#hockey ff

[victorianpuckbunny]

Y/n and the (sp)ice boys🏒

[atwhughesversion]

thx a lot kelly sutherland that’s a square i didn’t want to cross off

[withlovealwqys]

melting me softly

summery:

after her exchange year she just wants to have the best time with her friends. The last thing she was looking for was love.

after his accident at the championship qualifications life was living hell. The last thing he was looking for was love.

start: soon

Introduction part1 | part2

1. she’s back

taglist open <3

@peachyproductions @lhcread @peachyproductions @thisisnotjacinta @liliansun @neozon3nha @lovesuhng @n0hyuck @jiawji @gomdojun @jinnieboosworld @nappywoo @yyangj3lly

[0oolookitsme]

It's Buzzcut Season, Anyways!

Eeeeekk!!!! Hi Hi everyone!! I hope you are all doing well, here comes the first post of the year! <3

So.. It is my birthday today, and I'm very excited to tell you that I'm introducing to you, another one of my pairings! This a little excerpt from the fic (wip) I'm writing about this chaotic pairing, and I really do hope this gets you as excited about their story, as I am! This was supposed to be up in December but for some reason, I didn't post it?? Anyways, other than that, you shall see more, further on in 2024 :)

Also, shoutout to @cupid-styles and @elioslover for picking my ice hockey!Harry to be the one to get a buzzcut, hahah! My indecisive self (who lowkey wanted you guys to pick him), could've never 💗

All the love always, A.

Verse - NHL Player!Harry x Figure Skater!Y/n (uni era)

Word Count - It's just an excerpt so it's short!

Warnings - None that I can find but if there are any, do tell me and I'll edit them into this!

Y/n is reluctantly trimming Harry's hair when her nose feels funny, and she sneezes. Its good though, that Harry asks for her opinion regarding a change that he would rather appreciate.

Please rb to share! | Masterlist

Y/n sat on her unmade bed, hair unbrushed and messy since she woke up from a 3-hour nap. Her fingers typed away on her laptop, her face showing zero signs of any stress regarding the assignment she's going to have to turn in un-edited.

Probably because of the breakdown she'd had before taking nap. She'd been so stressed that she had drawn blood from her lips and broken two of her nails -- which was rather disappointing to her considering she'd got them done not so long ago in the honour of the upcoming season of winter.

The temperature was still as hot as summer, but half of the world was snowed in, and she wanted the peace of mind that winter brought her; so, she deluded herself into thinking that it was indeed her favourite time of the year.

A silent burp made its way up her throat, as she drank the day-old diet coke she'd been drinking before her meltdown-that-leads-to-an-amazing-nap.

Just as she slurped on the last sip that wasn't anything but melted ice, she heard the door to the flat open and her eyes rose up just in time to catch the sight of a sweaty and out of breath Harry, through the open door of her room.

"Y/n?" He called for her, walking towards her room when she only hummed in response. He passed her an apologetic smile on reaching her doorframe, and she knew he was going to ask something of her that the both of them know she wouldn't be willing to do quite easily.

"I need your help," he grinned at her. "...And Immediately."

She looked at him suspiciously, before deciding to shift her focus back on her assignment, knowing that he would lure her in if she were to continue looking at him.

But Harry was at once kneeling beside the side of bed she was sitting on. With his hands joined, he contorted his face in a way that looked like he was about to cry. "I beg of you, please! If you don't help me right now, my life will be ruined forever!"

Y/n's eyes had fallen into untrusting slits by now as she minimized the document that she had been writing in. "What is it, Harry?" She asked him in a monotonous tone, shutting her laptop as if procrastinating the essay any longer would be a great help.

"Cut my hair."

Instantly her jaw dropped open. Shaking her head, she began reopening her laptop and Harry took a hold of her wrists. "Harry, there's no way!" She yelped as he began making her get off the bed.

