometown sounded like a great idea, but reading the weather forecast has you re-evaluating the trip. 

Your phone lights up in your lap, and you eagerly unlock it. It’s a text from Matthew. Have a safe flight. Text me when you land. Tayrn will be there to pick you up – Brady and I’s on-ice got extended. I’ll see you when I get home. Love you. 

Though you wish he could be the first person you see when you touch down, you understand that his job comes first. Besides, your re-unification will be more private this way. I get to see the best Tkachuk first, fuck yeah you reply, before following it up with Love you too Matty. See you soon. 

Soon after sending the text you arrive at the entrance of Calgary International Airport. With a polite thank you to your driver, you grab your suitcase and head inside. The working air conditioning answers your silent prayers and you feel your body slowly return to a normal temperature. Check in is fast, and before you know it you’re breezing through security. A slightly nervous traveller, you’re at the gate earlier than you need to be. The plane doesn’t take off for another two hours. You don’t mind the wait, listening to a couple of podcast episodes and grabbing a snack at the lounge before boarding. 

The five hour flight passes in the blink of an eye. St. Louis is busier than Calgary, and it takes you longer than you thought it would to get through customs. Once passed immigration and at the baggage carousel you let Matthew know you’re safely inside the city limits. You grab your obnoxious suitcase – a bright red thing with a giant Flames logo that Matthew thought would be funny to give you – and set out to find Tayrn. She’s easy to spot, waving a giant poster with your name on it. Abandoning nearly all airport etiquette, you rush through the crowd to see her. Over the years she’s become a little sister and close friend, and you really wish you could see her more frequently. 

“Y/N!” Taryn squeals as you wrap your arms around her. The pair of you embrace for another moment or two before making your way to her car. Neither of you can stop talking, so excited to be in each other’s presence.

“It’s so nice to be back,” you sigh. “I really do like St. Louis.” 

Tayrn giggles. “You’re just excited to see Matthew.” 

Though she isn’t wrong, you swat her bicep in faux annoyance. “What? Can a girl not enjoy a nice Midwestern city?” You push your sunglasses up onto the bridge of your nose before continuing. “Besides, I only came here to see you. I see enough of Matt at home.”

She rolls her eyes but extends her arm so you can fist bump her. With a quick look to make sure the way is clear, Taryn exits the parking spot and heads in the direction of your temporary home. The open sunroof allows the wind to whip through your hair and you struggle to tame it enough to put it in a ponytail. One Direction blasts from the stereo, and you join Taryn in screaming the lyrics until your lungs hurt. Being on vacation, even if it’s only to St. Louis, is so freeing. You don’t have to deal with work deadlines or friendship drama. All that matters is spending time with Matthew. 

When you pull into the Tkachuk’s driveway it’s empty. It’s Thursday afternoon; Chantal’s at work, Keith is golfing with friends, and the boys are at the rink. You take a few minutes to unpack, filling Matthew’s drawers with your clothes, before joining Taryn by the pool. St. Louis is just as hot as the city you left, and the travel has left you feeling below average. A quick swim is sure to be the perfect remedy. 

The water is the right kind of cool, and alleviates any stress you were possibly feeling. You’re properly in vacation mode now, lounging on pool floaties and gossiping with Taryn. An hour later when Matthew returns home you’re in basically the same position. Stepping out into the yard he sees you urging Taryn to turn around so you can place sunscreen onto the one spot she missed, laughing all the while at some ridiculous celebrity rumor she’s telling you. Seeing you get along so easy with his sister, and the rest of his family, makes his heart swell.

In the couple of months you’ve been separated, Matthew’s thought a lot about his future. Specifically about his future with you. When he closes his eyes he can see it clearly: the two of you married with children and a dog, living in a house in the mountains and loving life. It’s idyllic, and even though he knows you’d say yes if he asked you, Matthew still can’t bring himself to do it. There’s something in the back of his brain telling him to wait until he knows with absolute certainty that you’re it for him.

Not wanting to be separated from you for a minute more, he snaps out of his daze and scurries over. Wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and pressing a kiss to the base of neck, he relishes in how you mould to him immediately, not even questioning who it was. 

“Welcome back baby,” Matthew mumbles into your skin. 

With a chuckle you wriggle slightly in his grasp, allowing yourself to face him. You press a kiss to his lips and it feels like heaven. Absence does make the heart grow fonder, you suppose, because you could stand here kissing Matthew your the rest of your life and be happy. 

“Hi Matty,” you giggle against his lips, parting from him only to rest your forehead on his and twist a curl around your finger.

From somewhere inside the house you hear Brady yell,  “Jesus Christ, you two, get a room.”

Without taking his eyes off you, Matthew replies, “Fuck off Brady!”

two

The energy inside the Saddledome is electric. It’s the Flames’ first home game in nearly a week, doing an east coast road trip and sweeping every team they faced. Six games later the team is on a nine game winning streaking and are hoping to keep it going. You know how much it matters in this moment – the playoffs are fast approaching and all points they can tally up are needed. 

You had decided months ago to buy rinkside tickets for this game, planning to surprise Matthew. He loves when you sit in the regular crowd, cheering and spilling your beer like any old fan. It’s humbling for the both of you, and honestly you enjoy it. Though you love those in the Better Halves box, you were a hockey fan before dating Matthew and sometimes like to enjoy games by yourself. Plus, your friend was supposed to be in town and join you at the game, and you figured she’d like to experience how insane the area is firsthand.

So you do your best to quickly shimmy around those blocking your seat, beverage in hand. It was all you could do to get to the rink on time, sitting in the dense downtown traffic for nearly three quarters of an hour after rushing out of work. You wanted to make it before warmups started to make sure Matt knows you’re there supporting him. No one really bats an eye at you, which you’re thankful for. In no way are you notorious, but it wouldn’t take a die-hard fan long to recognize you. Sitting down and letting a soft sigh escape your lips, you carefully place your jacket over the seat beside you. At the last minute your friend had to cancel her trip to Calgary, leaving you solo. With a quick look at the clock you see that warm up will start in just under a minute. The players begin to step onto the ice as you sip your beer. Matthew is yet to notice you but you don’t take offence. He’s in the zone and most likely won’t realize you’re sitting right in front of him until halfway through the third period.

“Look daddy, it’s Matthew Tkachuk!” you hear a young boy shriek in excitement. “He’s so fast, I want to play just like him.”

You turn to look and see two rows above you there’s a father and son, who looks around eight. He’s wearing a jersey identical to yours, and from the sounds of his excited chattering it’s his first game. Seeing the young boy so happy to be here, to see your boyfriend, has your heart swelling. You want to make this a game he’ll never forget.

“Hi,” you smile at the father. “I don’t mean to intrude, but I know Matthew quite well. Would you like me to get his attention so your son could meet him?”

A shocked expression makes its way onto the dad’s face, but he doesn’t react negatively. “You’d do that?” he asks. “Riley loves Matthew. Wants to be just like him.” When you nod, he lets you approach the boy. 

“Hey there Riley, I’m Y/N,” you say, smiling and extending a hand to him. “I’m a special friend of Matthew’s. Would you like to meet him?”

The boy looks at his father tentatively, and only once he nods encouragingly does Riley respond to your question. “Yes please.”

“Why don’t you come down here with me and we’ll get his attention?”

With a little help from you, Riley climbs over the seats and plops unceremoniously beside you. You help him straighten out his jersey before beginning a conversation. He tells you he plays in a local youth league and wants to make it to the NHL one day. When prompted, you explain to him that you work a boring office job that you love even though it makes you angry sometimes. It’s all very formal, but after cracking a few jokes you get him to loosen up.

Matthew, still not having noticed you, begins to skate along the boards in your direction. “Watch this,” you whisper-yell to your newfound friend, “I bet he’ll jump super high.”

As soon as Matthew passes your spot you bang on the glass and scream his name. Sure enough, his skates lift a good three inches of the ice and he shrieks. Teammates around him laugh and the look on his face is priceless when he discovers you’re the culprit. 

“Babe!” 

You smile. “Matty, this is my new friend Riley. He wears number nineteen just like you!” A glance at the boy lets you know he’s starstruck, and your eyes lock with Matthew’s. 

He leans down and rests his hands on his knees, at eye level with the child. “Hi Riley,” he begins. “I’m Matt. I like your jersey.” 

After that, Riley’s a tap that won’t turn off. He details every bit of his day to Matt, and even though their voices are muffled a bit from the glass they get on like two peas in a pod. Matthew is great with children and doesn’t shy away from having legitimate conversations with them. He talks to them like they’re people, which is something you admire about him. The warmup time runs out, but before he heads back to the dressing room Matthew hoists his stick over the glass, giving it to Riley. The younger boy beams and waves goodbye. You blow Matthew a kiss, which he gladly returns, and turn your attention away from him as his figure retreats. 

“Is he your boyfriend?”The question makes you laugh.

“Is it that obvious?” you ask, to which Riley just shrugs. 

“He called you ‘babe’, and my mommy calls my dad that. That means you’re in love,” he says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. 

Matthew cannot pay attention in the locker room for the life of him. He’s trying really hard to listen to everyone’s hype speeches, but his mind keeps wandering back to the interaction you shared during warm up. You looked so happy watching him interact with the boy you found god knows where within the arena. It’s then he realizes he wants to watch you act like that for the rest of his life. He wants to see you bring excited children to meet him because you have the power to make their nights. His suspicion is confirmed when he steps onto the ice and looks in your direction, finding you and Riley pressed up against the glass cheering loudly.

three

The Giordano’s are hosting an end-of-season barbeque before everyone scatters into the wind, and you’re going to be late. No matter how much you reminded Matthew of what time you had to leave he still started getting ready as you were finishing up. This typically wouldn’t be a big deal, but he has recently started taking care of his curls, and the routine eats up a lot more time than he anticipates. 

“Matty, are you almost ready? There’s going to be no parking!”

His footsteps echo off the hardwood floor as he comes towards you. “That’s what you’re worrying about, baby? Parking?” Matthew laughs, pulling you into his side and kissing the crown of your head. 

“Yeah Matt, I am. You know I have parking anxiety.”

“I’ll drive then,” he says sweetly. “Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve driven us. Have some fun tonight.”

The short drive across town is full of laughter. Neither of you are great singers, but it doesn’t stop you from belting out lyrics at the top of your lungs. At some point Matthew breaks out a rather terrible impression of Axl Rose and you just have to post it to your instagram story. Captioning with a simple microphone emoji, you slip your phone back into your sweater pocket. Though most certainly warm enough to spend the entire evening outside, Calgary currently has a bit of a proclivity for wind, and you’d rather be prepared. Outside of Mark and Lauren’s house Matthew finds a spot and parallel parks with ease.

“Shut up,” you mumble, poking your tongue out at him. 

Matthew ruffles your hair in retaliation before jumping out of the vehicle, booking it around to the other side so he can open your door. He isn’t slick about hiding his intentions, grabbing a handful off your ass before leaning down to kiss you. Though you’d much rather stand in the cul-de-sac and make out with your boyfriend, you both have appearances to keep up. You get him to stop being a pest kong enough that you can enter the party and pass him off to his teammates. 

You congregate with some of the other girls in the corner of the yard, and enjoy a drink while the sun sets. It’s fun to gossip with them, to catch up one final time before most of them leave. You’ll be staying in Calgary, job tying you down for the foreseeable future. The only thing that’s better than spending time with your friends is glancing at Matthew from across the space. 

