#hockey first health second

[sydnikov]

I'm home from college for the weekend, I managed to catch a cold, and I'm still going to the canes game tomorrow 😁

[yundeob]

A NIGHT IN HOLLYWOOD ☆ | ATEEZ SERIES

— featuring ot8!ateez in iconic HOLLYWOOD romance and rom-com movies

— TICKET BOOTH IS CLOSED! 🎟️ : the movies are about to start! all fics will have MATURE CONTENT! MDNI!

sit back, relax, grab your popcorn and tissues, and enjoy the silver screen . . .

THE PARENT TRAP ☆ | KHJ

TROPE: exes to lovers! divorced!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

AS DIVORCED PARENTS to two twin daughters, you and hongjoong have your fair share of work cut out. Driving to piano lessons, cheering at hockey games, drop offs at each other’s houses, it can all be a little much. But could a relaxing summer retreat as a whole family possibly rekindle past emotions you’ve swept under the rug? . . .

— IN THEATRES

DIRTY DANCING ☆ | PSH

TROPE: bad boy!seonghwa, enemies to lovers!au , 60s!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, angst, crack

THAT WAS THE SUMMER before JFK got shot, before the beatles came, and when you were working part time at your aunts summer resort. That was also the summer you met resident heart breaker and cocky entertainment crew member, Park Seonghwa. Remind yourself why you’re suddenly dance partners with him again? . . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

PRETTY WOMAN ☆ | JYH

TROPE: dilf!yunho x formerstripper!reader, strangers to lovers!au, contract lovers!au,

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multimillionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for in the so called ‘Land of Dreams’. So the proposal is simple really… let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

MR AND MRS KANG ☆ | KYS

TROPE: marriage!au, established relationship, spy!au, assasin!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST, crack

WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT picture perfect suburban neighbourhood couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kang would be at each others necks trying to kill each other first. You’ve both come this far in your marriage while hiding your secret identities, but it looks like only one person can remain standing. I guess you both did promise “in sickness and in health”. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMAN HOLIDAY ☆ | CS

TROPE: royalty!au, princess!reader x reporter!san, strangers to lovers!

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

AS CROWN PRINCESS, you’re on a tightly scheduled tour of European capital cities. But after an especially rough day in Rome, you sneak out of the embassy to explore the so called Eternal City, running into no other than celebrity news reporter, Choi San, looking out for his next big royal scandal. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU ☆ | SMG

TROPE: college!au, stoner!mingi, enemies to lovers!au, fakedating(?)au, y2k aesthetic

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

YOUR YOUNGER BROTHER Wooyoung is desperate in getting you, his older sister in college, to date so that he can finally date in highschool. The options for potential candidates are scarce, considering men flock away like birds the second you’re near. Good thing campus stoner and weirdo, Song Mingi is the same as well. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS ☆ | JWY

TROPE: fashioncolumnist!reader x advertiser!wooyoung, y2k aesthetic, fake dating(?)au, enemies to lovers!au, mutual pining

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

LISTEN, IF IT MEANS getting a promotion at your editorial company as a news journalist instead of pop culture and lifestyle columnist, you’d do anything. And that includes pretending to be the most annoying and clingiest girlfriend to some guy for 10 whole days. But just so you know, Wooyoung likes clingy. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMEO & JULIET ☆ | CJH

TROPE: unrequited love, star crossed lovers!au, mutual pining, secret romance (shakespeare be rolling in his grave rn)

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST

FOR CENTURIES, a plague of hatred and hostility has been present in the relations between the House of Choi and your own. You know you can’t be together, but yet why do you keep catching that dark haired boy staring at you so longingly? And why do you want him just as bad?. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

a/n: for updates, follow my blog! this will be a work-in-progress so I ask for your support:(🙏

taglist: @vent-stink @dazzlingstarrs @vcutparis @xpixie @potatos-on-clouds @showingmafandomlove @bibbleypoof @kpop-will-kill-me @avantalem @beabatiny @gabrielle-brugger @nsixns @amaranth1ne @stayminho @myblovedjyh @kkeshia @rebekah-reads @yoonbroom @4kwp @butterflydemons @iwaizumiismybae @soobinsputnik @stayatinykatsy @atitties @justconniez @kitten4sannie @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @cheolsthicthighs @morethingsfandom @geminiml95 @byuntrash101 @quailbagutte @syubseokie @newworldwritings @urmom26john @sleepy-kat-here @pearltinyy @hjshyhyssnmgwyjh @cursedeastern @starryunho @piratekingateez2001 @jiminbility @paumll @drinkingrumandcocacola @roomsofangel @channies-bbg-room @meanaonthemoon @teeztopia @pommelex @kiln9z @sanhwalvr @youresolivlie @edawg77 @a-0206 @summer-gyu @bvidzsoo @yoongzsmile28 @tournesol155

taglist became too long so find the second taglist here💀 no longer taking requests

[intheupside]

Sidney Crosby was his usual humble, appreciative self on Thursday morning after being informed that he was the Penguins' nominee for the Bill Masterton Memorial Trophy, awarded annually to the player who best exemplifies the qualities of perseverance, sportsmanship, and dedication to hockey.

No, he's not overcoming a terrible injury or health issue, and he didn't have to battle adversity off the ice. But with the work he puts into his game, there's nobody else that best exemplifies a dedication to hockey. With his role as a leader on the team, an ambassador to the game and just an overall great human, nobody else best exemplifies sportsmanship. And with him having the season he's having at age 36 -- 39 goals and 45 assists in 76 games, on a mission to drag the Penguins into a postseason spot at any cost, he's a model of perseverance in his own way.

While Crosby may not quite agree with his own nomination -- the second nomination of his career, after he was a finalist in 2013 after his bounce back from concussions -- his teammates sure think he's deserving.

"It's everything he stands for," Rickard Rakell said. "It's about the leadership on and off the ice, the time he puts into getting to the top of his game. It's obviously well-deserved."

"It's the way he carries himself," added Marcus Pettersson. "He represents the game, in a way. He doesn't only represent us, for a long time he's been the face of hockey, too. The passion that he brings, and the love for the game that he brings, he's a very, very well-deserving nominee."

As far as sportsmanship, Crosby is a model of that both on and off the ice. Off the ice, he's an ambassador to the game. He never turns down media, and is almost always available to speak in the locker room after games and practices. He's generous with his time, as exemplified in a story Brian Boyle recently shared of Crosby spending nearly an hour playing bubble hockey with Boyle's young son Declan after a game when Boyle's family was in town during the 2021-22 season, and taking the time to FaceTime with Boyle's kids when they were back home in the Boston area. He's accessible to fans, with Mike Sullivan noting that he's never seen Crosby turn down a kid seeking an autograph or looking to meet him.

"Some of the small gestures for me are the ones that mean most," Sullivan said. "Not everybody gets a chance to see that side of Sid."

Crosby is just a giver too, whether it be for teammates or complete strangers. I've seen him before in front of me on the drive into PPG Paints Arena for game nights, and he's cut across lanes approaching an intersection to get next to the median to give money to a homeless person. One of my favorite stories about Crosby came courtesy of Joseph Blandisi, who recalled what Crosby did for Adam Johnson after Johnson's NHL debut in Nashville in 2019.

"I remember that the day after (Johnson's) first NHL game," Blandisi told me after Johnson's death in October. "Crosby had his tailor in the dressing room and got Johnny a suit from his tailor as a congratulations for his first NHL game. That's a story I always tell when people ask me how it was playing with Sid, I always tell the story that he bought Johnny a suit after his first game. That always stuck with me."

Crosby reflected on Letang's win last season on Thursday, after he succeeded him as the Penguins' nominee.

"Given the fact that he had gone through (the stroke) once before, and then having to go through it again and seeing over the years how hard he's worked and what he's gone through to still be playing to a level that he is, it's really impressive," Crosby said. "It was much more deserving, probably, than my nomination."

sid for masterton 🥹

[thursdaygxrls]

thin ice — three

part one | part two | part three

summary — the lightning bolts have made it to the semi-finals, and parties are the best way to celebrate. they’re also the best place to run into familiar faces.

pairing — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!journalist!reader

disclaimers — sadly, i don’t own peter parker and his yummy face

warnings — this isn’t your first rodeo: this shit is unedited, mentions of drinking/being drunk, possible ooc, reader is referred to as ‘kitty’ (finally gets explained in this part!)

Death was approaching, she could feel it. The sickening, deadly vibrations of the music thundered in her ears like a funeral march. Maybe if she’d grown a spine, she would have avoided this all.

“We’re not even inside yet.”

MJ’s voice broke her from the trance she was stuck in. The Lightning Bolts had made it into the semi-finals, meaning they were one of the last four teams standing. Delta Alpha Kappa, home of half the hockey team, decided to throw their (nearly) weekly rager in honor of that. So, of course, Harry invited MJ, and MJ forced her very unwilling roommate to come.

“Being near the door is scary enough.” Her voice squeaked. 