"I'm not asking you to give me haircut like Zayn!" He exclaimed, as if that'd ease her. "Just trim it a bit," he shrugged, walking out into the small living-room with Y/n thrashing behind him. She even threw a few hands at him, but he had a feeling that she wasn't as opposed by the idea as she was pretending to.

He pulled out a chair in front of the mirror that, though they had been living in this flat for nearly two months, had yet to be pinned to the wall. "C'mon, you work at a salon -- surely you know how to trim a guy's hair," he teased her, knowing that questioning her abilities would get to her and she'd cut his hair better than any hairdresser ever could.

Looking at her reflection glaring at him through the mirror, he winked at her before bending down to unzip his bag. He pulled out an electric trimmer from inside it and handed it to her, pulling the towel from the coffee table that he had left there earlier in the morning.

Once done draping it over his shoulders, he handed her the trimmer and added a touch of his puppy-dog eyes even though he knew they simply don't work on her.

"Okay. If you end up bald, don't complain then," she grumbled before running her hand through his hair. "Is this sweat or did you wash your hair after practice?" Her face was already contorted in disgust, like she knew he surely couldn't have done the latter.

"Don't you worry, I washed it after practice," he assured her, looking at her as if she should appreciate him.

She turned on the trimmer and held his hair in sections by one of her hands. "Why didn't you go to a salon?" She asked him, trimming the hair on his sides with her mouth parted.

Harry shrugged and immediately retorted when Y/n shrieked, mumbling an apology. "The salon's too far. I don't have the time to get there; got a handful of assignments to turn in before midnight." He told her. "And I mean, saving some money never hurt anyone."

"You do realize that I've put doing my assignment on pause to do this silly shenanigan with you?" Her eyebrows rose up as she fired another question at him. She suppressed a smile when he passed a dimpled-lopsided grin to her. "God, I hate you," she said, and a smile slipped on her lips as she moved to the other side to trim the rest of his hair.

She had no reason to be doing a parttime job at a salon, it wasn't going to help her in the future in any way, but it did help her in the present with its money. The money she got by being apprenticed to a dance company went straight into the flat-bills and some other necessary purchases that she couldn't avoid.

But she wasn't complaining about it. Living among frat people was a nightmare for her. She did have fun with people but being a clean-freak and a morning person didn't match well with the frats. They did love her dearly, but when Harry came in asking if someone would be willing to be his flat mate, everyone had chanted for Y/n. And, when he asked Y/n at the rink, she had quite literally jumped at the opportunity and in the joy of the moment, hugged Harry with a tight grip that still had his heartbeat rise whenever he thought about it.

With her touching his hair, Harry's heart was beating so hard in his chest that he was afraid it was going to break a rib. His eyes never once left her reflection in the mirror, not with the way she was being so careful and serious. Her lips had parted without her knowing, and she wasn't even blinking often enough.

That was when Harry saw a hair-strand fall in her face, and her face scrunch up in a way it does when she's about to sneeze. He saw as she turned to sneeze in her elbow -- a habit that she still hadn't gotten rid of. He shifted his gaze down on his hands in his lap, to prevent her catching him staring at her.

When Y/n caught her breath after the sneeze, her eyes grew wide. Her hand began shaking as she brought the other hand to cover her mouth, looking at his head in horror. She wasn't sure if she should laugh or begin spewing apologies and decided on the latter one.

But as she opened her mouth, Harry looked at her. "Should I just buzz it off?" He questioned her and thought that she had paled at the thought of him going bald. "I mean, the match season is finally over. I don't have anything to do but study, do my parttime and of course practice hockey." He shrugged explaining his point of view, looking at her to help him decided.

"S-sure! I mean, you'd look good with any-any type of haircut." She was shaking and stuttering, but Harry was too lost in his train of thoughts to question her. "A-and its buzzcut season, anyways!"

That seemed to be helpful for Harry. He smiled at her, "Shave it off, then. I'm basically on vacation from tomorrow... and I guess I'd really appreciate a change like this!" He was back to grinning and Y/n's sweat was beginning to cool off.