He’s enjoying himself, glass of water in hand. When he offered to be the designated driver he was serious, and he took the shit the boys were giving him in stride. Though you’ve only had one gin and tonic and can’t feel the effects of the alcohol, you’re glad he’s staying true to his word. The heightened water intake makes his skin glow, and you’re having a hard time staying focussed on the story Lauren is telling. He catches you staring and shoots you a dazzling smile. Tired of keeping your distance, you excuse yourself from the conversation and saunter over to your boyfriend. 

“Hey Y/N,” Noah says breezily, raising his glass to you in mock salute. You wrap your arms tightly around Matthew’s waist.

“Hanifin,” you smile. “I’m really sorry to do this, but I need to pull Matt away for a quick second.”

No one in the group is the least bit surprised. The two of you have a reputation for being young and in love, sneaking off often and doing everything that entails. Once the two of you are alone you rest a hand on his chest, dangerously close to the button of his shirt. You then move kissing along the underside of his jaw, pressing your body closer to his to ensure he gets the point. 

“Needy baby?” Matthew tries to smirk, but his voice wavers when you reach the junction of his jawbone and earlobe. 

Declining to speak, you continue your actions until he’s just as desperate to get home as you. Though you try to be sneaky as you exit through the back gate, you won’t be surprised if you wake up to a few crude text messages. You’re too far gone to care, solely focussed on showing your boyfriend how much you love him. 

The entire ride home Matthew can barely focus on the road. Not because you’re doing anything particularly risqué, a few too many close calls have put you both off of initiating things in the car, but because he doesn’t ever want to stop sneaking away from events with you. It’s exhilarating in more ways than one, and he hopes the feeling never goes away. Being with you, his best friend, is something he wouldn’t trade for the entire world. So what if he gets chirped by the boys for having precariously placed marks on his back.

four

September brings a chill to Calgary, but you couldn’t feel warmer. Matthew is due home this afternoon after nearly four months of being away. Of course you visited him in St. Louis, and he even flew back to the city once, but the two of you were mostly separated. Your shared apartment felt cold and lonely without him to annoy you, so you had spent as much time away from it as possible. No longer do you have to fall asleep with Matt’s side of the bed stone cold. 

Though you know he likely won’t care, you’re nervous about the new decor. In an effort to make yourself feel better in Matthew’s absence, you completed some home renovations. Most are superficial, like a new sectional and an ungraded home speaker system, but you had redone the entire kitchen after scrolling through pinterest. The cabinets are a bright yellow, and the walls are a warm cream. Subway tile has also replaced the previous backsplash. You’re quite proud of the way it looks – doing pretty much all of it yourself and only calling your dad when you really needed help. 

You spend much of the morning not doing anything productive, pacing the hallway back and forth. It’s nerve wracking and exciting to have Matthew home. Things will go much smoother with his presence even if he can sometimes be the most annoying person on the planet. You force yourself to eat a small meal before continuing to wear holes into your floor. He’ll arrive in a matter of minutes, and you’re practically vibrating with how much your legs are shaking. 

A key twists in the lock, as though it’s a Pavlovian response, you bound towards the front door. Not even letting him step over the threshold you wrap yourself around him as tightly as possible. Matthew giggles sweetly, and you swear it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard. Tears flow freely down your cheeks and soak through his shirt. In a very ungraceful waddle Matthew carries the both of you inside your home and shuts the door lightly. 

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Matt asks, obviously concerned because this is more emotional than any homecoming you’ve ever had. 

Through hiccupping sobs, you stutter out, “I painted the kitchen cabinets yellow and you’re going to hate them. And then you’ll want to break up with me but I won’t be able to take them with me.”

“Woah woah woah, slow down baby,” he soothes, rubbing circles on your back. “Why am I going to hate it?”

When you can’t come up with a justifiable answer, he knows your anxiety just got the better of you. Repositioning you slightly so you’re tucked into his side, Matthew walks through the apartment to see the kitchen for himself. He’s blown away by its beauty, and he can see just how much work you put into it. The room is so much brighter and inviting – he can’t imagine having any other kitchen now. 

Once you ramble off an apology for being so dramatic that he won’t accept, the two of you settle into the couch and start a reality television marathon. It’s a tradition that both of you take very seriously, and though he’d never admit it to anyone but you, Matthew looks forward to watching the outlandish dramas. The night is quiet, with you getting through quite a few seasons of Desperate Housewives, and at some point you fall asleep on Matthew’s chest. He knows he should gently move you off of him, start to unpack his bags, but he can’t tear himself away.

He can’t help but stare as you snore softly. There’s nothing Matthew would like more than to spend the rest of his life relaxing after coming home to you. If he’s being completely honest, St. Louis doesn’t feel like home as much anymore, and he finds himself counting down the days until he can return to Calgary. Matt supposes you’re the defining factor, and even Antarctica would feel like home to him if you were there. He never wants to lose that feeling. 

+ one 

There’s ten seconds left on the clock. Ten seconds until the Calgary Flames will become Stanley Cup champions. You’re holding your breath – you know a lot could happen in such a short amount of time. The lead isn’t as wide as you’d like it to be, only one, and you squeeze Taryn’s hand tightly. Everyone in the friends and family box is just as amped up as you. If the choice had been yours, you’d be sitting in the stands of the Saddledome, but in event the Flames win you need to be with everyone else if you want to join the team on the ice. 

Matthew carries the puck up the ice, and you audibly gasp. At the last second, a Bruins defenseman is blocking his view of the net. Not letting the scoring opportunity go for his team, he snaps a pass backwards to Elias Lindholm. A nano-second later the puck is in the back of the net. You possibly scream the loudest of anyone in the box, jumping into Brady’s arms excitedly. 

“Holy shit, they’re going to do it,” you whisper, and Brady nods enthusiastically. The clock now only has two seconds, and there is virtually no way the Bruins can make a comeback. 

You untangle yourself from your boyfriend’s brother and approach his parents. “How exciting is this!” Chantal gushes. 

“So fucking exciting,” you say honestly. “Listen, I want to talk to you about something.”

The Bruins’ head coach is halfway through his timeout, so you have to talk fast. You explain that you want to hang back while the family celebrates with their son and brother. Keith and Chantal try to argue, but you insist. You want them to be the first people to greet him as a Stanley Cup champion. 

A horn signals the return to play, and you return your attention to the ice pad below you. Everything seems to move in slow motion; all you remember is the final whistle being blown and getting crushed in a group hug by everyone else in the room. Your voice goes hoarse from screaming, and tears stream freely down your face. 

The party continues for a short time in the box, but then you’re being led through the arena and out onto the ice. Nodding in the direction of Matthew, you urge the Tkachuks to greet him. You congratulate other members of the team, snapping candid pictures of everyone to share in the group chat later. So many families will treasure the photos that you can’t bring yourself to stop, trying your hardest to grab everyone. 

Once enough time has passed for Matthew to properly be congratulated by his family, you make your way towards him. Wasting no time, he skates over and lifts you off your feet. Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, and if you weren’t so proud you’d have reservations about sticking your tongue down Matthew’s throat in a packed arena. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper against his lips. “My champion.”

Matthew blushes profusely at your words, and you can tell he likes them. “Couldn’t have done it without you supporting me,” he responds, leaning into your touch as you rake your fingers through his hair. 

While you celebrate with the rest of the team, holding babies and snapping pictures, Matthew realizes he can’t live without you. No one else will fit into his life as perfectly as you. There’s no one he wants besides you. Matthew makes a mental note to go through your jewelry box in the morning to get your ring size. His mom always said he’d know when someone was ‘the one’, and now he understands what she meant.  

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales​ @kiedhara​ @tortito​ @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows​ if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

[yellowsugarwords]

I just want to tell you that i love your storys and i was hoping if its not too much if you can make a reaction for the Ericson kids, when your ex showes up at the school, but your daiting one of the kids there . (I cant write😂😂)

Ima write this like the Ericson kids are dating someone and their ex returns to the school: their current partner’s ex.

Clementine: Clementine would tense up at the mention of their ex. “Really?” She turned, spotting the stranger approaching the gates. She crossed her arms, making her way over, not checking with her partner as she did so. “What are you doing here?” Clementine called, stance cold and determined. “Don’t come any closer.” They obeyed, but instead of answering their gaze was cast to their ex lingering closer to the building behind Clem. Immediately, Clem frowned. “Leave.” She said cooly. “If you don’t, we’ll sick the dog on you.” When they hesitated, Clem glared harsher. “Don’t make us start trouble. We will. I will.”

Marlon: Marlon would bristle immediately seeing them approach the gates. “That’s my ex.” Y/N whispered, eyes closed and shoulders rigid. Immediately, Marlon’s followed suit. “Huh.” He said, starting for the front gates, hands balled and eyes fierce. Y/N didn’t notice until he was practically already at the gates. “What are you doing here?” Marlon snapped. The stranger blinked, turning to cast a glance at Y/N. Marlon stepped in front to block his view. “Yeah. I’m gonna need you to leave.” It made his skin crawl the way they were looking at Y/N, and he wanted them out of there as quickly as possible. Through gritted teeth he continued: “Leave. Now. Otherwise, she,” he reached back, pointing to Rosie chained up against the side of the school. As he gestured she started barking wildly. “Will be let off her chain.”

Louis: Louis’ shoulders would tense, his chest would puff out, and he would turn toward the gate. “Louis? Louis, what are you doing?” “Something.” Was all he’d say. By the time he reached the gate, he’d cross his arms and smirk. “Hey, what are you doing around here?” If they tried to glance past him toward Y/N, Louis would step into their field-of-vision. “No no no, we’re having a conversation. Look at me.” He’d frown, crossing his arms. “I suggest you leave. I don’t want to make a scene. But I need you to get out of here.” His gaze narrowed. “Leave them alone, alright? Stop coming by here. This is the only time I’m going to tell you this.” Then Louis would depart, returning to his partner, placing a hand on their back and whisking them, into the safety of the school.

Violet: Violet would immediately tense up. “Oh, that’s not gonna stand for much longer.” She didn’t hesitate, she stormed toward the gates with little to no regard for anything else. She cracked her knuckles as she approached, immediately reaching for the lock. “You better get out of here before I get this thing off.” She said, glaring, unlocking the gate’s lock without looking at it. “I don’t think you’ll want to know what I’ll do to you once I get out there. So I suggest you leave.” She whisked the gates open, cracked her knuckles, and removed her knife from her back pocket. They took off running without a second thought and Violet smirked, proud of her work. “20 seconds. A new record.”

Mitch: “That’s my ex.” Immediately, Mitch snapped his gaze toward the gate. He didn’t hesitate for a beat. He immediately started for it. “Hey.” He said lowly, despite Y/N behind him whisper-begging for him to stop. “What do you think you’re doing here?” The stranger frowned, brows furrowed, shifting their glance to Y/N behind him. Mitch whistled, snagging his attention again. “Hey, I’m the one talking to you. Look at me.” Mitch glare, arms crossed, ensuring that he was a barrier between Y/N and their ex. “Leave. Now.” When they didn’t budge, Mitch reached for the lock. “Don’t make me come out there.”