“I didn’t realize you hated parties this much,” MJ giggled, stuffing her hands into her jacket.

“There’s a difference between parties and frat parties,” she responded with a shudder, “You can probably get thirty-five different diseases from just walking inside.”

“I’ll nurse you back to health.” 

Before a retort could be made, they were already hopping up the steps to the front door. There were some people outside the house, littering the grass and porch. At the door was a guy with a grey snapback. He smiled at them as he opened the door, throwing out a ‘hey, ladies’ as he let them in. He was harmless and hadn’t done anything wrong, but she already felt herself getting faintly annoyed at his grin.

The inside of the house was to be expected. Dull neon lights streaking the walls from the Five Below LED machines, unintelligently music rippling through the air and vibrating the floors, the hazy smell of weed that hung heavier the further you moved into the house. There was an open room people were dancing in on the left, a kitchen on the right, and stairs ahead of them. 

“We don’t have to stay here all night, right?” She pleaded with MJ, her voice somewhat lost in the loud music.

“Of course not,” MJ shook her head, “An hour—two tops.”

“And you’re not leaving me,” she said, punctuating her words by grabbing ahold of MJ’s arm. A chuckle bubbled in the redhead’s throat as she returned the grip, though, with less fervor.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she shook her head.

Apparently, she would dream of it, because within a half an hour, MJ was swept away by Harry. It wasn’t MJ’s intention to leave, nor was it Harry’s to strand Kitty—he’d hoisted her over his shoulder and was gone within seconds. MJ had sent her an apology text minutes later, saying they were playing beer pong out on the patio. Part of her wanted to join them so that she wasn’t so alone in an unfamiliar place, but then a couch had just opened up in a deserted corner of the living room. She replied with ‘all good :).’ Things were very much not all good.

The settings of her phone had become extremely interesting. She’d increased and decreased the size of the text on her screen multiple times. Changed her wallpaper. Played with the magnifier. Ran out of lives on Project Makeover. Changed her wallpaper again. The obnoxious music faded to the background of her mind as she tucked herself away. She should’ve just gone to the patio with MJ. A sigh escaped her as she caved, opening her texts.

“Are you stalking me?”

Her eyes shot up from her phone immediately. Of course he was here. Hazel eyes, choppy brown hair, a nearly healed lip that was rosier than normal. His words echoed her own from the last time they’d spoken. She hadn’t had any need to speak to him, really: they’d given an overzealous freshman a shot at handling the sports section, so she’d been taken off the duty for at least another week. 

“You came up to me,” she replied, “And you could still be stalking me for all I know.” Peter grinned, the same grin he’d given her when they met, and when he was being dragged to the penalty box, and when he’d swiped his card for her at the dining hall.

“Not stalking.” He raised his hands in defense, showing off the red solo cup in his grip. He was still smiling that stupid, toothy smile. 

“Then what are you doing here?” She raised her brow.

“Well, uh,” he chuckled, “Not to sound like a dick, but this party is sort of for me—for the team, really. We made semis.”

Hot embarrassment flooded her at the realization. She knew that already. Would it be worse to say that and admit she had actually been watching the game on her laptop late last week, or just pretend that she was a lot more dense than she already was?

“Oh,” she hummed, not quite doing either, “I see.”

“So, can I ask what you’re doing here?” Peter asked. He moved slightly, like he wanted to take a seat next to her on the couch but decided against it.

“Isn’t it obvious? I live here,” she replied, the sarcasm thick on her tongue. He seemed to like it because he let out another one of those throaty chuckles.

“Ah, yeah, should’ve figured,” he nodded. With his free hand, he scratched the scruff of hair above his left ear. Then, he spoke up again, “Mind if I sit?”

“A little,” she cringed internally at her own words. Though contradictory, she scooched a bit, asserting that maybe it would be okay if he sat. He took the invitation.

“Where’s MJ?” He cocked his head.

“Kidnapped by your lovely teammate.” “She just left you alone?”

“It’s not her fault—she apologized and told me where he was holding her captive, but…well, the couch opened up,” she shrugged. Another deep laugh.

“That’s pretty sound logic,” he nodded. The last time they’d been this close, she was interviewing him. Well, she was trying to interview him while he flirted incessantly. Peter held his cup between his knees, taking slow sips every once and a while. 

“Do you live here?” She turned to fully face him, “Are you one of those frat guys?”

“I thought about it, but I just didn’t have enough time,” he shook his head, “I’m actually in an on-campus apartment. I have my own bathroom, so, hey, I’m winning, I guess.” For perhaps the first time, a light laugh was drawn from her lips. It wasn’t necessarily real, more like a confirmation that she heard him, but it was enough to make Peter’s lips twitch into another grin.

“What about you, Kitty?”

And there it was. He had to ruin it. 

“What’s your obsession with trying to call me that?” She grumbled.

“You said your friends call you that,” he replied, acting so nonchalant that it took all her strength not to roll her eyes.

“We’re not friends,” she corrected him quickly. His face fell for only a minute before he was already picking his lips up into another grin.

“Can’t we be?” He asked. His words were so sincere, like he was actually searching for friendship behind her eyes. Maybe he was being sincere. She shifted in her spot.

“I don’t know. I mean, I know I probably came off sort of strong before, inviting you to the game and everything, but you came, so I sort of thought…” he shrugged again, “We’re…friends? Of some sort?”

Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong. She’d shown up. But it was because of MJ, because MJ wanted to go. Yeah, that was why.

“MJ wanted to see Harry,” she disputed.

“But you still came,” he pressed. She still came. A sigh left her.

“Okay, we’re, like, sort of friends,” she finally admitted, “But that doesn’t mean you just get to call me that name.”

“Well then what am I supposed to call you?” He questioned, and her eyebrows furrowed in response. A smile split on his lips, “You never actually introduced yourself to me, y’know.”

Another burst of molten embarrassment. She searched her mind, trying to remember if she’d ever told him her name, but she was drawing blanks. She’d been so pissed off during the interview that she never introduced herself. Her scalp burned.

“Y/n,” she swallowed her pride for a moment, “That’s what you can call me.”

“I sort of like Kitty better.” Now he was just pushing the limits.

“Well, it’s not for you to use,” her voice was sharp.

“Harry uses it.” “Harry is a dick that doesn’t listen to me when I tell him to stop calling me it.”

“MJ uses—”

“MJ uses it because she’s allowed to use it,” she interrupted, “Hearing other people use it is like hearing a stranger refer to you by your family nickname. It’s freaky.”

“Is there a reason for it? The nickname, I mean?” Peter, for as genuine as he was trying to be, couldn’t hide his grin. 

“A stupid one.” Why would she admit that?

“Can I hear it?” He pressed.

“You are just full of questions,” she huffed. Silence settled between them. Beats of unspoken words fell like snowflakes as the dull thump of the party shifted to the forefront. 

“It’s a stupid reason,” she repeated, breaking the seal. Peter looked at her again.

“Is it?” His voice was a little softer than before. 

“Yeah,” she sighed. Why was she giving in so easily?

“It’s because I always land on my feet somehow,” she began to explain, “Not literally. Like, back in high school, I’d have a test I forgot to study for, and I’d ace it somehow. Or when I used to do the professor spotlight for the paper, I would put it off until the last minute and bullshit a whole piece just to be told it’s one of the best things I’ve done. Stuff like that. MJ said I’m like a cat, but cuter, so she started calling me that freshman year.”

Like clockwork, Peter let out a huff of laughter. He looked at her, eyes sparkling with the new information and he curled his lips. She must’ve been getting some second-hand smoke, because her head seemed a little fuzzier than before.

“I thought it was going to be something traumatic,” he chuckled, “Like, you got stuck in a tree or something.”

“It’s just personal,” she rolled her eyes.

“So,” his laughter subsided, “I don’t have Kitty privileges?” “No,” she shook her head.

“Do you mean ‘no’ or ‘not yet’?” His smile was unbearable.

“I mean ‘no’.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Are you sure sure?” 

She was going to have to physically restrain herself. Instead of arguing, she shuffled in her seat, “I think I’m gonna go see if MJ is still—”

“Hey,” he said softly. His hand landed on her arm in a featherlight touch that had her nerve ending lighting up. Her eyes met his. The softness that consumed the hazel caused her to still. 

“Before you go,” his tone was more subdued now, “Can I possibly have your number?”

The question caught her off guard. If she hadn’t already stopped moving, she would’ve come to a screeching halt. Perhaps what confused her the most was that her instinctual response was to say yes, to reach for her phone and let him make a new contact. 

“I promise I won’t set your name as ‘Kitty’,” he added, “Scout’s honor.” “Were you a boy scout?” She cocked her head.

“Nope,” he replied with that same giddy grin that melted her resolve. Another sigh escaped her as she grabbed her phone. He waited patiently as she created a new contact and handed over the phone. His fingers darted across the screen before taking a picture of himself. Well, more like a picture of his eyes and nose way too close to the camera. He gave the phone back, seemingly proud of himself. The picture was set, and the name he’d chosen for himself was ‘peter :)’. He also sent himself a text so he would have her number.