She imagined sitting with Harry on a sofa on some ordinary-night with her feet in his lap like he were her closest friend and telling him about today -- a movie playing on the lowest volume possible in the background. She stopped herself before she could get lost thinking about his reaction and mess up even his buzzcut.

[v8mpvrse]

my theory for eddie’s arc in s8:

so i think by now we’ve all picked up on the fact this man needs severe therapy! jokes aside i really think chris leaving BECAUSE of him will be the final straw and eddie this time will be going to therapy and sticking to it, similar to s5 where he told frank he also went for chris yk.

so he goes to therapy to work out the root of how he’s the “problem” and how he’s “broken” and he yk goes through the history of his failed romantic relationships and at one point frank picks up on the catholic guilt. and similar to when maddie went to frank for doug and he sent her to big bear, frank tells eddie to go to a church. because the church STILL holds so much power over eddie’s decisions and how he views things and even who he is and what parts he ignores. which would fit in the eddie realizing he’s gay storyline perfectly bc ofc he would repress that shit HE COULDNT HAVE SEX WITH HIS GF AFTER FINDING OUT SHE WAS A NUN. “reservoir of catholic guilt” hmmmmm interesting….. like i’m also pretty sure he went to catholic school?

so like latino catholic in texas who went to catholic school, teen dad who married his first gf (bc he got her pregnant) bc of the church, whose been told since he was a CHILD to be “man enough”, who served in the military. CMON. HELLO. he could never at any point explore and figure out WHO he was. he was ALWAYS given a title. needs to be man enough. is a father. is a husband. is a solider. is a single father. is a firefighter. those are his roles and he STICKS BY THEM CANT BE ANYTHING ELSE. BC HE IS A DAD FIRST but now with chris gone he’s all alone. again. and for real this time. and he has to learn who he is. who is eddie diaz. not the father, the solider or the firefighter. who. is. eddie. diaz.

point being early special thanks to frank the therapist and firework priest 🙏 yall doing the lords work ironically enough LMFAO

[finnesse]

aj greer and ofc one last scrum | FLA @ UTA (January 8, 2025)

[strvlightreads]

so I just looked at my old dick grayson fic ideas and I was COOKING. we had dick x a single mom WHOS daughter just absolutely adored him and loves to talk about dinosaurs to him. THEN we have a HOCKEY AU where dick ends up in a closing restaurant sobbing his eyes out and the fmc has to like kick him out but it’s dick grayson leader of the hockey team that’s mean?? also just fluff and they help each other deal with trauma ! another was like the owner of a twenty four seven bakery or something has to deal with dick after he crahses through their bakery window. another day in bludhaven ig? finally, a simple one about dick having his police partner help him as nightwing but that was boring tbh.

[the-wavesinger]

i am going to get on a plane and fly to Boston (and take the commuter rail by they're in fucking Lowell ugh) and fucking strangle this team I swear to god

[jimothystu]

This is fucking ridiculous. G’s been in the league for about 15 years now, so he knows what the fuck he’s talking about. People on X saying the team “needs” all this negativity and “needs” to stop whining clearly are not fucking listening to what any of the players are saying. They’re tired of it. They hear it, they understand the fans are frustrated but so! Are! They!!! They’re frustrated! They’re tired! They are trying!!!!

And Brady, a 24 year old, needing to delete the social media apps from his phone because the negativity is so much?? Fucking disgusting.

Harassing the team and staff needs to stop. Get frustrated sure. Be annoyed. But remember these are people too. They have fucking feelings. And at the end of the day IT IS JUST A SPORT. IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN.