Aasim: Aasim would tense up, slowly turning to face the gates. Spotting the stranger, he slipped back around. “Them?” Y/N nodded and Aasim gulped. He wasn’t intimidating. Not even close, so he had no idea how he was going to ward them away, but he knew that he needed to try. So, when he approached, he gulped. “What are you doing here?” He stated as coldly as he could. “Get out of here, alright? We don’t want you around.” He was surprised that they seemed genuinely intimidated by his forcefulness. Luckily, he didn’t see Marlon and Mitch behind him, holding up their weapons and sending threatening gestures the strangers way.

Ruby: “My ex is here.” Ruby immediately turned her gaze to the gaze, frowning as she spotted the stranger approaching. She immediately went into Protection Mode. “I’ll handle this.” She said, started for the entrance. “Hey!” The moment she got into earshot, she called to the figure. “Get out of here, alright? We’re not letting you in.” As the figure drew closer, their eyes locking onto Y/N in the background,Ruby frowned and planted her hands on her hips. “Okay, now we’re definitely not letting you in.” She snapped her fingers. “Get the dog.” It was all she needed to say. Immediately, the figure took off running.

Omar: Omar would tense up, frowning, casting his gaze to the gate. Sure enough, a stranger was drawing closer. Frowning, and turning to Mitch to back him up, the two drew closer together. Omar didn’t have the courage or the cold demeanour needed to ward people away, but he didn’t want to sit idly by while someone else defending his partner for him. Mitch, however, had that demeanour. Luckily, he was down to help. “Don’t come closer.” Mitch said. “Just leave.” Omar added, his voice weaker and less cold than Mitch’s. “We’re not letting you in. Get out of here.” When the stranger didn’t leave, Mitch cracked his knuckles and watched as, slowly, they began to back off.

Brody: Brody hated confrontation, so the second her partner said that their ex was lingering by Ericson’s front gates, she had no idea what to do. So, because she didn’t know what to do, she frantically ramble-ranted to Mitch, Aasim, and Violet about what she should do. On her behalf, as she clung to Y/N by the Ericson front doors, the trio went up to the gates to shoo the stranger away. “Look. We don’t want you here. Get out of here before you cause trouble, okay?” Violet said. It seemingly worked smoothly, but Brody’s tight grip on her partner didn’t lessen.

[ericsonclan]

Wrapped Up in Anticipation

Summary: Violet opens her dorm door to find an excited Louis with presents to wrap.

Word Count: 2048

Read on A03:

A knock at Violet’s dorm room door had her quirking an eyebrow. Therissa wouldn’t be back until the wee hours of the morning since she’d gone to pull an all-nighter with a classmate. Who else could be visiting so late at night? Looking through the peephole, Violet rolled her eyes. She opened the door to find Louis there, wearing a Santa hat and smiling at her with his arms full of Christmas wrapping paper and a huge bag slung over his shoulder.

“Lou, what are you doing here? We said we’d meet up tomorrow to wrap gifts,”

“I know, I know, but I was picking up supplies and I found something and I just got so excited I had to bring it over tonight and figured why not go the whole nine yards?” Louis smiled brightly at his best friend before looking down meaningfully by his feet.

Violet’s gaze followed Louis’ down to the ground. A small gasp escaped her lips. There at Louis’ feet was a tiny live Christmas tree, no higher than his knee.

“Isn’t it amazing! I spotted it being sold in the parking lot with all the big Christmas trees and figured it’d be the perfect tree for you. You can have a real live tree this year!”

Violet would never admit it, but a lump welled up in her throat at the gift. Growing up in a trailer, she hadn’t come from a family with the funds to afford a real live tree let alone a full size artificial one. Truth be told, as she got older her parents had stopped putting up any sort of tree at all, not even the dusty old miniature one they used to place on the table. Her mom had been busy working multiple jobs and no longer had energy to decorate and her father was too focused on chasing the next bottle of whiskey to care. Violet used to have her grandma’s decorations and artificial tree to find solace in, but it had been almost a decade now since she’d been alive.

“Vi? Are you OK?” Louis’ voice carried concern with it.

Shit. Her emotion must be showing through after all. She didn’t want to talk about any of that stuff. It wasn’t like Louis knew and she wanted to keep it that way. That part of her life was in the past now. She was living independently, and she’d never be going back. Swallowing the lump, Violet cleared her throat and bent over to pick up the tree. “It’s cool. Let’s bring it inside quick. I think my RA said live trees aren’t allowed within the dorms,”

“Ooh, breaking the rules!” Louis whispered happily with a playful waggle of his eyebrows. Slipping inside Violet’s room, he closed the door behind him with a soft click. Walking forward, Louis dumped all the wrapping supplies in the center of the room. He glanced over at Violet who was placing the tree upon her desk. “Oh, we should probably put that in water so it doesn’t dry out. Do you have a bowl or something we could use?”

“I have one,” Violet went over to the bookshelf and grabbed a plain white bowl. “I’ll be right back,” With that she left to fill the bowl in the dorm bathroom. A few minutes later when she returned she found Louis had already spread out all of his gifts upon the floor and was attempting to calculate how much wrapping paper he’d need for the first one.

“You’re using way too much,” Violet noted dryly. Going over to her desk, she stood the tree up within the water bowl. “The wrapping paper’s gonna get all crinkly and shit,”

“It’s ok, I bought plenty. If I do this wrong, I’ll just try again,” Louis’ scissors glided as he cut a huge swath of wrapping paper before looking back over at Violet and the tree. His face fell slightly. “I should have run back inside and bought some ornaments for Lil Stumpy. He looks so bare,”

“You named my tree?” Violet plopped down on the floor, rooting out her own presents from under the bed.

“Poor little guy needed a name. He’s small of stature but big of heart,”

“Excuse you, Lil Stumpy is a lady,”

“Oh! My humblest apologies!” Louis bowed in mock solemnity before continuing with his wrapping. “I’ll be sure to drop by tomorrow with ornaments for the little lady,”

“Y’know, for someone who goes to a different college, you’re over here way too much,”

Louis shrugged. “What can I say? I like it here. You’re here, Marlon’s here, and everybody else around here seems cool too. Like those twins in your statistics class. That gift’s for Sophie, right? You said she’s the one who really likes food,”

Violet paused in her gift wrapping and nodded. “Good memory,” She’d gotten Sophie a DIY mochi ice cream kit. Ever since the twins and Violet had gone on a late-night ice cream run one late night, Sophie had been talking about mochi nonstop. Hopefully Sophie’s homemade mochi would turn out to her satisfaction. Violet glanced over at the box Louis had been trying unsuccessfully to wrap again and again. “That’s the bomb you ordered for Mitch?”

“Glitter bomb,” Louis corrected, recutting his wrapping paper to a smaller size. “I can’t wait to see the look on Mitch’s face when he gets a faceful of glitter! He’ll be getting the stuff out of his hair for weeks!” Louis chortled happily at the thought. “There’s a giftcard to St. John Steakhouse in there too. Hope he looks through the box before throwing it out,”

“You’d better give him a heads up on that after the glitter bomb,” Setting aside her first present, Violet moved onto her second, Minnie’s gift. It was a t-shirt with a heartbeat monitor line in the background while a guitar was in the foreground.

“Oooh, getting Minnie something with a heart on it I see,” Louis teased.

“Shut up,” Violet muttered, turning her face away from her friend. “It’s a heartbeat, not a heart,”

“Riiiight, totally different. Minnie seems nice though. I think if you asked her out she’d say yes,”

“Yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen,”

“Or maybe I should hint to Minnie that she should ask you out,”

“If you do, that, I swear I’ll steal your kneecaps in the middle of the night,”

“Ok, ok, message received! Yeesh!” Louis rolled his eyes as he pulled out a large package from his present bag that was already wrapped in dark blue tissue paper and tied with a silver bow. “Here’s your gift by the way. I wrapped it ahead of time so there’d be no chance of you spoiling your own gift this year,” It was a game they’d developed over the years: Louis hiding his present to Violet somewhere he thought she’d never find it and Violet inevitably sniffing it out.

A smirk crossed Violet’s face. “Oh, I already know what it is,”

“What?! How?”

“You left your laptop open beside me last time you were over here. I just pulled up your Amazon order history and scrolled down,”

“Well, you’re still not allowed to open it till Christmas!” Louis declared with a sullen pout.

“I won’t,” Violet took the present eagerly, lightly squishing it. Louis had outdone himself this year. He’d found a blanket with glow in the dark constellations printed all over both sides. Violet couldn’t wait to cuddle under it come Christmas morning. Pulling out a box from her own pile, Violet unceremoniously plopped one of the ribbons Louis had bought on the top of the packaging and handed it over. “Here’s your gift,”

“Wow, I love what you did with the packaging,” Louis replied drolly. Taking the small box in both hands, he shook it in curiosity.

“Hey, no shaking! You don’t get to guess what it is!”

“Oh, but you get to know what your present is ahead of time? I call shenanigans!”

“Just wait till Christmas, you big baby,” Violet glanced over at the box, hoping the present inside was still safe. She’d bought Louis a thumb piano. It had been a tossup on whether buying it for him would be worth the annoyance of him playing the thing everywhere, but Violet knew the smile on Louis’ face when he opened it would be worth it. Getting back into wrapping mode, she pulled out a thin black box that contained her next present.

“Is that one for Mitch?”

“Yup,” Violet wrapped it in the goofy reindeer wrapping paper Louis had bought. She knew that one would annoy Mitch the most.

“What is it?”

“A knife,”

“Bet you wanna keep it for yourself,” Louis knew her well. Violet was a sucker for a cool knife.

“Yeah, but there’s no weapons allowed on campus anyway, so,” Violet shrugged, making quick work of wrapping the gift. “Ready to wrap the big one?”

“You betcha!” Louis reached into his bag with glee, pulling out an entire miniature sled. The warm brown wood and painted metal detailing along the edges came together to form a truly charming sight. “You got your part of the gift?”

“Yep,” Violet plopped a red dog harness on top of the miniature sled. “I looked up pit bulls to make sure I got the right size,”

“Awesome. Marlon’s gonna lose his mind when he sees this!” Louis was practically beaming in excitement as he unrolled a huge swath of wrapping paper to begin the process.

Violet had to agree. Ever since Marlon got Rosie at the beginning of this year, the dog was all he ever talked about. Violet couldn’t blame him. Rosie was super cute and pretty much the sweetest dog she’d ever met. When she and Louis had been brainstorming gift ideas for this year, they knew they wanted to get Marlon something that would also be a gift for Rosie. Now he would be able to sit on his own miniature sled and have Rosie pull him around across the snow to her heart’s content. They were both gonna love it.

It was quite a tricky process getting such a large and unusually shaped present wrapped. In the end after several layers of wrapping paper and some truly haphazard usage of tape, they had a large, lumpy package to show for their labors. Both friends looked at it with pride.

“It’s perfect,” Louis stated, wiping a mock tear from his eye.

“That’s some fucking good wrapping if I do say so myself,” Violet smiled proudly at the mysterious blob. That was when her eyes caught the time. “Shit, it’s almost one? I have an 8 AM class tomorrow. You gotta go,”

“Awww, so soon?” Louis batted his lashes at Violet, giving his best sad puppy impression even though they both knew that was pointless.

“Yep. Scram. And take your shit with you,” Violet helped Louis pack all the wrapping paper and supplies as well as his gifts before escorting him to the door.

“Christmas hug?” Louis asked, turning around one last time.

“Fine, Christmas hug,”

“Yay!” Louis wrapped his arms round Violet happily, chuckling as he did so. “Ho ho ho!”

“…What the fuck was that?”