“I’ll let you go now,” he grinned, “Have fun watching drunks play pong.” She nodded and nearly stood, but was planted back to her seat in a moment.

“How did you know where I was going?” Her eyebrows creased. Peter’s smile fell slightly as his eyes widened.

“Oh,” he coughed, “Well, I bumped into MJ earlier, so, y’know.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, “And I bet you didn’t ask her where I was, either.” He chuckled nervously and scratched the spot above his ear again.

“Nope,” he lied. She shook her head at his tone.

“Right,” she stood, “See you around, stalker.”

“Bye, Ki—Y/n,” he cut himself off, grinning proudly when he noticed his mistake. His smile had to be contagious, infectious, because her own lips began to curl in response.

It was surprisingly easy to find MJ. She didn’t know where the patio was, but luck was on her side tonight: after shoving through a dozen drunks, she found sliding glass doors. The fresh air felt like a cold shower as she stepped out. It was much less loud out here. Only the filtered thump of the music and the buzz of voices could be heard. That was until a light splash and a cacophony of deep yells filled her ears. When she cautiously approached the hoard of people surrounding the beer pong table, a pair of hands wrapped around her in death grip.

“I am so, so sorry!” MJ’s voice eased her nerves immediately, “I’m horrible! I’m the worst! I promised to stick by you, and I bailed! I—”

“Honey, it’s okay,” she let out a small laugh at her behavior. She should be angrier than she was, but she just couldn’t pull herself to get mad.

“I promise I will never ever force you to a party again, and I’ll never leave you,” MJ continued, “I’ll wait outside the shower for you!”

“That’s tempting, but you don’t have to.” Her voice seemed to somewhat quell MJ’s nerves, though the redhead was still on high alert. 

“Are you just acting okay but really you’re harboring a deep resentment for me that will slowly boil into hatred?” MJ scrunched her nose. She was definitely a few drinks in.

“I promise,” she said, and she actually meant it, “I do not hate you.” MJ sighed in relief as she finally let go of the girl in front of her. True to her word, she stuck by her the rest of the night. When they finally made their way back to the dorm—both tipsy—she finally checked her phone. There was a message from Peter; a screenshot of her contact info with the name set as ‘y/n :)’ and a text:

‘scout’s honor’

a/n — OKAY OKAY i know nothing humongous happened in this chap, but we’re getting there 🤭 you guys just wait until peter *redacted* and *redacted* so reader has to *redacted.* also, at the time of posting this, i hit 400!! love you guys so much, you're all my sweet little baby muffins

taglist

@reidslovely @iamliterallyspidergwen @tarzinnia (tarzinnia, hon, i cannot for the life of me remember if you asked to be on the taglist so i added you just in case—let me know if you want off!)

[huggybearhughes43]

omg can you write like a jeremy swayman smut pls there isn’t enough for this fine ass man 😞

You asked him?!

Jeremy Swayman x Fem! Reader

Warnings- enemies to lovers (ur not human if you hate this man idc), smut smut smut smut, PnV, anal penetration🤫, love bites, cursing, creampie, lmk if there’s anything else

Summary- Since the day you started working as the bruins management the goalie had it out for you. Nothing in particular set him off but now you two couldn’t go a day without arguing. Your best friend told you to forget your resent argument but you couldn’t. So you showed up to his apartment to ask what he meant by what he said.

Word count- 1.7k

Ever since the very first day of working for the Bruins, Jeremy and I had it out for each other. Nothing happened, but the second our eyes met we hated each other. Every bitchy remark or roll of the eyes had me closer and closer to slapping him everyday.

Soft chatter filled the air of the hallway to the locker room. The boys had just finished with their game and were on their way home. After every practice, it’s my job to close up the rink, which includes making everyone is out. I sigh as the last of the group walks out, or what I thought was the last.

I rub my eyes and make my way into the humid (probably from the showers) locker room. It was mere silent as I walked in. Looking down at my phone I run face first into a firm chest. I look up, so ready to apologize. My worried expression faded to an annoyed one when my eyes meet Jeremy’s.

“Could you take any longer? I have a job to do and an apartment to get back to.” I huff and put my phone in my pocket before crossing my arms.

He rolls his eyes and steps out of the way for me to enter. His hair was dripping wet with sweat and his eyes droopy, sad even. The team had just lost against the kraken. I rub my neck as I walk in, guilt hanging in the air.

“Look- I’m sorry, I-“ I begin but he cuts me off.

“I don’t need pity from some girl who knows nothing about hockey.” He chucks his bag over his shoulder.

I scoff, my arms never leaving the crossed position on my chest. “I was literally trying to be nice!”

“Shocker.” I bite my lip, trying to hold back a bitchy remark that was so close to slipping out.

“Fuck you.” I say, trying my best to not say something that I’d ultimately feel bad about later that night.

He smirks and rubs his eyes. “Word is you want to.” He shrugs and walks out of the locker room, leaving me stunned.

I do my job quickly and get out of the arena. Stepping into the apartment I’m met with the stare of my roommate, also my best friend. I’m slightly taken aback, “what?”

She breaks the stare with a blink. “Nothing, you just look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “Oh,” I tsk and set my purse and keys down on the coffee table before sitting on the love seat we had in our living room. “Jeremy.” I shrug.

Lana, my best friend, groans and spins dramatically before looking back at me. “Just slap him already, please, for the sake of your mental health, I’m begging you”

I smile lightly and look at her. “I wish” I start, “he said ‘the word’ was I wanted to fuck him.” Lana huffs “he wishes” “I just wanna know who told him that. Because let me tell you, that’s the furthest thing from the truth.” I pause, “you know what, I’m gonna ask him.”

Lana furrows her brows. “Like… now?” “He lives a few roads down,I won’t be able to sleep until I know.” I grab my keys again and leave Lana in the dust as I storm outside and back into my car. It’s five minutes in the car before I’m parked in his driveway. I contemplate for a moment then get out of my car.

I knock hastily on his door, not stopping until he answered. The bright sun setting casting a purple-pink haze on the sky. He opened the door with his brows furrowed, his eyes drop down to mine before his expression softens but only an amount I would notice.

“What the hell are you doing?” His hair was dripping wet with water this time, his chest shirtless, he was only wearing a grey pair of sweatpants.

“I wanna know what you meant, when you said ‘the word is you want to’” I cross my arms bitterly and a smile cracks on his face.

He steps to the side to let me in. I gladly take the offer, not wanting to stand in the cold Boston air anymore. He closes the door as I turn around, our eyes meeting again.

“You’re telling me you came all this way to my house because you wanted to know why I said you wanted to fuck me?” He crosses his arms, his muscles flexing. I curse myself under my breath for staring. “Is that not supposed to confirm my suspicions?”

My jaw drops with a gasp. “What?! No! I don’t wanna fuck you!”. Jeremy tilts his head with a cheeky smirk, “yeah?” He takes steps closer until he was so close I could feel his breath fanning across my face. “Y-yeah.” I clear my throat. “Then tell me to stop” “wha-“ my words are cut off by his lips attaching to my neck. Soft nips every now and then between the kisses made my breath hitch and involuntary moans leave my throat.

“Jeremy- this isn’t a good idea…” his teeth pull at my skin as he moves his head to be level with mine, a smirk playing on his now plump lips. “Why? You don’t like the idea of actually liking me?” The sun was now fully gone, the only light illuminating the room was the light coming from the lamp in the corner of his entryway.

I contemplate for a moment, liking him for a change does sound nice. I sigh and move up a millimeter, connecting our lips in a harsh, hungry kiss. I felt his shit eating grin against my lips, not caring anymore I force my tongue into his mouth.

“If you think you’re in control here, you’re crazy.” He loops his hands around me onto my ass. “Jump” he whispers breathlessly. I do as he says, my legs wrapping around his waist as he hoists me up. He smirks, “good girl.” He kisses me again as he walks us to his bedroom.

He lays me on his bed softly before crawling on top of me, our lips connecting again. I moan softly into the kiss, my fingers fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants. He tsks “I wanna see you first.” He pulls away and lifts my sweater over my head, my black Lacey bra on full display for him. He mumbles a low ‘fuck’ and places a kiss on both of my breasts before looping his fingers around the waistband of my jeans, pulling them down. I was now only left in my matching Lacey set.

His obvious bulge shown through his sweatpants. He looks up at me as he presses a kiss to my stomach before coming back up, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “And you said you didn’t wanna get fucked, huh?” My face flushes with a pink hue “it’s comfortable-“ “mhm” he kneels between my legs, kissing soft kisses before kissing my cunt through my panties. My breath hitches again as I squirm from the sensation.

He smirks and connects our eyes as he softly bites my panties before pulling them down with his teeth. “Jere- fuck” I moan as the cool air hits my wet pussy. He hooks his arms around me and undoes my bra, pulling it off. I was now left completely naked, squirming on his bed. “Jeremy” I whine as I tug on his waistband again. “Dirty girl” he whispers then pulls off the sweatpants that I had grown to hate.