[victorianpuckbunny]

Ignored || Q. Hughes/ E. Petterson

protagonists: Quinn Hughes, Elias Petterson, Jack Hughes (mentioned), Trevor Zegras (mentioned)

synopsis: Elias Petterson is annoying and Quinn Hughes is annoyed.

authors note: Not edited and actually just a product of my overtired brain. The whole thing is based on the interview In which Quinn said that Petey sometimes asks him the strangest questions and then he just ignores him while scrolling on his phone until Petey gets offended and ignores him back. Also based on my own experience with my roommate, who is basically the reason for my sleep deprivation - thanks for deciding during exam time that it would be cool to watch tv shows all night long in our shared room with the light on. Also thanks for asking me the dumbest shit ever whenever I just want to read or sleep.

(Was written before the trades)

"Good game today, huh?" says Petey, dumping the content of his gym bag on the bed. Quinn, who is already lying in his bed on the opposite side of the room, hums in agreement. He holds his phone in his dainty hands and watches the recording of today's game. He keeps rewinding, pressing slow motion and analyzing every movement.

Petey makes his way through the hotel room, pushing Quinn's bag aside with his foot. "What are you looking at, Cap? Today's game?"

Quinn only hums in response. He's had a headache all day and it's only gotten worse since the game. Especially after he was dragged aside for an incredibly unnecessary interview on the way to the locker room.

He should actually put his phone away and sleep instead, but he needs to get an overview of what he needs to pay more attention to at the next training session and where the weak points are.

"Oh fuck, I forgot my shampoo."

Out of the corner of his eye, Quinn notices Petey rummaging around in Quinn's bag. "I'll borrow your shampoo for a minute, huggy bear," he informs him.

Elias Petterson has been one of his best friends and his favorite roommate for years. Most of the time, anyway. But today Quinn would prefer a single room. He sighs quietly and turns back to the game. A message from Jack pops up on his screen.

Z invited himself over for dinner and is currently complaining to Mom and Dad about you, lol. Seriously, good game, I'm proud of you, Q.

A grin crosses Quinn's pale face. Winning against the anaheim ducks is almost enough to make up for the five weeks he had to put up with Trevor Zegras in the lake house this summer. It's not even that Quinn doesn't like him. Trevor and Jack in a double pack is about as relaxing as a sack of fleas. The only thing that can top that is if Cole is in the game.

Through the thin wall, Quinn hears the shower in the bathroom turn on and a little later Petey starts singing in swedish.

Off-key and loud.

Quinn just texts Jack a thumbs up before he goes back to recording the game, regretting having lent Millsy his headphones on the way back to the hotel.

"Tits or ass?" asks Petey as he comes out of the bathroom freshly showered. His light blond hair is still wet and the fresh smell of eucalyptus surrounds him. Quinn doesn't answer, but stares at his phone with a frown.

"Huggy?"

No answer.

"Quintin!"

Now Quinn looks up reluctantly.

"Tits or ass?" repeats Petey and looks expectantly at the dark-haired man.

"What? Don't know, bud. Both I guess."

"U can't say both."

Quinn blinks exhaustedly. "Why?" He watches his best friend collapse onto the bed opposite.

"I dunno, dude. It's just like that."

"Okay. Tits."

Petey nods contentedly, as if Quinn had answered a quiz question correctly.

Just as he is about to return to the hockey game, Petey interrupts him again by asking what he thinks about socks in bed. Quinn wrinkles his nose. "Elias, please..."

The swede mimics him in a high voice before sitting up and stuffing his things, which he had carelessly emptied out while looking for the shampoo, back into his bag. "Cmon man, the game is over, we won, stop thinking about it."

Quinn turns on his side so that Petey hopefully understands that he actually just wants to be left alone.

"Would you rather have both arms as hockey sticks or both feet as ice skates?"

Quinn closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. He feels like he's back in his childhood, when his brothers Jack and Luke used his room as a common room and he had to lock himself in the toilet to have at least a few minutes to himself. For a moment he actually considers locking himself in there for a while, but his limbs are far too heavy and exhausted, so he immediately discards the idea.

"Ice skates," he finally mumbles, hoping to finally be able to watch the game in peace. He ignores Petey, who is grinning as contentedly as a cat that has just eaten a bird.