“A Santa laugh. Now it’s a genuine Christmas hug,”

“Whatever,” Violet mumbled though she knew Louis caught the small smile upon her lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow to drop off the ornaments for Lil Stumpy then?”

“Sure. I’m done with classes at 2,”

“Then I shall see you then. Till next time!” With a happy wave Louis was gone, sneaking quietly down the hall as it was far past visiting hours.

Violet shook her head good naturedly before closing the door. What a goof. It was sweet how excited he got around Christmas though. And the early gift he had dropped off… Violet looked over at the tiny Christmas tree, her eyes misting up a bit at the sight. That was truly special. Walking over to her desk, Violet brushed her hands along the delicate pine needles tenderly. It was her first Christmas on her own and already it was better than any she’d had in a long, long time. “Merry Christmas, Violet,” she whispered softly to herself. A bit of Christmas magic had found its way to her after all.

[jaerie]

just because its 5:30 in the morning, here’s a sneak peek of what i’m currently working on :) 

It was always such a relief after a long stressful day to finally get out of the house and stretch his legs.  Harry walked through his front door, hung his light jacket on the coat tree and then walked through is house towards his back door.  He shed his clothes along the way, draping them on one of his kitchen chairs instead of leaving them in a trail on the floor like he wanted to, but he didn’t live like an animal.  In that sense, anyway.  

It was already dark after a long day at work and he really should just make himself some supper and crawl into bed but he just needed to let loose.  He needed to be free, even if it was just for an hour or so.  Fully naked, he stepped out his back door onto his patio, stretching and trying to ignore the light chill against his bare skin.  It was a temporary discomfort.  He stretched his arms high above his head, cracked his neck and then took off at a run towards the woods starting just behind his backyard.  

This was his favourite way to shift.  At a full run he lept into the air, feeling the trickle of magic shimmer through him and over his skin.  He always imagined it like a sparkly aura they visualized magic as on tv.  He knew there was nothing actually visible about the force that caused his shift but he still liked to think about it.  That was how it felt, a little tingly and shimmery through his nerves.  

He landed on the ground one paw at a time, not even breaking his stride as he propelled forward, his new form giving way to more speed than his human legs could ever give him.  Yes, that was what he lived for, that was what he needed.  He raced through the familiar woods in a path he frequently took, one that rarely took him past any other humans.  On this night, though, he caught the scent of something strange.

Harry trotted to a stop, nose lifted as he sniffed the air and then aimed his nose towards the ground.  Someone had recently been through the area and the scent had him immediately apprehensive.  He couldn’t pinpoint it right away but he knew it wasn’t friendly.  Only allowing himself to sniff around for another minute, he opted to turn back towards home, unwilling to get himself into trouble when he was just out for a run.   

He heard it before he saw it, the snap of twigs and the deep menacing growl.  Frozen in his spot, it suddenly became clear.  He had stumbled upon a pair of bear cubs and their mother was now in defense mode, ready to attack.  He was a white streak of fur as he took off in no particular direction, heart pounding and hair standing on end as he pushed himself to his limit to get away.  The bear gave chase behind him, the path of the large animal not quiet as it closed in.  

He ran and ran until he wasn’t even sure if he was still being followed, trying to put as much distance between himself and the threat as he could.  In his panic, his awareness of his surroundings had dulled, failing to see where he was even going.  His paws took him across a small clearing and then suddenly a bright light was blinding him while his nails scrambled for purchase on the different texture he had stumbled across.  A great force slammed against his body and before he could even react, it was dark.  

--

Louis cursed to himself and turned his brights on as he tried to navigate the winding country road that led up to his new house.  House was the word he would use to describe it but he supposed that’s what it was.  He had been in the market for somewhere private, quiet and secluded after the chaos of the last few years of his life.  

Since he was a bit older than his siblings, he had always made up stories for his sisters when they were growing up.  His mom had had her hands full with so many young children and it became his job to put them to bed more often than not when he was home.  With some urging, he had started writing down his ideas for his fantasy worlds with werewolves and kingdoms and worlds he had always thought to be silly.  The editors that his oldest sister had sent them off to hadn’t had the same thoughts and before he knew it, he was the author of the latest best selling young adult novel series.  Promo tours, book signings, readings and eventually movie deals to bank on the latest fad.  He’d barely been home to see the family the stories had been created for in the first place.  

Now he had the pressure of continuing the saga and it was becoming more stressful than he had anticipated.  He had taken a chunk of his cash and invested in a property built on a hill in the middle of nowhere.  A two lane highway passed not too far so he wasn’t completely removed from society but with it set back far enough from the main road that it was completely hidden by trees, it had been a happy medium between both worlds.   

He’d barely moved in a couple weeks ago, moving trucks and designers coming and going while they set everything up for him.  It was amazing what could be accomplished with money without having to lift a finger of your own.

It was dark and he still had to use his GPS navigation to find his driveway and still squint at the treeline to find the small break where he’d turn.  He was doing just that when a streak of white reflecting his headlights came out of nowhere and even with the slam of his breaks that had every part of his body aching, he still felt the thud of a collision.

With adrenaline pumping in panic mode, he jumped out of the car and ran around to the front to see what he had hit.  To his horror a large dog was sprawled across the concrete, still with red slowly soaking through the white and grey fur.  

“Oh fuck!! FUCK!!” he yelled, pulling at his hair while he stared at the scene in shock.  He looked around frantically but of course there was no one around to help him or offer him any advice.  The animal didn’t look mangey or unkempt so he knew it had to be someone’s pet and not some kind of white wild wolf.  Which made it worse, really.  He scrambled to the dog’s side and was relieved that it was still breathing though it was quick and shallow.  It’s leg was bent at an odd angle and the way it had fallen seemed unnatural.  It definitely needed medical attention and quick.  

[solastia]

Crazy Little Thing Called Love | 1

Pairing: Baekhyun x OC (Crystal)

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, this series will have it all. Idol AU

Word Count:  2,172

Note: (ONCE AGAIN: Moving from my old blog to here, so if this is familiar to you, you’ve probably read it before) Basically, this was just a short and sweet little story I put together just to see if I could do it. So I apologize in advance if it’s crap lol. Also, I know it’s the usual thing to put “Y/N” instead of giving the character a name, but from the viewpoint, it just sounded better. Just envision your own name if you want lol.

The EXO fan meet was a huge success. One of the largest they’d ever had. There were thousands of people here, all screaming and crying and happy to see them. It had already been going on for a couple of hours. Baekhyun was bored. He was hungry. He was tired. However, he knew that the fans were more important than all of that, so he did his very best to paste the sunniest smile he could manage and hoped if he focused hard enough the thoughts of a giant pizza all to himself would go away.

Another half hour went by, every face blending into another, but Baekhyun smiled into everyone’s eyes, played with the toys they gave him and finally they were starting to reach the end of the line. He was playing with a Pikachu plushie someone had just given him when Kyungsoo, who was two chairs down from him, suddenly started to laugh like crazy. Baekhyun knew the difference between his fan and genuine laughs, so he was curious what was so funny that it had Kyungsoo dying of laughter, and took a peek at the person in front of him.

She was fairly cute from the side, he had to admit. All he could really see though was long brown hair and a cute pink Adidas sweater. She was really short but had curves in the right places, which he enjoyed. She was laughing as hard as Kyungsoo was, and her hair covered most of her face. She and Kyungsoo were talking together looking at the gift she’d given him, which from here looked like some sort of book. Knowing Soo’s fans, it was probably a recipe book. She had a handful of wrapped presents still, so he guessed she’d brought one for each of the members.  Unfortunately, she was still too far down, so he couldn’t really see much more. He was interrupted from further inspection when a crying younger girl grabbed his hand and started telling him her story, so he went back to focusing.

Baekhyun was whispering to Chanyeol, who was on his right, when he heard the soft yet husky “Hello.” He recognized the pink sweater and looked up…she was cute! Warm brown eyes in a small heart-shaped face. Freckled nose. Small lips that were grinning shyly. If she were wearing any other makeup besides eyeliner, he’d be surprised. Baekhyun didn’t realize he was staring until her cheeks went pink and Chanyeol hit him in the side with an elbow.

“Hey there.” Baekhyun decided to have a little fun and turn on the charm, so he gave her what he thought was his best come-hither look. It had worked on so many others with great success, so he was unprepared when instead of falling into a slobbering mess of fan girl at his feet, she threw her head back and laughed.

“I’m sorry!” She managed to say in between giggles. “I’ve never seen anyone go from startled to flirty in 30 seconds before. It’s alright, you don’t have to put on the fan act with me."

Was that a snort he heard?

To get over his embarrassment, he went into auto mode and started signing the picture. "What’s your name?” he asked. “Crystal.” Of course; It was pretty like her.

Covering her mouth to stifle her laughs, she handed Baekhyun a small wrapped package and a gift bag. He peeked into the gift bag first, excited to see what appeared to be tons of snacks.

“I made one for each of you. I know these things tend to go on for a bit, so I knew you guys would be hungry. I made sure to include a few handfuls of those sausage things you like to stuff yourself with. I also gave you each a gift card to my Mom’s restaurant. No pressure, and of course I don’t even expect you guys to use it, but I figured the gift of a meal is the best thing to give a group of hungry guys.”

Baekhyun had to agree and wasted no time opening a sausage and munching hungrily on it while he opened the smaller package, which turned out to be a CD. Crystal blushed when he looked up and cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I know that CD’s aren’t the hip thing anymore, but I wanted to give you this. It’s…well.” As she stuttered and blushed, Baekhyun’s confidence returned.

“Aww, Crystal, is this your confession?” He teased her, grinning mischievously into her eyes.

She picked up the discarded sausage wrapper and threw it at him playfully. “So what if it is?” She chuckled, before sighing. “It’s songs that I wrote for you. Stop grinning at me like that. I’m not saying they are all love songs or even all TO you.” She smiled up at Baekhyun, as he had his head propped in his hands smirking down at Crystal. He really liked her voice. It was soft and almost sensual, which was an exciting mix with her tiny and cute appearance. He suddenly wondered what she sounded like screaming. No, singing. He meant singing. Mind out of the gutter Baek, he thought to himself.

“I write and play music. That CD is filled mostly with songs that I wrote with your voice style in mind. And yes, there might be a few songs in there for you, but I won’t tell you which.” At this point, her blush was starting to reach her neck. “I just thought it would be a much more meaningful gift than expecting you to cart around 1000 plushies."

"Thank you. I will listen to it soon, and I promise not to tell anyone when I find the naughty song you wrote about me.” Baekhyun joked, earning a wink and giggle from her.

Baekhyun opened his mouth to keep talking to Crystal when he felt an elbow in his left side. Chen was looking at him impatiently, and he realized that he and Crystal were starting to hold up the line. He looked at the adorable woman in front of him regretfully, and she nodded in understanding. It’s not like she was going far away since she still had to make her way down the line. Baekhyun wondered why the thought of her talking to Chanyeol next bothered him. He impulsively grabbed her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it before winking at her, then quickly turned and said hello to the next person in line. He chuckled to himself because he could see from out of the corner of his eye that he unsettled her with that, and she was blushing and startled when Chanyeol started talking to her.