My eyes slightly widen as my eyes drift down to his enlarged hard cock. “Flip over for me, yeah?” I nod and flip over for him, pushing my ass in the air for him. “Good girl” he runs a finger through my already wet cunt, forcing a moan from me. “Already so wet? Don’t even think I need to get you ready.” He squeezes my ass then I feel him press his dick against my entrance.

“Please~ I need you- I-“ my words are cut off by him easing into me. I gasp and moan out as I feel the sting of the stretch. He lets out a throaty groan as I squeeze around him. He bottoms out and the sting soon fades to pleasure. “Please move, Jere” he smirks at the nickname and retracts before slamming into me. I moan out loudly as I arch my back, my ass pressing into his pelvis.

Jeremy lolls his head back in pleasure, pinching his eyes shut as he pounds into me. I could think of anything but him and his cock as he fucked me dumb. I press my face into the pillows on his bed, muffling the moans. My head turns to the side, I gasp out quiet sobs of pleasure, feeling a calloused thumb prod at my tight asshole.

“Jeremy m’gonna cum” I manage to gasp out, my cunt clenching around his thick shaft. “Cum for me, pretty girl.” I cry out as I cum around his cock, breathing hard to catch my breath. He leans down to kiss my shoulder softly. “Where do you want it?” “In me Jere, I’m on the pill” I hear his light chuckle turned in a groan as he fills me up with his warm ropes. He pulls out slowly before collapsing beside me.

“We should’ve done that way sooner, baby.” He moves a hair out of my face. Still on my stomach, I smile softly. “I don’t think I can ever hate you again.” We share a laugh as he gets up. “Be right back.” Moments later he comes back with a warm cloth and a glass of water. He sits the water down on the side table as he moves to hover me again, pressing a kiss to my lips before cleaning me up with the cloth.

He lays next to me once again, pulling the covers over both of us. I nestle into him in a cuddle and drift to sleep.

After soft morning kisses and protests I insisted that I needed to get home to get ready for work. Jeremy pouting when I remind him I’d see him in a hour at work.

I was met with a judgmental stare from Lana as I walked through my front door. “You asked him?! And what did that get you?” I smile sheepishly.