"I'd take the hockey stick arms. Wanna know why?"

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It takes almost two more hours before Quinn is finally finished analyzing the game - mainly because of Petey's constant interruptions.

"Who on the team would you date? If you were into men?"

Instead of answering, Quinn opens instagram on his phone and starts scrolling through his feed. Hopefully Petey will finally shut up and go to bed. Quinn really doesn't feel like answering his stupid questions or having any other conversation. All he wants is to escape into thoughtlessness and let himself be bombarded with impressions from the internet.

"It's Millsy, right? U would pick him, eh?"

No answer.

"Hughesy!"

"Huggy bear!"

"Cap!"

"Quinny!"

Elias persists and now calls out all of Quinn's nicknames at regular intervals. The dark-haired defence man stares at his cell phone with a blank expression while trying to block out the other man.

"Haunted hughes!"

Quinn's jaw hardens. He hates this nickname, hates the fact that he can't control his facial expressions on the ice and always looks so stressed and overwhelmed, as if he's about to burst into tears at any moment.

Haunted hughes. Captain Lexapro. These are all nicknames that fans have given him, but now his teammates have also occasionally used them.

Even his grandmother had recently heard about them when Luke had set up a twitter/x account for her. Extremely worried, she had called Quinn in the middle of training to ask him if he was okay and whether he was addicted to medication, she had read something about it on the internet. It took almost half an hour and Silovs' solemn promise to look after Quinn to calm her down.

"Quintin! Are you even listening to me?!" Petey throws a sock at Quinn, who wipes it off his blanket with a disgusted gesture. Petey sinks back onto his bed, humming to himself. "Ur such a goof."

Meanwhile, Quinn clicks through the stories and sees that Trevor Zegras has tagged him in his story for close friends.

It's a photo of Trevor lounging on the couch between Quinn's parents, holding a large cupcake with pink sprinkles.

Below it is Quinn's username and the words "the fav child is back."

Quinn is too exhausted to think of a quick-witted response, so he just sends Trevor a screenshot of today's score with the comment "the favorite child wouldn't lose though, eh?" while skillfully ignoring Petey.

"C'mon, give me an answer! Is it Millsy?"

Quinn stares in his phone. "Oh, wait, you prefer blondes, right? Who would you choose? Boeser or me?" Petey asks.

🌸🌸🌸

The next morning, Quinn wakes up before his alarm. He rubs his eyes and yawns. His headache is finally gone and he doesn't feel as overstimulated as he did the night before.

Quinn looks over at his roommate. Elias is sprawled out on his bed, scrolling through his phone. He has his lower lip stuck out and his eyebrows furrowed.

Quinn sighs softly. "Petey?"

No answer.

"I'm sorry I ignored you yesterday. I was exhausted and didn't feel like talking."

No answer.

"Elias."

Still no answer.

Quinn sits up and looks over at the blonde hockey player. "come on, dude, it's silly to sulk about it."

He sees Petey's eyebrows furrow.

"Håll din jävla skäft!"¹

"Was that an insult?" Quinn sighs. "Yeah, it was one, right? I know that jävla means something offensive."

He rolls out of bed and goes to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face and go to the toilet.

When he comes back, Petey is now standing at the window, staring out.

The dark-haired player can't suppress a twitch in the corners of his mouth at the drama. He steps next to him and looks out the window too. The room faces the backyard.

"We should hurry, we're meeting the rest of the team for breakfast in twenty minutes, Petterson."

No answer.

"You. I would choose you."

Petey turns his head slightly, just enough to give Quinn a sideways glance.

"If I were into men. You'd be my first choice. Even before Boeser and Millsy."

Elias Petterson wrinkles his nose. "Bra försök.² You're lying. You just want me to stop being mad."