They’d finally finished with the line, and people were starting to get up and leave the building. Baekhyun had paid attention as Crystal had made her way down the rest of the line. He noticed that no matter who she talked to, no one else but him had made her blush, which made him proud for some reason. He also saw the gifts. Besides the gift bags of food, which he’d seen all of the guys eating their way through, it appeared she’d put thought into everyone’s personal gifts, and didn’t give anyone a plushie. Notebooks, picks, and a dog toy for Chanyeol. Recipe book and spices for Kyungsoo. Tea for Chen that was good for soothing throats. Louis Vuitton dog jacket for Sehun’s Vivi. She also didn’t cry or scream at anyone, just a gentle smile, and laugh. She had even laughed at Suho’s horrible wordplay joke that he’d heard 5000 times, making Suho look incredibly proud of himself.

Baekhyun couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. Sure, he’d seen his share of cute fans before and had women throwing themselves at him daily. So why couldn’t he stop staring at her? He followed Crystal’s back as she made her way to the exit. Would she look back? Should he call out to her? The room wasn’t as full anymore. No, he couldn’t do that. Then he’d have to explain himself to the guys. So he stayed silent, watching and memorizing the sway of her long hair as she left.

Almost as if he’d willed it to happen, there was a loud crash sound as Chanyeol was playing around and knocked over a couple of chairs. Several people turned to see, Crystal among them. She gave the scene a small smile and looked over and locked eyes with Baekhyun, who hadn’t stopped staring. He sends her an air kiss which earns him a full genuine smile from Crystal. They both wave, and with a bite of her lip, she turns around and heads out of the exit.

He wonders why the room suddenly feels gloomy. He’s being ridiculous, he knows. Sighing to himself, he starts to pick up all the fan gifts in front of him, smiling to himself when he gets to Crystal’s CD. It’s not the first time he’s received music from people, usually trying to use him to get into the music business. However, he’s really excited to listen to this one. He imagines her husky voice singing is incredible. Chanyeol comes up rubbing his knee, which he must have hurt in the chair fiasco, before grabbing Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Hey, so, we don’t have anything scheduled for tomorrow, right?"

"I don’t think so. Why? Did you wanna do something?”

“We all got gift cards to a restaurant. I thought we could use them. It’s a place I’ve actually heard of before. Home cooking type place. I could use some real food."

Baekhyun froze in place. The restaurant! It’s was Crystal’s! Could he get away with seeing her again? Should he?

Baekhyun cleared his throat, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

"Why not. Since we don’t have other plans.” Did that sound convincingly unconcerned? Aiiish, he was acting stupid.

Later that night, Baekhyun sat with Crystal’s CD in his hand, preparing himself. He put it in, pressed play and closed his eyes. She had everything on here, ranging from a seductive jazz sound, pop, R&B, and one of the most touching ballads he’d ever heard. Her voice had incredible range, going from soft and sexy to high notes that Chen would even be impressed by.

He froze when suddenly he heard her clearing her throat on a track, and she was saying “OK, so if you’ve made it this far in the CD, not only am I impressed, but I’m very touched. So, I suppose I’ll sing you a song. This one is obviously not mine, but it’s one that makes me think of you. God, that sounds cheesy. I’m not really the overly emotional, screaming "OMG I LOVE YOU” type, but it’s there. Even if you don’t care, or I am never able to come to another one of these fan things, I hope that you stay healthy and happy. Since I became a fan of EXO, you’ve been my…muse, I suppose. Suddenly your smile alone makes me think of a new melody. Wow, I’m being silly. Sorry. Not that you care, I’m sure. Right now you’re probably like, “Wow, I could be out sleeping with a model. Instead I’m listening to this wench ramble on.” Anyway, there are other songs on here that are actually about you, but it seems more embarrassingly personal to tell you which, so I will just sing you this one.“ Her throat clears again, and as the sounds of an acoustic guitar and her soothing voice filled his ears, he hears what is a ballad version of a song he knows well.

This thing called love I just can’t handle it this thing called love I must get round to it I ain’t ready Crazy little thing called love This (This Thing) called love (Called Love) It cries (Like a baby) In a cradle all night It swings (Woo Woo) It jives (Woo Woo) It shakes all over like a jelly fish, I kinda like it Crazy little thing called love There goes my baby She knows how to Rock n’ roll She drives me crazy She gives me hot and cold fever Then she leaves me in a cool cool sweat I gotta be cool relax, get hip Get on my track’s Take a back seat, hitch-hike And take a long ride on my motor bike Until I’m ready Crazy little thing called love I gotta be cool relax, get hip Get on my track’s Take a back seat, hitch-hike And take a long ride on my motor bike Until I’m ready (Ready Freddie) Crazy little thing called love This thing called love I just can’t handle it this thing called love I must get round to it I ain’t ready Crazy little thing called love

Baekhyun listened with a grin and hit shuffle when it was over, preparing to listen to the CD again as he drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow couldn’t get here fast enough.

[disparition]

When I was a kid I spent a lot of my summers at the Albert L. Shultz Jewish Community Center in Palo Alto. I went to a number of summer camp programs, with various degrees of religious and political content, about which I still have very conflicted feelings. But this was also just the place where our family would come to go swimming or use the gym. The JCC itself was a set of low one story buildings connected by semi-open walkways with lots of open space in between - the same structure and layout you see in any Californian public school or community center.  It was next to a cemetery, a park, and a footpath and a small area of nature surrounding Adobe Creek. In general this was a very mellow place where I never really felt unsafe in a deep way.

This, maybe, in spite of the intentions of those who taught there. The summer camp programs were a constant reminder of the hatred that was out there; games that pitted kids against each other, re-enactments of exoduses ancient and modern, sessions with Holocaust survivors. All of this affected me deeply but a combination of the semi-idyllic setting and my instinctive resistance to the feeling of being indoctrinated in something made it seem somehow distant, or theoretical.

I was never particularly religious to begin with and as I grew up, while I remained personally spiritual on some level, I became skeptical, even suspicious of many aspects of the Jewish community. The more I looked around and read the more I saw a rising and ugly nationalism within the Jewish world. And when I looked back on the summers spent at the JCC as a kid, some of the memories remained warm but in many other cases I felt like some of my suspicions about indoctrination were confirmed. What I began to feel was that programs like those I attended, and much of the Jewish media I was exposed to, were in some ways exaggerating the threat against us in order to bolster support for Israel and a strong ethno-nationalist mentality in general. A mentality of being alone in the world, superior but surrounded by enemies - a position from which people can be easily manipulated, especially by nationalist forces. By the time I was just entering the adult world, which was right around the time of the Second Intifada, I had become almost completely detached and distrustful of institutional Judaism in general, especially anything that seemed to promote Israeli nationalism or the idea of a strong tribe or a religious state.

Many years later, well after having moved to NYC, I came back to the Bay Area to visit and noticed that the old JCC had been renamed and moved to a new location. A large and kind of strange looking, almost fortress like structure near 101. I was with a friend at the time, who had recently worked in Israel, and he told me that some of the features of the complex were defensive architecture adopted from Israeli practices. At the time, I remember this reinforcing my view of the paranoia coming from that community.

Two days ago, like dozens of other JCC’s and Jewish schools all over the United States, it was evacuated due to bomb threats. This following on the heels of massive vandalizations of Jewish cemeteries in St. Louis and Philadelphia.

It is tempting to respond to these events with the thought that those paranoid voices within the Jewish community was, all this time, correct. We are and always will be alone in a world populated by our enemies, we must be a strong tribe and support our strong state. This was, after all, the dominant response when the Nazis were defeated the first time around. I think it is a mistake.

As I grew in political and historical awareness over the past two decades, I saw increasing alignment between the Jewish community and the forces of political conservatism in the United States. And disturbingly, I noticed that many Jewish people my own age who had liberal or even progressive stances on most issues were suddenly more conservative, even hawkish when it came to Israel. Israel’s defensive (and offensive) needs meshed well with the geopolitical agenda of conservative and pro-corporate American politicians of both parties, and because of this a strange sort of alliance was formed between elements of the American right - who had for most of their history been anti-Semitic - and elements of the Jewish community. “Judeo-Christian” began to be thrown around by certain kinds of politicians almost as a dog whistle sort of term, and the manipulators of the religious right began to re-emphasize the spiritual importance of Israel in their own context.  

This alignment has resulted in massive amounts of taxpayer money spent supporting and arming Israel as well as on our own related military misadventures, and it has been a massive contributor towards the xenophobic attitudes against Muslims in the United States. And this has caused a related shift in our paranoia, with much of the media - mainstream, conservative, liberal, Jewish, or otherwise - portraying modern anti-Semitism as almost exclusively as a threat coming from the Muslim world, and often framed with an anti-immigrant context.

This kind of thinking has misled us, and as frightening as these recent events are, I hope we are waking up to that.

There is a very common pattern in history: a group of people, long oppressed, rises from their oppression by oppressing someone else using the exact same techniques and mentalities once used against them. This is a pattern we must resist.

We should not be wall builders, and we should not align ourselves with wall builders, in this country or in any other.

Patterns are everything to us. We repeat things until they become true and these become the building blocks of the human part to the world: nations, borders, genders, races, ideologies - all of these basic elements of the world around us that often seem inflexible, sometimes even concrete but which are, in the end, purely a manifestation of our collective minds - a layer of thought that sits on top of the natural world. It’s not possible to just abandon these patterns collectively, we need to work, together and as individuals, to evolve them into new ones.

This chaotic time, scary as it is, is an opportunity to create new patterns. That means looking at ideas like the nation state or national borders, looking at how our identities intermesh with those ideas, and reassessing the patterns, maybe even forming them into something new, defining and organizing ourselves in new ways.  I don’t claim to have some vast new plan for human organization, but I do know that we need to start moving away from modes of thinking that are dependent on defining the self against an excluded “other” and towards those that are inclusive of all the forms of love and creativity that make being human worthwhile.

[evenstevensranked]

#44: Season 1, Episode 6 - “Louis In The Middle”

This week, Louis coincidentally saves big shot on campus Blake Thompson's life (who's clearly not 13 years old and only in this one episode) by stopping him from choking on a piece of steak, lol ok. After that, Blake welcomes him into his entourage -- He even calls Louis his "main man." But, it doesn't take long for things to go south. Meanwhile, there’s romantic tension between Ren & Larry and we need to talk about it.

The episode opens in the school cafeteria with Louis doing some Marlon Brando impressions for Tawny and Twitty ("I made him an offer he couldn't refuse" / "I coulda been a contender" and "sTELLA!!!!") All quotes that would most likely go over kids' heads. While shouting "Stella" he whacks Blake Thompson in his precious face -- which is something you’re not supposed to do I guess. But turns out, it’s okay! "As long as it's not the nose. Anything but the nose” Blake says. That’s good to know. We learn that Blake is so popular because he’s been in a few commercials. That’s apparently enough to warrant celebrity treatment in Sacramento.  

We get a pretty inappropriate quote around here. Twitty says that Blake did a Doc Dennier’s hot dog commercial a few years back. Louis sings the jingle "If it's not Doc Dennier’s, you're just eatin' wieners!" To which Tawny replies "I don't eat wieners." - Oh, dear God. Haha.

Blake starts choking in the middle of telling some arrogant story about himself, but people think he’s “acting” at first. Haha, why else would someone start choking mid sentence? For dramatic effect?! Louis realizes that Blake is actually choking and it’s like Hero Mode: Activated. Where did this side of Louis come from?! He rattles off information and gives commands to people around him like he’s a freaking EMT or something! He goes behind Blake to give him the Heimlich maneuver. Here we get a slightly inappropriate bit of Louis shouting "I'M THRUSTING! I’M THRUSTING!!!" paired with this image: 

I wish I wasn’t an adult and didn’t notice this.  