“The best fuck of my life?”

~~~

Me when I got this request:

If Jeremy Swayman has no fans I’m DEAD

[brandileigh2003]

Wolfstar fic recs featuring disability, chronic illness, chronic pain, or characters who are deaf or blind

**please feel free to drop your own fic or recs in comments and I'll add.

----orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) by raggedypond divorced wolfstar get back together, flashbacks to remus getting diagnosis, breakup, and Sirius dealing with alcoholism. Raising teddy. Hea.

--love finds a way by littleoldrachel: Jurassic Park exes to lovers

-the sea is a good place to think of the future by peachyybabe: @lavenderhaze get back together, raising teddy, the second has mcd but if you just read first you can pretend he's ok? (I know I have friends who don't touch mcd with 10ft pole)

-(really you can't go wrong with any of peachyybabe, disability, chronic illness and/or mental health/illness in all.

-Forget the World by @amberlink mcd. Sirius is a surgeon, saves remus' life and they marry for insurance. But ofc fall in love along the way as Remus' heart gets worse. this was so good and explored brief as well

-my jokes are my armour, my kindness is my sword by @littleoldrachel remus owns flower shop and meets the gang (seizures and chronic pain

-Like Real People Do by third_crow coffee shop au, also sirius raising harry. So good.

-Tender is the touch (of someone that you love too much) by @purplefiction-ao3 remus has heart condition, written by person with chronic illness themselves

-Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations by TheQueerTailor Sixth year has just started and Remus is barely keeping up. He's just sixteen but it feels like his body is falling apart.

-heat and balance by @eyra also interesting look into Sirius dual role of partner and caregiver

-We’ll Make It Out Alive by wolfstar_addict417 texting fic, raising teddy

-the mayors of simpleton by fruity_individual get back together, remus is blind, raising teddy

-Found Heaven by fierrochase fluffy text fic, so cute together

-Black's Anatomy by @grasslesss greys anatomy fic, remus has lupus

-The Sickness Unto Death by oliverdalstonbrowning university au, remus has cystic fibrosis

-Of Bookshelves and Baby Carriers by @poppunkpadfoot bookshop au, sirius raising harry

-My Only Sunshine by Loua29xx: remus had cancer. Mcd

- Young Blood by viwrites @just--vi road trip au, jegulus main, remus has heart condition (I've been told the 2nd focus more on wolfstar, haven't gotten there yet)

-I Don't Care if My Heart Breaks by orphan_account: bookshop au, remus has cerebral palsy

-Be silent like deep water by @her-smile-forges-galaxies remus is deaf

-Give Me A Sign by@theresthesnitch soulmate fic, remus is deaf. Wip

-Kill Your Darlings by MesserMoon: @sophsicle jegulus main but remus is deaf. Hockey and University au

-Signs of Affection by KittyCargo: remus is deaf, teacher asl

-For the Love of Ducks by viwrites Remus has heart condition

-a lot of Lucigoo89 feature in some way. @lucigoo

-Sweets and Books by Writer_INFJ_2w1: bookshop au, chronic pain

- feel what its like to be new by peachyybabe: boarding school au, sirius is blind

-Rarer Than One in a Million by Sp00nhater wolfstar is so soft and sweet, meet in hospital

-one shot: Another New Potion? by depressed_and_nauseous

-wip: bite the hand by raggedypond: zombie apocalypse

-The Language of Flowers by B1ackCatChatsBack Remus has ra, flower shop

-Good Old Fashioned Lover Boys by Hell_Again: bakery au

-Casimir Pulaski Day by breadpoetssociety: cancer, mcd

-Forever Is a State of Mind by orphan_account (deaf remus)

-Living Like We're Renegades by orphan_account (hoh remus, university)

-Mile High by quidditery chronic pain

-this is not a temporary love (now my heart is in your hands) by littleoldrachel (pining, abandoned as far as I know, but worth it!!!)

-I Didn't Come Here to Party, I Only Came for the Cake by attheendoftheday gbbo Remus with fibromyalgia

-Six Feet Apart by Belle_Lestrange101 pandemic fic, Remus has hiv

-Beyond the Heartbeat by bizarrestars: ultimately a story about grief of regulus, with the middle soft wolfstar falling in love. Remus and illness is featured.

-Small Bones of Courage by Anonymous mcd, please read tags, sensitive topics. Later in life lycanthropy is terminal for remus.

-Fractured Skies by orphan_account coffee shop fic, Sirius is deaf, Remus has epilepsy

-as it was by peachyybabe A story about falling in love with a stranger in a bookstore and learning how to live again.

-An Infinte Ocean orphan_account: teddy has cf, Sirius is amputer

-Blind Werewolf McWolf by orphan_account Remus is blind

-Message from Seat 25A by PleaseDonateBlood 1 shot lupus

-if you were a waiting room. by beaniesandblackcoffee

-Time May Change Me by Kaymardsa lupus

-Underneath It All by Kaymardsa: seizures, texting fic

-i don't want to be your muse by yellowmarshmallow muggle asexual remus with chronic fatigue syndrome

-waiting room by haey1

-Remus lupins guide on how to (not) become a quidditch seeker by Girl_rotting

-**all of my fics have disability or chronic illness rep two of my faves: silence between us (deaf remus + disability) and inevitable (cancer, mcd)**

These are prb widely known but...

-Highland Fling [+podfic] by @picascribitremus has lupus. They meet when Sirius is backpacking

-Text Talk by merlywhirls: Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number.

-Blends by rvltn909 coffee shop (sequel names goes into it a lot more)

-A Cup of Sugar by MsAlexWP: both harry and remus disabled

-Discards by picascribit read tags , sensitive subjects: remus has hiv

-A Wolf's Heart by mizdiz : meet in bookshop, remus has heart problems, mcd

-Problems with Narrative Structure and the Rules of Manly Engagement by @xinasvoice : get together fic, remus is an author has fibromyalgia

@just--vi did a tiktok video with these mentioned too that I forgot (give her some love)

-A Wolf, A Bear, A Dungeon Master, and Boy Wonder by ratmom819

-Forever is Definitely Punk Rock by orphan_account (lupus)

-Put Your Head on My Shoulder by jennandblit

-Sunshine on Leith by eyra

Spoons and Stars by Chlobliviate (Rec from glittery-grandma) chronic fatigue and pain, wolfstar in uni

Others who sent me recs:

With different eyes by Shadowmun: blind Sirius is a seer. (haven't read this but def it's on my list) Also check out ao3 or tumblr there are some others that aren't wolfstar @mundrakan

---feel free to check it my main rec list

I shall also direct you to some lists by the @wolfstarlibrarian I'm sure there is some in common but they also have more one shots that I unfortunately usually don't track for the most part (this is amazing account, and not mine, but give them lots of love)

Wolfstar + Chronic Pain, Wolfstar w/Disabilities, Deafness, & Blindness, Wolfstar Hospital AUs, Sick Fic Oneshots, Terminally/Chronically Ill Remus Fics

[librarycards]

If one subscribes to an ideology that views people with cognitive, psychiatric, and other diagnoses as mostly incompetent, ‘child-like’ and unable to care for themselves or make meaningful decisions about their lives, then an idea such as independent living or living in a non-institutional setting is quite radical, which is why it was, and still is, so ferociously resisted. It may be useful to understand what one means by a ‘dependent population’ that cannot live 'independently,’ which is what many proponents of institutional and group home living say of people with significant disabilities. Two dimensions could be affiliated with the term dependency: first, dependency on the state for financial support, health care, and other provisions; second, perceived inability of people to engage in their own self care without assistance of others (Oliver 1990). Some disabled people seem to fit both definitions.

In everyday usage, dependence implies an inability to care for oneself and thus having to rely on other people’s assistance. Conversely, independence implies not relying on anybody and requiring no assistance, a concept tied to an individualistic ethos (Oliver 1990). Disabled people often embody a different definition of independence, as exemplified in the principles of the Independent Living Movement. Under this framework, independence is perceived as the ability to control one’s life, such as hiring one’s own aides, and deciding on daily routines. It is not understood to mean doing things without any help from others. When analyzing daily living in modern societies, it is hard to find situations in which any people are independent from one another. Thus, projecting dependence as a characteristic only of 'fragile’ members of our societies (i.e., elderly, disabled, and children) may seem natural, but it relies on a specific North American framework of rugged individualism (Ben-Moshe, Nocella, and Withers 2013).

If anything, in many cases it is societal attitudes that create dependence amongst elderly and disabled people. Inaccessibility of the built environment, patronizing attitudes, historical exclusion from schooling and the increasingly fast pace of life in modern societies are all contributing factors to the social construction of disability (Wendell 1996) and dependence (Oliver 1990). Dependence is not inevitable or inherent within these populations. Dependence was prescribed to people with disabilities, and the elderly, so it seems detached from 'normal people’s’ existence (Finkelstein 1993). An additional problem of the creation of forced dependence and infantilization is that it is often 'masked by loving care’ (Hockey and James 1993) of family members or professionals.

Liat Ben-Moshe, “Alternatives to (Disability) Incarceration”, Disability Incarcerated: Imprisonment and Disability in the United States and Canada.

[kis3memore]

Wicked Games

introduction, chapter 1

Summary: Chris is suffering from a nasty addiction and is desperate to find the right person to help him get out of it.

Warnings: slight smut, male receiving, cursing, drug use, alcohol use

WELCOME!! I was scared to post this, but then I was like, you know what? fuck it let’s do it. Anyway, this is my first EVER series on here I’m excited and nervous at the same time!

I hope you all enjoy this introduction!.. ig I’ll call it that.

...

"Watch your teeth," Chris tells the girl who is currently on her knees in front of him, she looks up at him as he grabs a fist full of her hair guiding her head up and down. He throws his head back, "Fuck, there we go, much better,"

He looked back down at the girl as she swirled her tongue around the tip of his penis, making him groan. "Come on, don't tease me," He huffed, turning his head towards the door as he heard shuffling and laughter. He looked back at the girl who was still going to town on him and let his eyes roll to the back of his head, leaning his head back and looked up at the ceiling, feeling dizzy as his vision started to spin and all the laughter from the other side of the door seem far away.

Of course, it was edibles, a joint, and only who knows how many shots he was gone. But to him, he felt amazing, like nothing would feel better than how he felt right now. He loved every minute of his high and wished it would never go away, but it did, and that's when he turned miserable again.

He does take knowledge of his bad addiction, every time he thinks about it he feels about cleaning up and staying sober, but he always ends up not taking his own advice. What's terrible is that he blames people for his addiction, "nobody cares to even help me sober up or even care to encourage me to stop," He felt alone in this world and is in desperate need of someone to save him, he doesn't care who he just wants that somebody to care about him.

His high was ruined when the girl on her knees in front of him decided to scrape her teeth on him once again, he winced looking down at her, "Yeah, you're done here," He pushed her off of him earning a confused look from her. He picked up his pants, buttoning them back up, "Go bite someone else's dick," He hated when his high was ruined, it put him in a bad mood, but that didn't stop him from getting high again.

He walked out of the room, leaving the girl shocked, probably still on her knees. He didn't care.