"No, buddy, you're my favorite blonde. But yeah, I want you to stop sulking," Quinn admits with a crooked grin. He hates it when his best friend is offended. Petey always reminds him a little of Luke as a child. There was a time in their childhood when Quinn and Jack preferred to play together without Luke, because the youngest was still too small to keep up. Luke expressed his indignation by trying to beat them at their own game and in turn excluding his brothers from his games. Not that it bothered them much not to be allowed to play with Luke's building blocks.

Petey also tries to express his anger by punishing the other person with the same behavior.

"Well, it's not so nice when you're ignored, huh?" There's a hint of self-satisfaction in Petey's voice.

Quinn grunts in agreement, as long as the Swede stops sulking.

Petey turns around. "Okay, then let's get ready so we can finally have breakfast. I have to tell Boeser and Millsy that you think I'm hotter, Cap."

"Hey, I never said that!" Quinn protests, but the corners of his mouth twitch amused. "Besides, I really don't need there to be rumors on social media again just because you and Millsy have to publicly bicker."

¹ Shut up

² Nice try

[tojisun]

you need to be obsessed with me as a little treat 😔

[letsgetrowdy43]

I LITERALLY CANNOT WATXH THIS GAME, ITS PISSING ME OFF

Please enjoy this pic of cole, it lightened my mood

[compo67]

PAVS IS THERE AND WE ARE PLAYING LIKE THIS?!?!?

[withlovealwqys]

melting me softly:

Introduction part1

melting me softly masterlist

taglist open <3

@peachyproductions @lhcread @peachyproductions

[errygarcha]

What if he doesn’t want to marry me?

An indulgent, whimsical Quinn Hughes fanfiction, where a drunk bachelorette wonders if her adoring fiancee doesn’t want to marry her.

Erica knew that Quinn loved her. He told her nearly every morning after all, which one would assume it made it hard to forget. Everyone who knew Erica and Quinn knew about the deep, mutual, exclusive admiration they held each other in. Which made it strange, how Erica was currently on the floor of an Orlando pub bathroom, in tears. After all, what type of bachelorette didn't have a mental breakdown over whether or not her fiancee and significant other of five years loved her in the week prior to her wedding?

“But what if he doesn't love me? What if he regrets proposing to me? What if something happens, what if we have to cancel the wedding?” Erica wailed, while kneeling next to the sink. Beside her were two of her bridesmaids, Anna and Gabby. Gabby, being the only one of the trio to maintain her sobriety throughout the night, acted as the voice of reason. “That man loves you so much. If anything, HE should be the one worried that you will cancel the wedding!” Gabby said, grabbing some napkins from the dispenser by the sink

“FOR REAL” Anna all but shouted. “Actually, we should facetime him, so he can know that you're too hot to marry him and YOu are calling off the wedding before he can!” Anna exclaimed triumphantly, proud of her point. Erica sat there blankly, drunkenly processing Anna’s point. While Erica’s reaction was delayed due to her stupor, Gabby’s certainly was not. “Anna, that is not what Erica was saying” Gabby said with a laugh, finding humor in the antics. However, Gabby was now not by the sink, but in a bathroom stall. Gabby did not see Anna pulling Erica’s phone out of her purse, holding it up to her face to unlock it. Before Gabby had any idea what the girls were up to, Quinn had already picked up the call.

Quinn Hughes was never the type to make comments or try to control his girlfriends actions. Maybe that's why Erica and Quinn worked so well together. They both held each other in such a high regard, placing so much trust in the other, that there never was an inkling of insecurity or doubt. However, Quinn was not going to lie. When Erica had told him of her bachelorette party plans in Orlando, he was worried. Not that he was scared she was going to cheat on him or anything, he knew how serious Erica was in their relationship. But he also knew Erica’s friends, and the predicaments they seemed to find themselves in after they dabbled in a bar or too.

Needless to say, when he answered his phone, he was not surprised to see Anna’s face instead of his dear Erica’s. “Hi Quinnnnn!” Anna slurred. “Hello Anna,” Quinn replied. “How are you?” he asked. “I’M perfectly perfect and fine,” Anna happily shared. “Erica doesn’t want you to break up with her ever, so she is going to break up with you first.” Anna shared, before promptly hanging up the call. 