After this, Blake is all "You saved my life. You're a genuine hero. Welcome to my entourage!" We see the character Ivan used as Blake's sidekick here. He’s only in a few episodes.. but he’s usually Larry Beale’s lackey. So using him here just makes him seem even more fickle and desperate. Which works, I guess. Blake tells Ivan to basically wait on Louis hand and foot now. You can already tell that Louis is letting this somewhat newfound popularity go to his head. AS UAUAL! Louis does some of his impressions for Blake and he seems to think Louis is funny........... for now. I hate fake people. 

Also during this opening cafeteria scene, Larry/Ren conflict is set up for the subplot. Ren is Student Policy Monitor and thinks the school deserves better lunch options. I agree. Last time I checked, school cafeteria food is one step above what they serve in prison. She stands up and gives a little speech about her plans to improve the food.. but Larry keeps interrupting, cracking jokes, and mocking her.  

You know it’s serious. He’s giving her The Hand.

Twitty and Tawny become concerned about Louis possibly succumbing to peer pressure. I like this part because Tawny tries not to worry and says “No one knows the real Louis better than I do. Deep down he’s classy, caring, very very intelligent...” - It’s supposed to be a joke but it’s actually surprisingly true. Either way, she decides they should keep an eye on him. 

The next day, Louis is telling jokes to Ivan and some popular girls at lunch.  

This is where the episode takes a sad turn. Ivan goes over to Blake all excited about how funny Louis is, but Blake says “Dude. Grow up, the guy’s a dork!” You can tell Ivan was genuinely entertained by Louis but forces himself to ditch him for the sake of staying on Blake’s good side. Sigh. After losing a phone argument with his mom about cleaning his room (like the big important celebrity he is), Blake just kinda stares at Louis with disgust. And of course, Louis is oblivious.

Seriously, this guy is a 35 year old 8th grader. I guess that’s what happens when hot dog commercials are your top priority... 

Tawny has been “observing” Louis the whole time. He sees her and asks "What are you, choppin' hedges?!" I always loved that.

Tawny says she and Twitty are worried he's becoming a "pod person." I never heard anyone say that term before this show. And I never knew what it meant so I looked it up: 

"A person pretending to be something they aren't, or an impostor. This is inferred because of the old alien movies where alien pods appear on earth and the "pod people" dispose of the humans and slowly reproduce the bodies, pretending to be humans."

I honestly remember thinking she was saying “Pot person” when I was young and that Louis was secretly doing drugs or something, lol. I was like ~ooohhh this is getting Degrassi-deep right now!~ The whole conversation was Very Serious and ended with Louis getting offended and taking her concern the wrong way. He feels like they’re just jealous of him having new, cool friends. Oh, Louis.

Ren asked for everyone to submit cafeteria suggestions into a suggestion box. Which was a good little idea... until Larry decided to stuff the box with offensive things about her. Like, who tries that hard?! Oh my god. He must really hate her, or really love her and has a strange evil way of showing it. She decides to resign from public service. Larry finds out, and he's clearly upset about it. 

Charlotte (who makes her last appearance in this episode) and Ren reading through Larry’s messages. i.e. “Can you do something about the tuna casserole? It smells like Ren Stevens’ breath.” - Wow, Larry.

When Louis tries to do an Austin Powers impression for Blake the next day, he tears Louis down and says his 15 minutes of fame are over and he's done tolerating him. Nice! 

I just had to include this image. “Gagalicious, babehhh!” 

Blake tells Louis to go hang with his own friends. Only problem is -- Louis kinda ditched Tawny and Twitty. This leads to a mirror talk! Yaaaaay!!!! I love how consistent these were in Season 1, wow! This time, he treats it like he’s doing stand-up:

"For those of you keeping score at home... My new friends, they don't like me. My old friends, they don't like me. So I guess the score is Friends - 0, Louis - Really 0. I guess next time I'll think twice before I save a guys life."

Later that night, Ren's watching a romance soap opera when Larry shows up at The Stevens house to apologize to her. Yo, I swear to god. There is so much romantic tension here!!! He tells Ren that they've been competing against each other ever since the 5th grade and that she can't just give up. Because "If there's no Ren Stevens, there's no Larry Beale." WHAAAT?! It gets all awkward and Ren invites him to stay and watch the rest of the show with her. He says "No thanks, I think I've had enough soap operas for one day," and LOOKS HER UP AND DOWN with a sly smile. She's left sitting there like "ok :) ????" They're the best ship that never sailed on this show: 

Come on, now! She’s all blushy and confused lol

Louis is all upset and wants to find a way to be Blake's friend again. WHY, LOUIS?! WHYYYY?! They're holding a school car wash and Louis sees a car about to kind of -- sort of -- not really, back into Blake and “crush him,” so he runs over to push him out of the line of fire in an attempt to save his life again. Buuuut, he just ends up getting water all over Blake and angering him. Louis insists “I’M SAVING YOUR LIFE OVER AND OVER AND OVERRR!!!!” but Blake yells “Stay away from me forever” at him in front of everyone. So that’s the end of that. 

Tawny and Twitty observe this, as well. Tawny says “Louis’ constant craving for approval combined with his youngest child syndrome has basically split his personality in two.” - THAT’S SO SPOT ON THOUGH?!?! I love how they gave Tawny these lines. They really show how well she understands him. 

Tawny decides she and Twitty have to go to “drastic measures” to shock Louis back into reality. They come up with a plan that involves Tawny as a damsel in distress tied to train tracks, and Twitty as an evil train conductor about to run her over. They plan it so Louis has no choice but to ride up on his bike and save her in the nick of time. He does, and this is their way of forgiving him and becoming friends again, haha. It's cute. Pretty unrealistic. But cute. 

Louis: “Isn’t this is the part where you tell me I’m your hero and ya kiss me?”

Tawny: “Don’t push it.”

Following their romantic-tension-filled heart to heart, Larry starts taking Ren's side and supporting her at lunch after she becomes Policy Monitor again. "You heard the lady! If you have a suggestion, you fill it out and put it in the box. Continue, Miss Policy Monitor..." he says: 

They’re so cute. Why didn’t they happen?! They totally could’ve turned this into one of those passionate mortal enemies falling in love tropes, lol. I’ll always be salty over this. 

The episode ends with Louis sticking two carrots up his nose at lunch to assure Twitty and Tawny that things are back to normal. It’s adorable, haha.

I love the look Tawny gives him! Awwwww. If you haven’t guessed... I SHIP IT. 

So yeah! That’s it. I don’t really know what else to say about this one. It’s not bad at all. It’s just a little.... eh. It’s not bad, but it’s not amazing. This one is genuinely very neutral. It easily could’ve been placed anywhere on the list, imo. But, I just decided on #44. I really love the Larry/Ren stuff here. This is one of three big moments in the series where you really sense that they have weird repressed feelings for each other or something. I like it a lot and wish they went for it! Other than that, there are some nice Louis moments and development here (I love the mirror talk, for example) and I really like the subtle Louis/Tawny hints as well. But, yeah. This one is pretty chill overall.

As always, thanks for reading!! <3 

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Summers long ago: a 1500-mile trip in a Cessna 120

When non-pilots think about flying, they think about engines and dials and lights and radios. They think about complicated gadgets that they could never understand. What they don’t realize is that flying can be a way to touch an older, simpler time.

In the summer of 1979, I was working in Tulsa, Oklahoma, before starting my senior year at college. An old high school friend of mine living in Massachusetts was being badly bitten by the flying bug. He was a young electrical engineer, two years out of Stanford, with more money than he knew what to do with, and he wanted to learn to fly.

In the grass of Harvey Young, an airport tucked just south of Tulsa International, there appeared a beautiful 1946 Cessna 120. The interior was a bit rough, but the outside was about perfect, a lovely light brown with chocolate trim. It had an electrical system, and even a turn and slip. The radio was a Radair 10, a ten-channel crystal job that, for some unknown reason, had mostly ground control frequencies in it. That didn’t really matter because the transmitter didn’t work very well.

Simply put, I fell in love with this airplane. I couldn’t buy it, but I convinced my buddy that this was the airplane for him. I told him he could learn to fly in this plane, have lots of fun, and then sell it for what he paid for it. After all, the selling price in 1979 was about $5,000 more than the airplane went for new in 1946. The same airplane today would go for more than $20,000 (and I still can’t afford one).

Not just a machine, but a way to get in touch with another era.

He bought it, hearing the love in my voice, and told me to bring it to him. Tulsa, Oklahoma, to Boston, Massachusetts: a 1500-mile trip in a 30-year old airplane with no nav radio, a com radio that just barely worked, no gyro instruments except for that needle and ball, and a wet compass. This was adventure!

My first concern was a check out in the airplane. I had a good chunk of taildragger time in my log, but it was over several years old, and I never had soloed one. My total time wasn’t bad, but I needed a good check out. I found a young instructor at Harvey Young who flew taildraggers, and we got in the airplane the first sunny day we had. The summer of 1979 was pretty wet.

Going over the panel, I realized there was no mixture control. I don’t know if that was an option in 1946 or just not available. The service ceiling in the POH (such as it was) listed a service ceiling higher than a Cessna 150, so it would have been running really rich up there. You shut down the engine with the magneto switch; no other option.

We got to the end of the runway, went through the checklist, and then I pushed the wheel forward and opened the throttle. The tail came up quickly as that little 85-horse Continental let out its throaty hum. We were just about to lift off when the engine started coughing.

The instructor and I looked at each other. His face was the definition of disbelief, and I imagine mine was the same. Then I called out “Abort!” and pulled the throttle back. We had lots of runway left, so getting stopped was no problem. We got it off the runway just as the engine died.

Remember I said the interior was on the rough side? Well, one of the things missing was the placard around the fuel valve, the one that says which tank you’re running on. It felt like the same positions as a modern Cessna, LEFT-BOTH-RIGHT, but the center position on the 120 isn’t BOTH, it’s OFF, and that’s where we had it. If the taxi had been a couple minutes shorter, we would have been off the ground with the gas turned off. Good start.

I soloed quickly, and then spent a total of about three hours getting to know the airplane and just having fun. The airplane was a dream to fly. The controls were light and responsive, with nary a quirk that I ever found. The cabin had skylights installed, which made for great visibility. Never before (or since) have I had an airplane all to myself and it was a wonderful thing. But now it was time to turn my attention to planning the route.

Flying the VORs was out, and this was way before GPS, so it looked like my alternative was old style IFR—I Follow Roads. To make life a little easier, I called AAA and had them make me up a travel plan, sticking to major highways. Then I took the TripTik route and transferred it to my sectionals. Presto! Instant route!

I did make one change. A friend of mine in Western Massachusetts warned me against trying to fly the infamous “Hell’s Stretch” through the Allegheny Mountains. This is a very scenic route to drive, but it was the death of many an early airmail pilot. In nothing flat the ceiling can come down and the visibility vanish, leaving you to try to squirm your way through while staying clear of cumulo granite. I decided to go further north and follow the Lake Erie shoreline up to New York and then head east.

I had intended to just camp out with the airplane wherever I could, sleeping under the wing in the old barnstormer’s tradition, but I had a last minute companion join me who wasn’t too thrilled with that idea.

We took off and headed up into Missouri. Our first stop was in Rolla, a town I’d flown over lots of times. The power connector on the radio had worked itself loose, and for some reason it seemed really important to get it working again.