"Smoke some, drink some pop one"

The song blasts through the house, which holds a party every year school starts. The house belongs to one of the popular hockey players, who invites Chris to every party he hosts. This is the time and place where Chris can easily let loose. He makes his way back to the corner where he always goes with his best buddy, Nate.

"Oh wow, that was quick," Chris laughed, eyeing the joint that was held in between Nate's fingers, "Give me that," He pointed to it. Nate shook his head, moving it away from him, "Nah, you stole my first one. You ain't taking this one," Chris's face dropped, "I almost got my dick eaten off, and you're seriously doing this to me?" Nate's eyes widened as he heard what Chris told him, but then he laughed, shaking his head.

"This is legit the second time you almost went dickless," Nate said to him. Chris looked away from him, watching people walk in and out of the house, "Just give me that damn blunt," He heard Nate scoff, taking another hit before passing it to Chris, who gladly took it from his hand, "Thats what I thought," Taking a hit immediately, Nate shakes his head eyeing him as he does so. The look he gives Chris is mixed with concern and disgust, He's worried about his best friend's health and his addiction, but also disgusted with himself, the guilt he feels washes through him constantly as he is always the one to supply him with stuff and never has the guts to say no.

Chris looked back at the crowd behind him, his eyes landed on someone he couldn't stand, and his face turned sour from even looking at him. Taking one last hit, he passed the blunt back to Nate.

"Life of the party arrived," Chris said, turning his head again towards where "the life of the party" was. Mateo Hansley, on the football team, everyone knows him, but Chris despises him ever since he found out his ex was cheating on him with him. To this day, his ex still tries her all to get him back, and he sometimes finds himself considering it, but Nate pushes him back from it, telling him it's not a good idea, "Oh how cute, I'm surprised his stuck up girlfriend is not with him," Chris looked back at Nate, "Who's that?" He asked him.

"You don't know? Y/n Laurier, snobby little bitch, cheer team," He still didn't have a clue, squinting at Nate, who sighed, looking over at Mateo, "Best friends with the girl you took to the room over there," Chris now had his eyebrows raised, "Damn well, I hope she knows her bestie loves to bite off dicks," Nate laughs at him shaking his head, finishing off the blunt before he gets up from his seat, patting Chris's shoulder, "Lucky you still have yours,"

"Come on mister I'm always feining, I think we need some air and maybe touch some grass while we're at it," Nate said to him as he began to walk through the crowd and towards the door that led to the back yard, Chris rolled his eyes. "I think I'm okay," He muttered, taking the seat where Nate was sitting before he got up. He observed the crowd in front of him, looking at the people dancing, taking shots, smoking, and seeing people making out with one another.

"You look lonely," He sat up straight and looked around, trying to figure out if he actually heard that or if it was just his high messing with him, but no, he found someone actually sitting next to him, A girl he had never seen before, she looked at him with raised eyebrows, he looked back at her with the same expression, he opens his mouth to say something back but she beats him to it, "I'm real, and I'm really sitting next to you" She laughs at him, he does the same rubbing his forehead while shaking his head.

"Um, are you okay?" He snaps back to reality for a bit, looking behind her at the group of girls taking shots together, the girl next to him stays staring at him, waiting for him to speak, Wow this guy is high in the clouds, her mind said. "Oh yeah, I'm perfect! Also, I’m not alone I'm with my friend," He smiled at her answering her question, watching her nod awkwardly, You can just get up and walk away you know.

He wondered why she was still sitting here, getting annoyed a bit. "So, like, the real question is, what are you doing here alone?" he asked her this time. Her eyes traveled all the way down to his shoes, examining him like he were some object. He looked away from her quickly, biting his lip so that he wouldn't curse her out.

"I'm not alone I'm actually with my boyfriend, but who knows where he is right now," She shrugged letting out a breath, he looked at her suspiciously now, "And who's that?" The question came out of his mouth slowly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Mateo Hansley," She answered, and he widened his eyes. Speak of the devil, holy shit.

"I need to touch some grass," he mutters before getting up quickly and walking away. She sits there confused, watching him walk out the door leading to the backyard. "Stoner," she shook her head but then shrugged. Standing on her feet now, she continues to search for her boyfriend.

…

oh wow, yall read the whole thing???? was it good at least???

thank you so much for reading the introduction to my first series!! it’s short i know, but the chapters will be long, let me know what you guys think of it so far!

[linskywords]

Not to poke about any fics you may or may not be writing as I know you are currently focusing elsewhere (and I hope progress is going well!) But I just scrolled past your ask about adding tknp to the WYLverse and the wolfverse, and how they'd probably be much more of a downer than the other stories. I do know it's still in the far off future, but do you have any info on that right now that you would be willing to share?

Oh hi! No worries, happy to get this question! The novel and I are actually in a fight right now, so I'm working on the Hughes brothers' wolfverse installments. As for tk/np, I can't remember if I had specific thoughts on their WYL story, but I've given a lot of thought to how their wolfverse story would go. I feel like two things are true:

I don't want to erase what happened to Nolan and pretend he's just happily playing in the NHL to this day

I don't want to write a story that's a total downer.

I'm not sure if I could walk that line in a non-AU story, but in the wolfverse, I'm planning to tweak Nolan's backstory so that hockey plays a different role in his life. The main idea is that he's from a really intense pack of wolves up in Winnipeg, and the expectation is that you basically be totally devoted to the pack and don't have any sort of life outside of that. Unless you have some kind of special reason to leave, that is, like being good enough to be drafted second overall to the NHL. So hockey is mostly an escape for Nolan. He likes it, wouldn't be able to be this good if he didn't, but his main reason for pursuing it is because he wants a life outside of the claustrophobic everyone-up-in-your-business confines of his pack.

But when he gets to the NHL, it ends up being harder than he thought. His psychic senses are more sensitive than most wolves', and the aggression that he feels anytime they play another team is A Lot. Even when there isn't another wolf on the other side of it--and it's way worse when there is. Every time he goes out on the ice he feels like he's fighting in a battle. It starts to take a toll on his mental and physical health; he starts getting horrific migraines, and it's hard for him to even leave the house. But he can't just quit. This is his escape route, his way out. If he quits, he's going to have to go home.

Except then he gets together with TK. And suddenly there's a different reason for him to live outside of Winnipeg. Normally if he were to bond to a human -- frowned upon but grudgingly allowed -- he'd be expected to bring them home to join the pack. But TK is an NHL player, too. That's more than enough reason to keep them living in Philly for most of the year. Maybe, now that they're together, Nolan doesn't need to keep torturing himself with playing a game that's increasingly bad for his health. Maybe he can step back, and take a breath, and explore the other things the wider world has to offer, the ones he left Winnipeg for in the first place.

[alchemistc]

goon | bucktommy | chapter six

check out the hockey glossary here (updated through chapter six)

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

read Chapter Six on ao3

Tommy nearly hadn’t made it here.

Not in terms of mortality — four years ago, he’d blocked a shot with his skate, and felt the twinge of it for the rest of the game, but it wasn’t until he’d taken his skate off and seen his foot swell to three times it’s normal size that the adrenaline had worn off.

The force of the puck had broken his foot in three places.

He’d spent almost a year rehabbing that injury, and there’d been a month or so there when the numbness of the pain meds they’d prescribed him had been preferable to thinking about the trajectory of his career — getting into junior leagues far too old to really make waves, paying for travel teams off the pity of his aunt; the scholarship that had barely covered his tuition as he worked his way through a degree, sleeping three hours a night and housing enough coffee to keep a South American country’s economy alive, mornings and evenings devoted to a hockey team that hadn’t made a D1 playoff appearance in years and days spent reading and rereading his lecture notes like if he somehow stayed a good student, the scholarship might cover his meals by the time he was a senior; drafted by Toronto in the fifth round sort of as a throwaway, and spending the next two years bouncing from AHL to ECHL teams without even a glimpse of a shot at the show; a trade to an on-the-rise Pittsburg and an injured Penguin who no one else on the farm team had enough knowledge of both defensive and forward positions to fill his spot; a year and a half riding the bench with the brightest fucking star this league had seen since Gretzky, and realizing that for all that he and Sidney Crosby had had incredibly different life experiences, at the end of the day they were cut from the same cloth; ten more years of bouncing from team to team, mentoring every mentally ill first round draft pick that latched on to him day one, learning half the leagues dirty laundry without ever once airing his own.

The day he’d rolled out of bed and popped three oxy before he’d been awake enough to assess his pain levels, he’d spent six hours researching therapists and flushed the rest of the pills down the drain.

Therapy had taught him plenty. About himself, about the world at large, about how to manage every Big Feeling he’d ever repressed just to make it through the next few hours.

He wouldn’t call himself a paragon of mental health. He’s still never said the words aloud to Harold, even though they’ve danced around that issue as much as they possibly can. He’s subsisted on hookups and beards for most of his life, and he’s never let himself imagine a world where the things he desires most want him back.

It’s a lonely way to live, according to Harold, and sometimes he wonders if the people in his life who know pity him for it.

Buck brushes past him into his hotel room, and Tommy takes five steadying breaths, presses his heels into the floor, and turns to stare at the back of Buck’s head while he stares around the room like he’s not set up in a carbon copy of it, six doors down.

Tommy shuts the door, and doesn’t let himself think about who might have been poking their head out at just the right time to see Tommy let him in.

(It’s a ridiculous thought. They’re friends. They play on the same team together. Maybe Buck is just here to lay into him the way Bobby hadn’t about how fucking stupid a risk it was to get himself thrown in the box with ten minutes left in a game.)

Buck makes a move towards the bed, then seems to second guess it. There is a painting on the wall that is likely an exact match for the one in every room on this floor, three uneven black lines splashed across a background of ocean-blue. A television taking up the entire length of the chest of drawers, a desk with an ergonomic chair tucked into a little alcove, and two uncomfortable looking chairs around a tiny table, cast in the orange glow of the city below them, framed by curtains Tommy hasn’t even been here long enough to close.