“Done!” She said, with a self gratified smile. Miss girl had no idea what she did, but she was more than happy to simply be involved. 

The silence of the bathroom was short lived as Gabby’s phone began to ring. Now, she was out of the stall and washing her hands. Taking care of her two drunk friends was much like having toddlers to tend to. After a few seconds, when her hands were washed and dried, Gabby answered the phone, unsurprised to hear Quinnn’s voice on the other end. 

“Hey, Gabby’” Quinn leads “Oh my god, Quinn” Gabby breathes out, the two exchange a relieved, awkward chuckle. “Not meaning to steal bachelorette time, but what are you guys up to?” Quinn felt, for lack of a better term, douchey. After all, what kind of guy calls his fiance's bridesmaids on a bachelorette trip? A douchey, clingy one. “More like what are you guys down too, Erica and Anna are on the floor in this bar’s bathroom.” “Can I talk to her” Quinn asked. Truth be told, he did miss his intended. In a few short weeks, they are meant to walk down the aisle, become one, and all that jazz. It is very natural that he had a few questions about any declaration of these plans being altered. 

“Erica, I have Quinn on the phone, he wants to talk to you” Gabby said, while crouching down next to Erica on the floor. The duo became a trio, and all three women were now on the bathroom floor. “Oh no, what if he doesn’t like me, what if he's calling me to say he doesn’t like me anymore…” Erica slurred together, but she did manage to grab Gabby’s phone from her outstretched arm.n

“Baby, are you there?” Quinn asked gently, his words slightly terse, but his tone full of love. “QUINNIE” Erica yelped, “I’m here” she replied, while closing her eyes and leaning against the cool tiled wall of the bathroom. You’re NOT going to throw up, you’re NOT going to throw up. The mantra echoed against the walls of Erica’s head.

“How are you doing, darling?” Quinn inquired. All he wanted was his fiancee with him, so he could make sure she was safe. And the other girls too, lord knows what Erica and her bridesmaids have gotten up to in Florida. “I am good, my love, what are you?” she naturally replied. Of course, she meant how are you, or maybe ‘what are you up to’. But Quinn was grateful to hear her voice. 

“I’ve been good. So I am going out on a limb here and saying that the wedding is still on?” Comedic lilt gilded his words. Quinn wasn’t sure he’d ever master how to talk to drunk girls on bathroom floors. That craft was better left to the masters, the other drunk girls on bathroom floors. God, where they wonder to behold. 

“Only if you want, like I don’t want you to be unhappappappy” Erica rambled, before coming to a slightly percussive end. “My love, why would I not want to marry you?” Quinn asked. He was curious about her response. Erica usually presented herself as confident, and usually was very self assured. “Well I don’t know, I’m very loud I don’t want you to feel like you’re marrying me out of duty or I don’t know” Erica replied. Well that certainly did not bring Quinn any clarity. 

“Babygirl, I have never been more sure of anything in my entire life. You are the only person in the world who I have shared every part of my physical, mental, and emotional being. You are the most beautiful, intelligent, unique and wonderful woman I have ever known. I would do anything for you, I am prepared to lay down my life for you. Erica Marie Connors, you are my life. I can’t wait for you to be Mrs. Hughes. I would do it right now if I could.”

Wow. Even in her drunken state, Erica was dazed with Quinn's profession. So dazed. So dizzyingly, subliminally, twirling dazed. The next sound Quinn heard was retching, a yelp, and a wail. After a few moments, he heard the third voice of the evening on the other end of the phone. “She’ll see you at the altar, Quinnie baby”

And just like Anna did earlier that night, she hung right up on the hockey player, without a second thought. 

Quinn couldn’t wait to stop wishing for his girlfriend. He wanted his wife.

[bobyram]

leafs twitter is so annoying, someone has a couple of off games and suddenly they’re the worst player ever. like please chill out