Hard to get lost with that monument out the window.

Interstate 44 slid beneath our wings, and St. Louis loomed up in the distance. Skirting around the TCA, we got a good look at the Arch, the co-pilot flying the airplane while I took pictures. Then it was over the Mississippi and into Illinois.

Remember what I said about it being a wet summer? Well, a front had pushed its way through Tulsa a day or so before our departure, and now we found ourselves running into the back of it once we crossed into Indiana. So somewhere short of Terre Haute, we called it quits for the first day.

The guy at the gas pumps asked us if we were going to Oshkosh. The EAA event was about to begin and we were flying the right hardware. We said no, that we were going the other way, but he still gave us a lift to the nearest hotel.

I’ve looked in my logbook and checked the Internet, but many of the airports we stopped at appear to have vanished long since. Most of them, as I remember, were in the middle of cornfields. Now they’re probably shopping malls or industrial parks.

We kept dodging the backside of that cold front for the next three days. Every day we’d fly a few hours, catch up to it, and stop for the night. We became well acquainted with Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and upstate New York. We went above 3,000 feet AGL maybe once or twice and couldn’t believe how alien the world looked from 5,500 feet. One of our best navigational aids was a pair of binoculars that made it easier to read the town names on the water towers. Pilotage let us down only once, when a huge stretch of new Interstate in western New York blew all our landmarks away.

Our last stop was in the Berkshires of Massachusetts. We spent a day or two with an old friend of mine, walking the streets of Stockbridge, swimming in the farm pond and playing with the dogs. It was a great end to the trip.

The final destination was Hanscom Field (BED), northwest of Boston. It’s a controlled airport, and that little radio’s transmitter had packed up for good. It was putting out nothing but a carrier, so I filed a no-radio flight plan to Hanscom and we blasted off for the big city. This was before the days of the “Mode C veil.”

We found the airport with no problem, but when I tried calling the tower they came back with “Aircraft calling Hanscom tower, say again, you’re unreadable.” I gave them another holler, and then that kind young lady in the glass booth said “Aircraft calling Hanscom, if this is Cessna 76646, click your mike button twice.” I gave her the double click, and she gave us the advisory and cleared us to land. No sweat. Journey over.

It’s been 26 years, but those five days of my life still live on in mind and film. It had its dark side, however. Just a few weeks after the trip ended the young lady who accompanied me, my college girlfriend, killed herself.

I’d had a running correspondence with Gordon Baxter for years. I poured out much of what I’ve written above to him in a letter, some of it more personal. I was not surprised to get a letter back on that parchment stationery with the brown ink he used, but I was surprised to have my own letter fall out along with his. It read:

David,

Thanks for sharing your inner heart with me.

I’m sending back your letter. I don’t know if you keep stuff—but I do know you’ll never tell this story so beautifully again.

Your friend,

Bax

Somehow knowing that what I had to say about her, me, the airplane and our trip together had touched one of the greatest storytellers I’ve ever known made me feel better. Bax is gone, but I still have his letters, my pictures, my memories, and the airplane is still flying. After forty years, you can’t ask for much more than that.

The post Summers long ago: a 1500-mile trip in a Cessna 120 appeared first on Air Facts Journal.

from Engineering Blog https://airfactsjournal.com/2019/11/summers-long-ago-a-1500-mile-trip-in-a-cessna-120/

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Pound it! Ten Takeaways from Eagles 26, Chargers 24

Sometime during the second quarter of the Eagles’ 26-24 Sunday win, a FOX producer took us to commercial break with audio of Old Dirty Bastard’s “Shimmy Shimmy Ya.”

Oooo baby I like it raw. Yea baby I like it raaawwww!

It was an accurate foreshadowing, as the Birds raw-dogged the Chargers with a 13-play, six-minute drive to finish off the road victory.

Last year’s Eagles might have found a way to lose this one.

Instead, Doug Pederson called a great game, Carson Wentz played smart football, and a banged up defense did enough to get the job done on the “road,” which was actually a soccer stadium filled with Eagles fans.

Most important, I think, was the way they came out after an emotional home win last week. Don’t sleep on the “letdown” angle of this ballgame. Even after another shaky start to the fourth quarter, the offense rallied with a dominant drive to put away Los Angeles, or “San Diego,” as Mark Schlereth would say.

So the Birds are 3-1 overall and 2-0 in the division, with the Cowboys and Giants losing on Sunday and the Redskins probably losing tonight. They’ve won more road games this year than the entirety of 2016 and four of the next five are at Lincoln Financial Field.

It’s hard to find much to complain about at this point. Instead of wondering whether this team is any good, we’re wondering just how good they can be, though it’s fair to point out that they did start 3-1 last year.

1. Is this.. a three-headed monster?

The Birds ran for 214 yards behind a 51 to 49 run/pass ratio (sort of). There were 37 called runs and 36 called pass plays, which really skews to 35/36 because of two quarterback kneels at the end of the game.

Basically it’s as close to 50/50 as you’re going to get.

LeGarrette Blount ran it 16 times while Wendell Smallwood and Corey Clement handled it 10 times each, so not only was the play calling balanced, but the distribution among the backs was very even as well.

Smallwood took the type of snaps that Darren Sproles would get, running mostly out of the shotgun. Blount was used from under center formations primarily, but they did try a couple east/west shotgun looks that obviously didn’t work.

Here’s Blount’s chart:

Notice that his least effective runs were east/west head scratchers?

Maybe most interesting was the fourth quarter usage of Clement, as he converted third downs on his 9th and 10th carries of the game. That follows up last week’s fourth quarter touchdown run. It’s strange to see Pederson go to the rookie in the final stages of these games, but he’s answered the call with success now two weeks in a row. Credit where it’s due.

2. Bend it like Jake Elliott

I haven’t seen anyone kick the ball like that since David Beckham played in this stadium!

Hurr hurr hurr! A soccer joke!

Anyway, Jake Elliott nailed kicks from 40, 45, 47, and 53 yards in this game, and not a single one looked iffy. If he finished 3/4 we’re talking about a 24-23 Eagles loss.

It looks like the kicking game isn’t going to be an issue, but let’s not get carried away:

Are we taking Jake Elliott for granted already? When he went for that 51-52 yard FG, I legit stood up and almost left to go to the bathroom

— GoBirds (@joslewis) October 1, 2017

3. I don’t get it

The Eagles “left guard by committee” thing continues.

Stefan Wisniewski started the game, then ended up splitting time again with Chance Warmack. From that point on, it looked like they switched every two series, but I’m not really sure what the logic is behind the move. Wisniewski was playing fine as the Eagles took a 10-0 lead on their first two drives.

We’ll see what Doug has to say about this on Monday afternoon.

4. Throw the ball down the field

Sean Cottrell wrote last week about Carson Wentz’s deep ball ability. There were a variety of reasons why he was misfiring on passes of 20 yards or more.

This week, he nailed a couple of these looks, including this seam-splitter to Zach Ertz:

Perfect trajectory and touch again by Wentz on the seam route, this time hitting Ertz in stride for 38 yds http://pic.twitter.com/VjgkNSFs80

— The Bitter Birds (@AdrianFedkiw) October 1, 2017

Wentz had another great ball for Torrey Smith, which the wide receiver dropped.

It’s a clean pocket, a quick drop, feet set, and right on the money:

http://ift.tt/2g4DC7o

Smith, to his credit, acknowledged the play after the game:

In the middle of the worst stretch of my career…I'll bounce back…proud of the team

— Torrey Smith (@TorreySmithWR) October 1, 2017

Wentz finished 2/6 for 74 yards on passes in that 20+ yard range. He would have finished 3/6 for ~101 yards if Smith had made that grab.

5. Max protect and beat ’em deep

Last week, the Eagles played soft coverage underneath to protect a young secondary and keep Chris Maragos from having to deal with Odell Beckham, Jr. and company in space.

Even with Rodney McLeod back in the fold, it was somewhat similar this week, though the Chargers were much better at gaining yards after the play and the Birds’ tackling was subpar.

The only time they were really torched deep was the first touchdown, when Tyrell Williams got past Rasul Douglas:

75-yard TD!

Philip Rivers launches it DEEP to Tyrell Williams for a @Chargers score. #Chargers #PHIvsLAC http://pic.twitter.com/0cn0Uvut9G

— NFL (@NFL) October 1, 2017

You notice in that clip that the Eagles safeties are nowhere to be found.

When you rewind, you see the Chargers in max protect against a four-man rush. The safeties back off a bit but then bite on the play-action, plus the intermediate route from the second receiver, which gives Williams a chance to beat Douglas with a double move and take it to the house.

You see both safeties at the far left of that clip bite, while Jalen Mills (top left) realizes what’s happening, but can’t bail out Douglas until Williams is already gone.

6. If it ain’t broke..

Running the ball led to success with play-action, and the Eagles abused it with some really nice slants.

They ran the same play two times in a row in the second quarter for gains of 12 and 14 yards, respectively:

http://ift.tt/2g4ye46

Later, they ran it again for a big gain and called it another time unsuccessfully, which was a less accurate pass that might have involved some pass interference against Ertz.

I’m pretty sure they ran the above play four times.

And why not? If it’s working, keep doing it. Doug did the same thing in Week 3 with a pair of back-to-back sweep plays for Smallwood.

7. Protecting the football

For the first time this season, the Eagles didn’t turn the ball over.

Outside of Carson Wentz recovering his own fumble, there really weren’t any hairy moments in this department.

The Birds have seven takeaways and five turnovers this season for a +2 margin. Detroit leads the league with a +9 while Chicago bottoms out at -7.

8. Doug’s worst call?

I didn’t like the decision to throw short of the sticks on third down during the first drive. LA bailed out the Birds with an offside call.

I’m also not sure about running Smallwood on third and 8 on the first drive of the third quarter. It seemed like Wentz may have called an audible there.

The only other thing that stood out to me was the decision to try to pound it in multiple times after Blount’s ridiculous beast mode run. They ran him twice up the middle, which was fine, but then tried to go east/west, which didn’t work. The Chargers again took a terrible penalty (hands to the face) to keep the drive alive.

9. Doug’s best call?

Big fan of the fake end-around screen play on the second drive. They tried something similar later in the series that almost blew up in the backfield, but Wentz was able to find Blount on the other side of the field for another big gain.

I thought it was the right move to punt on that fourth and short before the half. Even if LA made a big gain to start out the ensuing drive, it was a pass underneath and a poor tackle attempt, not a scenario where they were two passes away from setting up a field goal.

I also thought the hand off to Clement in the third quarter to set up the Wentz sneak was the appropriate “four down territory” type of play call.

10. “Home field” advantage

Yeah, it was great to see all of those Eagles fans in the house, but it’s sad that a NFL team is sharing a stadium with the Los Angeles Galaxy, who used to share that stadium with the now-defunct Chivas USA. Carson, California is kinda crappy anyway.

Los Angeles doesn’t need two NFL teams. Do they even need one? We’re gonna go from having teams in San Diego, Oakland, and Saint Louis, to having two in LA and one in Las Vegas. That seems kind of redundant to me.

It’s bad enough watching MLS teams like the New England Revolution share a field with the Patriots, then play on turf with football lines painted on the field. It’s another thing to see the penalty area and soccer markings in a 27,000 capacity arena that now hosts professional football (as a secondary tenant).

Surely there was a better way to handle this.