No distractions. No trinkets, nothing to draw the eye that Buck hasn’t seen a million times before, unless Buck is suddenly extremely interested in the airport bodice ripper cracked open and balanced on the pillow next to where Tommy had been lounging, before the knock.

Buck eyes it for a moment, shockingly blank faced, before he turns to Tommy and takes a deep, steadying breath.

Tommy doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

“I need to apologize,” Buck begins, once the air in his lungs has been blown back out, and Tommy’s eyes snap to his. Pockets. He has pockets.

Christ, he’s in the most threadbare sweatpants he owns, the pockets were a bad idea.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Buck.” Not to him, anyway.

“Evan,” Buck interrupts, and time stills. He feels like they’re threading a needle, frayed edges that refuse to line up, but if they just snip off the ends... “When we met, I told you to call me Evan, but you never did.”

His smile is wry, and he wrings his hands, nerves on full display as he takes yet another weighted breath. In contrast, Tommy feels like a marionette who’s master has pulled all his strings tight and wandered off to parts unknown.

“I do need to apologize,” he continues. “I’ve been — I haven’t been fair to you, or Eddie, but right now I’m... I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I’ve been a dick, and it’s not your fault.”

“Everyone has bad days.” And why is Tommy crossing his arms, now? What astronomically horrible thing is Buck about to say to him that he feels the need to guard himself from it? Sorry, I hope we can be friends.

“It’s been, like, weeks, man, you don’t have to sugarcoat it. Not my proudest moment. Series, of moments.”

Something loosens, in his core, a slow unravelling as Buck stares at him imploringly, and Tommy feels one side of his mouth tilting up. Buck’s gaze follows the little twitch, head tilting (always the fucking head tilt, with him) his own serious expression melting, just a little. “Noted.”

“Did I ever tell you my sister used to take me to Bears games, every year?”

The non sequitur throws him for a loop. Tommy rolls his lips in, bites at the flesh of his lower one and raises a brow, not bothering to pretend he has any idea where this is going.

“Travel leagues always made it difficult, but — every year we’d find a way to make it to the the teddy bear toss. We’d go with, like, ten stuffed animals a piece, and she’d always get the good seats — close enough to the glass that during that first toss, we’d get buried under all the ones that didn’t get thrown far enough to make it to the ice, so I’d spend twenty minutes getting all mine over the glass, and then all the ones that didn’t make it.”

Tommy remembers his time in Hershey fondly. He’d been down with the flu, for the first charity game, and halfway out the door for the second, but when that goal buzzer sounded and the stuffed animals rained down, he’d done the same thing as every other player on the ice, a time honored tradition of diving at the piles of them like kids jumping into freshly raked leaves.

“The last time she took me, I was fifteen. Too cool for school, by then, and I spent the whole game kind of hating her for making me go.”

Tommy blinks, doing the math while Buck’s smile goes a little wide.

“There was this player, though, that I hadn’t seen the year before. I was so scrawny, back then, and just, like, obsessed with goons. Just the idea of them. Big tough guys, whose only real job was to make sure if someone messed with their teammates they’d pay for it.”

Tommy’d played that game with three bruised ribs he’d re-injured jumping into a pile of kids toys.

Buck’s head tilts from one side to the other. “When that first goal got scored, and everyone started throwing bears, I was — I was up almost up against the glass, pouting about it, arguing with Maddie, trying to hand her all the ones she’d brought for me to throw. And this guy — this guy I’d nearly lost my voice cheering for every time he laid a filthy hit, right? He skated right up to the glass and started giving me shit for not helping my neighbors clear out all the stuffed animals stuck on the wrong side of the boards.”

Tommy doesn’t know when he’d let his arms fall loose at his sides again, or when they’d started to drift closer, but he’s close enough to smell the pomade in Buck’s hair when the memory surfaces.

“I had to barter my fucking stick to get you to start throwing bears.”

Buck’s laugh is quiet, soft and bright while his cheeks dance up. “I still have it,” he admits, eyes dipping to the floor, like he’s nervous. “Your rookie card, too. I mean, I have, like, hundreds of rookie cards, but when I found out we were trading for you I had Maddie pull that box out of storage, and for three months now I’ve been trying to figure out why.”

Tommy swallows, shifts his weight. Harold is gonna have a fucking field day, trying to help Tommy unpack all of this. Buck is smiling, wide, eyes catching the light as he chases Tommy’s gaze.

“My sister says there are better ways to get someone’s attention than maiming my best friend about it.”

Tommy has spent twenty years being overly cautious. The first and only time he’d attempted to hold down a relationship, the guy had decided to surprise him by buying tickets behind the bench for an away game three thousand miles away, and rather than enjoy the win and whisk him off to his hotel room before the rest of the team realized he’d left dinner early, he’d refused to look beyond the glass all game, and sent him a confirmation for a return flight, hiding in the bathroom between the second and the third.

Tommy wants to kiss him.

Say fuck it to the last twenty years, throw it down the drain, ignore every precaution he’s ever taken for the silver-blue shine in Evan Buckley’s eyes as he says too much and not enough at the same time.

He has great fucking lips. Pink and plump with a nasty habit of going a little pouty, when he’s at rest, and Tommy doesn’t need to look down at them to confirm, but he does anyway, and follows the line of his jaw, the stretch of tendons in his neck as he swallows. He can just make out the silvery line of the scar tucked next to the bunched up fabric of the hoodie he’s wearing.

“I don’t have your rookie card,” Tommy admits between breaths, and Buck’s laugh catches and falters just before he leans in and captures Tommy’s lips between his own.

It’s quiet, at first.

Tommy’s hand, with a mind of it’s own, slides up, two fingers pressing to the meaty underside of Buck’s jaw to improve the angle. Lips against lips, and the quiet breath that escapes Buck when Tommy is satisfied with the tilt of Buck’s head and drops his hand to Buck’s waist, fingers just ghosting over the fabric there before he presses his palm in.

Buck takes that for a green fucking light, surging in with a tilt of his head, nose pressed to Tommy’s cheek as his tongue slides along the seam of Tommy’s lips, half a step closer as one hand comes up to cradle Tommy’s jaw, the other smoothing over the fabric at Tommy’s shoulder, fingers digging in to the meat of his muscle for the span of a moment before he slides the hand down to cup his elbow.

Tommy gasps into his mouth, and Buck just dives right in.

When Tommy was twelve, one of the kids on the cul de sac, Terry Waters, had spent an hour complaining about his mom while they all practiced The Michigan, oblivious to Tommy seething in silence, barely keeping a lid on the urge to remind them all that at least they had moms. The only one of them who’d gotten close to nailing it was an eight year old girl on her pastel-pink roller skates, and Tommy can still remember the way she’d looked, for all of a moment, with the whiffle ball tucked against the blade of a stick half-a-foot too tall for her, right before Terry Waters had knocked a knee against her stick and dislodged the ball.

Two years later, he’d kissed Terry Waters under the bleachers in the gym of their high school, and when they’d broken apart Terry had wiped his whole forearm across the lower half of his face and threatened to tell Tommy’s dad if he ever told another soul what they’d just done.

Buck’s thumb slides across his jaw, tucks itself neatly into his cleft and presses down, just enough pressure to force Tommy’s mouth a little wider.

Tommy needs a minute. They both need a minute.

They both need to get a fucking grip, is what they need to do.

Tommy exerts some forward momentum on the hand that is currently fisted in the fabric of Buck’s hoodie, bunching it at the waist, and Buck whines, high and reedy, lips twisting up against Tommy’s, and though his torso follows the direction of Tommy’s hand, his head and neck don’t move.

“Buck,” Tommy murmurs across his lips, and doesn’t fight the feeling of Buck’s hand curling around the side of his neck, or the way Buck uses the fulcrum of his gentle shove to swing his hips and press his weight right back into Tommy, and — fuck, they need to think about this, they need to talk about this, they need to get further away from the bed that is right behind Buck.

Buck nips at Tommy’s lower lip and Tommy groans, desperately searching his mind for anything that could derail this without sending Buck running out the door.

“Evan,” Tommy says, and Buck stills against him, breath coming in heavy pants as he pulls just far enough away to catch Tommy’s eye. There’s a rosy tint to his cheeks, and a heavy look in his eye, mouth still open and an obscene little curl to his lower lip. Buck blinks, gaze taking a leisurely little stroll from holding Tommy’s gaze, down over the slope of his nose, right back to Tommy’s lips, and when he sways back in Tommy lets him, for just a moment.

Unfurling his fingers from the fabric of Buck’s shirt, he straightens his palm and tucks it up against Buck’s ribs, which earns him a breathy sigh and a squeeze at his elbow, followed closely by a groan of protest when Tommy presses, gently pushing him back half a step.

He blinks, again, a second before the grin begins to overtake his expression once more. “Tommy,” he intones, slightly mocking, and Tommy can’t quite hide the twitch of his lips as he tries desperately to keep a straight face. “Say it again.”

They need to talk about this. Tommy still has an apology of his own, fully scripted with contingencies for whatever reactions he’d anticipated Buck having. This hadn’t factored in to a single one of his scenarios. Tommy takes a moment to straighten out the bunched fabric of his hoody. “It,” he quips, shifting just his eyes up, staring through his lashes as Buck purses his lips in faux-irritation. Buck shifts his weight back, and Tommy nearly loses his balance without Buck’s hand to steady him. “Evan.”

He laughs, bright and happy in this sensibly decorated hotel room, with the lights of Boston casting the side of his face in an orange glow that makes the shadows of his laugh lines stand out starkly against his skin. “Yeah, I know why I introduced myself like that, now.”

Tommy would like to point out the utter insanity of the last ten minutes. Maybe see what he remembers of the Microsoft Office suite, set up a PowerPoint presentation with clipart and horrible transitions for each slide. Write a paper on how fucking batshit this is.

Buck slides his hand around Tommy’s hip, thumb rolling neatly and eagerly under the hem of Tommy’s shirt to shift against bare skin, and he looks a little smug when Tommy’s breath catches. Tommy attempts a stern expression, but he’s pretty sure all he manages is fond. “I am not sleeping with you tonight, Evan Buckley.”

“Presumptuous,” Buck murmurs, sliding back into Tommy’s space, two fingers in the pocket of Tommy’s sweats and the meat of his cheek sucked between his teeth. “I am gonna kiss you again, though,” he warns, and Tommy decides they’ll have plenty of time to talk, later.

---

Buck hitches a leg up over Tommy’s thigh, as the sun tips out over the horizon.

Somewhere between frantic make-outs number three and four, they’d stumbled their way over to the bed, and despite the hundreds of sirens and bells and gongs going off in his head, he’d let himself be tugged down over Buck, tongue sliding to the roof of his mouth while Buck snuck a grab at handfuls of his ass.