Chargers in legit trouble. Check out amount of empty seats in the best sections of StubHub Center (27,000 capacity) http://pic.twitter.com/2jb8GLGJSv

— Darren Rovell (@darrenrovell) October 1, 2017

Struggles from the booth

I’m not gonna rag too much on Dick Stockton and Mark Schlereth for continually saying “San Diego” instead of “Los Angeles.” It’s gonna take time for people to get used to the fact that the Chargers are playing in a new city.

There were some other weird moments, though, such as Alshon Jeffery being called Alshon “Jefferies” multiple times, and a moment where I’m pretty sure Stockton said “loans” when he meant to say “Lowe’s.”

Stockton also mentioned at the end of the game that a touchdown would ice it for the Eagles, but LA didn’t have any remaining timeouts, so they just took a knee instead. I swear I also heard one of the two call Carson Wentz “Carson Palmer,” but maybe I was losing it at that point.

The most bizarre moment was right after the Eagles went up 16-7, when C.S. Lewis’ fantasy world of “Narnia” was invoked.

Schlereth: “One of my favorite players, right here, Jason Peters. You watch him one-on-one, with with the defensive back that comes off the corner. Look at this right here. Look at this move. I don’t know where he went to school. I think he went to the University of Narnia, because you cannot be that big and that athletic and that smooth. I love it.”

Stockton: “I got my master’s (degree) at that school.”

Schlereth: “Did you?”

Stockton: “Third down and eight…”

Pound it! Ten Takeaways from Eagles 26, Chargers 24 published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

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What We Learned: St. Louis Blues bungle another player decision

(Hello, this is a feature that will run through the entire season and aims to recap the weekend’s events and boils those events down to one admittedly superficial fact or stupid opinion about each team. Feel free to complain about it.)

On Friday afternoon, the St. Louis Blues extended Patrik Berglund for five years and $3.85 million.

It goes without saying that it’s easy to get your mind stuck in the past a little bit, when $3.85 million was a pretty good-sized amount of money in the NHL’s cap structure. These days it’s only a little more than 5 percent of the total cap, so it’s not a killer or anything.

But this deal in particular also isn’t a good idea.

For one thing, there’s the term. Five years for what will be a 29-year-old middle-six forward who netted 137 points in his previous 327 games before the season started — about 34 per 82 games — doesn’t seem like a good investment.

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And he’s on pace for less than that this year, by the way. He has 17-7-24 in 60 games, which puts him at about 33 points. To be fair, it will be his first time clearing 30 points since 2013-14. Which, hey wait a second, why do you give that guy five years and a $150,000 raise on his current deal?

Well, you’ll never ever guess what happened. From Feb. 4-11, Berglund scored six goals in five games, including a hat trick at Montreal. So it turns out GM Doug Armstrong bought about as high as he possibly could on a player who’s fifth in 5-on-5 ice time on his team and drives possession a little bit, but whose primary production falls somewhere between that of Kyle Brodziak and the ghost of Alex Steen’s career.

Again, the money isn’t totally horrible but there’s also no need whatsoever to give out this contract. A raise is unjustifiable, but it’s minimal. The term is unconscionable. And it’s not the first time Armstrong has shown little to no understanding of how to evaluate his own players.

Look at the other big issue facing the Blues right now: The will-they-won’t-they with Kevin Shattenkirk. Trade him? Keep him? It’s been going on for years now. And while everyone has been praising Alex Pietrangelo to the heavens, he has consistently been the third-best defenseman on this team for two years now, behind both Colton Parayko and Shattenkirk. Why the hurry to offload a guy who drives your offense that much? He leads the Blues ‘D’ in primary points per 60 minutes across all situations the last two seasons, and by a sizable margin: The gap between Shattenkirk and Parayko is roughly equivalent to the gap between Parayko and Jay Bouwmeester.

Well, part of the reason for the do-si-do with Shattenkirk is obviously money, because he’s reportedly rejecting six years and $7 million AAV offers left, right, and center from potential suitors. The Blues don’t really have the cap space to make that work because Parayko needs a new contract this summer as well.

After the new Berglund deal, the Blues have about $8.5 million in cap space for next season with 18 players signed. Parayko needs a new deal, which should consume a huge chunk of that space. So yeah, you can argue Shattenkirk just got squeezed out by the flat cap.

But you know what would help them afford Shattenkirk — who in fact is fourth in the League in all-situations points per 60 over the past two seasons, behind only Burns, Hedman, and Hamilton — going forward?

If the middle of their lineup wasn’t glutted with wastes of money like Berglund.

After all, it wasn’t so long ago that the Blues gave Alex Steen, a fine player at the time, a huge new contract because he scored 24 goals in the first 34 games of the 2013-14 season. His career high to that point had been 24, rather coincidentally. What the Blues got in the three years over which that contract spanned has been the definition of diminishing returns: 24-40-64 the first year (very good!), 17-35-52 the second (also pretty good!), and then this year just12-27-39, and without the possession numbers that always made that contract stronger getting worse.

And they extended him for basically the same money and three more years before this season even started. That’s beginning to look like rather a bad investment in terms of on-ice value delivered per dollar, especially because Steen is almost 33 even before the new deal starts and has missed time in each of the past three seasons.

According to Corsica’s Similarity Calculator, the player Steen’s current season looks like most across all current statistical categories is Chuck Kobasew in 2007-08. (For the record, Berglund’s current closest comparable is last year’s version of Nick Bjugstad.) If people don’t like how Steen’s $5.8 million AAV looks now, wait until he’s 36 and still making $5.75 million.

And I mean, you can do this all day with the Blues roster. When I initially said I didn’t like the Berglund extension, a lot of Blues fans were quick to point of that it’s not as bad as having Jori Lehtera signed for two more seasons at $4.7 million. In point of fact, both deals can be ill-advised simultaneously. Lehtera signed that deal when he was coming off a 14-30-44 season as he broke into the NHL at age 27. Only on Feb. 16 did he surpass his goal production from that first season, netting his 16th in 132 games against the Canucks.

Armstrong, it seems, always wants to buy as high as possible but is never really content with the few bargains he’s put on his roster. After all, look at the Blues goaltending debacle this season that cost a legendary coach his job; it’s easily avoidable if Armstrong sticks with Brian Elliott, who did nothing but deliver sterling performances for the Blues (.925 in 181 games).

Elliott was perceived as not-good-enough in 2014, so Armstrong brought in Ryan Miller, who imploded hilariously (.903 in 19 games in the regular season, .897 in six in the postseason) and was never going to stick around even if he hadn’t. Then Armstrong got Martin Brodeur (.899 in seven appearances) because he thought Elliott wasn’t good enough. Then Armstrong decided he would platoon Elliott (.930 in 42 games last season) with Allen (.920 in 47), and it worked pretty well even if the wrong guy was the 1b. And when it came time to make a decision, he traded Elliott to Calgary, only to see the goalie sign for $2.5 million against the cap.

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So when it comes to the Blues, you can expect one thing above all others: Armstrong will not properly assess your quality before deciding how to deal with your contract situation. That seems like something to which you can set your watch.

It also seems like a big problem for the team going forward.

What We Learned

Anaheim Ducks: Seems like potentially a lot to give up for Patrick Eaves, but he’s a good player and they needed a lot of help in attack.

Arizona Coyotes: They should trade Shane Doan but they never ever will.

Boston Bruins: Don Sweeney is a damn genius. He’s gonna stand pat at the deadline. Incredible job preservation. If you don’t make moves and you’re in “evaluation mode” you keep your job even longer! You can tell my man went to Harvard.

Buffalo Sabres: A loss to the Avs, even coming out of the bye week, still isn’t in any way excusable.

Calgary Flames: They really ought to take him up on this.

Carolina Hurricanes: Bad take on a team that is clearly improving sharply.

Chicago: Tomas Jurco will really fit in with this team’s culture; like Jonathan Toews, he’s been sacrificing offense to play defense so much this year and that’s why he doesn’t have literally any points.

Colorado Avalanche: This is me doing the thinking guy emoji.

Columbus Blue Jackets: John Tortorella is such a good coach. He told his team to score a lot of goals after the bye week and not allow any. That’s just smart.

Dallas Stars: Love games with built-in excuses.

Detroit Red Wings: Their GM. Next question.

Edmonton Oilers: Yeah the Oilers should definitely trade for this unbelievable defenseman who probably isn’t actually on the market.

Florida Panthers: Is that… no it couldn’t be. It’s depth scoring? For the Panthers?

Los Angeles Kings: Watch this team go on a run and everyone says it’s because Quick is the best goalie alive.

Minnesota Wild: Zoinks am I getting sick of hearing about the bye like it’s haunting an abandoned amusement park that four teens and a talking dog have to go investigate.

Montreal Canadiens: Not sure if you guys have heard, but they like it when the Habs coach speaks a little language we all know and love that is called French.

Nashville Predators: These are my good boys.

New Jersey Devils: It took an OT loss to the Rangers to tell you this?

New York Islanders: I’m crying over here.

New York Rangers: If it only costs you a first and JT Miller to get Kevin Shattenkirk, that’s a trade you make every time.

Ottawa Senators: This is my son.

Not much scares @ErikKarlsson65 but this guy did….???? @DAlfredsson11 pic.twitter.com/Fe4lXTOtY7

— Jesper Parnevik (@JesperParnevik) February 25, 2017

Philadelphia Flyers: Get this guy out of the damn league already.

Pittsburgh Penguins: Honestly, Crosby is having an incredible season. Feels like we’re not talking about that enough.

San Jose Sharks: Yup. Correct take here.

St. Louis Blues: Shattenkirk can’t win.

Tampa Bay Lightning: So much about the Lightning’s recent success boils down to Jonathan Drouin playing in video game mode.

Toronto Maple Leafs: Now that’s a good American boy.

Vancouver Canucks: Why do the Canucks stink “all of a sudden?” Oh yeah, the uh… mumps.

Vegas Golden Knights: How much of “being busy” is just George McPhee sitting around in his office frowning at a computer?

Washington Capitals: Shoutout to Barry Trotz in advance because I will probably forget about that whole “700 wins” thing when it actually happens.

Winnipeg Jets: The future is kinda bright in Winnipeg, which is what happens when you never make the playoffs.

Play of the Weekend

In the immortal words of Larry David, this 2nd period goal by @FlaPanthers prospect @punanen5 was pretty… pretty… pretty good. #SCTop10 pic.twitter.com/Cbn0YjlqET

— Denver Hockey (@DU_Hockey) February 26, 2017

Henrik Borgstrom is a Panthers prospect.

Gold Star Award

The real stars of the League are the live penguins at the outdoor game. I want to hug and kiss them all.

Minus of the Weekend

Deleted Ducks tweet was a gif of Kesler knocking Carter down with one punch. pic.twitter.com/aPm69YyUvF

— Platinum Seat Ghosts (@3rdPeriodSuits) February 25, 2017

The Ducks tweeting that one-punch on Jeff Carter like “haha this was so cool” is a pretty good illustration of how fighting in hockey and anyone who likes it are so stupid.

Perfect HFBoards Trade Proposal of the Year

User “SHANNYPLAN” is a guy who I have no idea what city he’s from at all. No idea. Impossible to tell.

Wayne Simmonds

for

James VanRiemsdyk Andreas Johnsson 1st 2017 (cond) or 2nd

Signoff

C

Ryan Lambert is a Puck Daddy columnist. His email is here and his Twitter is here.

(All stats via Corsica unless otherwise noted.)

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