But he hadn’t pushed it any further.

It was only when their jaws had started to ache that he’d wheedled an invitation to stay out of Tommy, puppy-eyed pleading out in full force as he rolled his head against a pillow, glowering at the paperback in his way (how they hadn’t disturbed it, Tommy has no fucking clue) before tucking the thumb he’d had in Tommy’s mouth five minutes earlier in between the pages to hold his place while he scrambled up on his stupid long legs to grab a spare piece of paper from the notepad on the desk to use as a bookmark.

“I’ll keep my hands to myself and everything,” he’d promised, which had been a flagrant lie.

But he hadn’t pushed — fingers tracing the hills and valleys of Tommy’s abs while he admitted he’d had himself a nice long fit over how much Sidney Crosby seemed to know about him, lips ghosting over the arm of Tommy’s t-shirt as he told him about the enlightening conversation he’d had with Maddie, two days earlier, palm a steady weight against Tommy’s ribcage as he confessed to wanting to slew-foot his best friend for monopolizing all of Tommy’s attention, the last few weeks.

Buck’s half-hard, against the seam of Tommy’s sweats, but even as he readjusts the angle of the leg he’s thrown over Tommy’s, there’s no effort to ramp things back up. He’s been yawning between rambles for a good hour, now, and Tommy’s been too caught up in trying to memorize the exact color and shape of his birthmark to call him out on it. But his words have begun to slow, his eyelashes shifting against Tommy’s shoulder as he keeps trying to blink himself awake, and despite no longer having any plans for this morning, they’re both going to regret staying up so late when they have a game in a day and a half. “We should sleep,” Tommy says, and Buck digs his nose into Tommy’s shoulder in protest, shaking his head while he yawns into the meat of Tommy’s bicep.

“I’m — not even —.” His breath blows out hot against Tommy’s arm. “Not even tired,” he promises, fingers stretching out over Tommy’s ribcage.

Tommy’s hand makes a pass through the close-cropped hair on the back of Buck’s head and his lashes flutter closed. “Well, as you so deftly pointed out earlier, I’ve got almost a decade on you. Old man bones need rest.”

Buck snorts into Tommy’s armpit. “Thought we weren’t talking about your old man bone, tonight.”

There’s something achy and warm blooming beneath Tommy’s ribs that he absolutely refuses to acknowledge until they’ve both slept on this. He grabs the spare pillow from behind his head and whacks Buck’s thigh, instead. “Weak, three out of ten, I know you can do better.”

“Guess I need to rest and recuperate my flirting skills.”

Tommy hums, and lets his eyes tip closed as Buck fluffs up pillows and rearranges his limbs. He’s asleep before Buck’s even fully settled.

---

Tommy scrambles out of bed at the knock on his door, blinking sleep out of his eyes as his hand slides across the opposite side of the bed, which is rumpled and cool.

He takes a beat to wonder exactly how much of the previous night he’s going to regret, when a cursory glance around the room reveals no signs of Buck.

The knocking starts up again, and Tommy runs a hand over his face, checks the time.

9:45

Four hours of sleep, and still the latest he’s slept in in about ten years.

A third round of knocking interrupts his muddy thoughts, and he levers himself up out of bed with a groan, fully prepared to slam the door back in whoever’s face once he’s given them a cursory greeting and the stink eye, but when he swings the door open he’s met with the smiling face of Eddie, who is holding up a take-out bag with a raised brow.

Christ.

He hadn’t even looked in the mirror before he’d opened the door. He wonders how likely it is that Eddie will believe him if he plays off the hickey he knows Buck had been aiming to mark into the side of his neck as a bruise from Johnston’s chokehold, yesterday afternoon.

“Hey,” he says, and freezes a moment later when the toilet flushes in the bathroom.

Eddie tips his head from side to side. “So I guess you and Buck made up, too.”

(Teeth sliding along his lower lip, a hand around the back of his neck, Buck smiling bashfully against Tommy’s lips as he told him he’d apologized to Eddie before knocking on Tommy’s door.)

“Mm, yeah. We talked.”

Eddie squints at him. “Clearly.”

Tommy has no idea what the fuck that means, and he’s terrified to ask. They hadn’t talked about shit last night. (They’d talked about a million things, actually, the same shit they did with walls between them and phones tucked to their ears, but not this. Not exactly what either one of them were willing to let anyone else know.)

He’s saved the burden of responding by the bathroom door swinging open. Buck’s in the same jeans he’d worn the previous night, but he’s wearing one of Tommy’s t-shirts, and Tommy spends thirty seconds waffling between full-blown panic and a steady thrum of lust.

Buck snags the bag from Eddie’s outstretched fingers, and Eddie reels back, a practiced look of offense on his face.

Tommy is suddenly remembering the rumpled sheets and the indent on the pillow that is fully visible to Eddie from his position in the doorway. He doesn’t seem to notice, too busy staring at the bag Buck has cradled carefully to his chest. “What’s up?”

“Josh asked me to tell Tommy to, and I quote, ‘answer his goddamn texts and stop pretending to be a dinosaur, I know he knows how to use his phone’. End quote.”

“Well, you’ve told him.” Buck nods, and Eddie’s lips purse.

“Are you punishing me right now?”

“No.”

“Because it feels like you’ve made up with Tommy and now you’re trying to even out the time I spent with him solo by sharing our favorite food in this city with only Tommy.”

Which explains exactly why he’d been completely unsurprised to see Buck wandering out of Tommy’s bathroom at a completely reasonable hour of the day to find a teammate in another teammates room.

“If I give you half my sandwich, will you go back to running errands for Josh and leave me alone?”

Eddie rolls his tongue over his teeth, and tips his head side to side. “I want a full sandwich. I know you ordered an extra one.”

They have an intense little staring contest, right there in the doorway. Buck gives in with a dramatic sigh. “Fine.”

“And a pickle, just for the implication that I do anything for Russo of my own free will.”

Buck’s already tearing into the bag, reaching in to grab what Tommy assumes is the aforementioned sandwich, wrapped up in crisp white paper, which he slaps into Eddie’s hands before digging back in, in search of the pickles, most likely.

Tommy just stands there, head spinning, hyper aware of every muscle in his body while Buck piles more paper-wrapped items on top of the sandwich.

“Go away, now,” Buck says, shooing Eddie back away from the door, out into the hallway. “Let Tommy enjoy his apology sandwich in peace.”

“With you in the room? What sort of peace is he gonna get that way?”

“Goodbye.”

Tommy gets a last good look of Eddie’s bemused expression, right before Buck slams the door in his face.

A beat of silence. Then another, as Tommy listens to Eddie’s footsteps drift off down the hallway.

“Hi,” Buck says, and leans in for a kiss.

Tommy catches his jaw before it lands, and tries desperately to calm the swirling thoughts and not get distracted by the gleam in Buck’s eyes, or the subtle roll of his lower lip as it begins to jut out, pre-pout.

“I’m not out,” is the first thing Tommy can think to say, and Buck’s expression softens.

“Okay.”

“That — with Eddie —.”

“Tommy,” Buck says, voice low, the hand not holding the food curling over Tommy’s forearm. Tommy breathes, and wonders if this is how it’s always going to be. First sign of something good, and Tommy’s booking a one way ticket to the other side of the country. “Okay. That’s fine. I haven’t said anything. I - I wouldn’t.”

Tommy shoves his hands into his pockets and aims a glance at the bag. He’s fine. He can bury it. Let this all settle, and figure it out from there.

He should have sent Buck back to his room, last night, the moment he’d said his name.

“I’m — do you — should I go?”

You seem to do fine with relationships, right up until they feel real to you, Harold had told him, eight months in, after Tommy admitted he preferred it when Harold was a bit of an asshole getting his point across. Lets explore that.

Buck, who’d just spent two weeks quietly seething that his best friend was taking up all of Tommy’s time, looks back at Tommy with nothing but vague concern in his eyes, and Tommy spends a long, long moment reminding himself that he’d spent a good fucking year working his way up to admitting that he’d internalized a lifetime of keeping his feelings to himself and wrapped that up in a romanticized little bow he first time he’d watched Andrew Lincoln scramble to stop Keira Knightley from seeing her wedding film.

It’s self-preservation, he’d quoted to Harold, while Harold jotted something down in his notebook. Tommy liked to think he just kept a running list of all the stupid movie quotes he heard in their sessions.

“I don’t want you to go, Evan,” Tommy admits, and for once in his fucking life just lets himself enjoy the wide smile that brims across Buck’s face a moment before he leans in to press his lips to Tommy’s.

[austonwithan-o]

“Honey you’re my medicine”- Ethan Edwards

————————————

Bro idk this just popped into my head…

TW: HEAVY HEAVY DEPRESSION IN THIS. LIKE DON’T READ IF DEPRESSION TRIGGERS YOU. A lot of this was channeled from my experiences with depression -Drugs -alcohol

Lowkey inspired by the song People by Libianca

Proofread once!!

——————————————————————————

I guess your depression wasn’t as obvious as you thought. You were life of the party, the light of everyone’s life. That’s why when you decided to take the second semester of your sophomore year off to focus on your mental health people were absolutely shocked. You were bombarded by texts asking if you were okay, if people could come over to hangout and see how you were doing but your phone was on dnd. For a whole 3 weeks. Your absence hit Ethan the hardest mostly because he was your best friend since you were toddlers. His sadness turned to anger which turned to guilt.

Why didn’t you tell him how you were feeling?

What could he have done to help?

When did you start feeling like this?

He should have saw the signs earlier. The first semester at Umich you went to almost every frat party with him and hardly ever drank but one night you got absolutely shit faced. One night turned into 2 which turned into 3 which turned into 4 and so on. Ethan always took care of you after always driving you back to your dorm if he didn’t drink or called an Uber for you both, helping you into pajamas and taking your makeup off and putting you to bed. Sometimes one of the other hockey boys helped him as well just to make sure you were extra safe getting home. He just saw it as you finally getting over the freshman nerves and letting loose. He started getting concerned after you started mixing in some marijuana. He never knew you to get into drugs but shrugged it off when you told him to stop worrying and that you were just having fun. Being away from home, your family problems and dealing with the growing pains just got to be too much to handle. Everyone in your life felt so distant and so out of place. The feeling of being a burden and opening up to people made you pull away from them. You started to cope with alcohol and weed. Being on a college campus it was all pretty accessible. Part of you thought the change of behavior might open a position for Ethan to ask you what was going on but he only egged you on and invited the behavior. The developing feelings for him came crashing down on you faster than you could have imagined and you tried pushing them away not wanting to ruin the friendship you had but as fast as they came they imploded when rumors of him and a girl hooking up on the down low surfaced. It sent you over the edge in a way you never thought would or could ever happen. You decided to confront Ethan about it one night in his Jeep on your weekly late night drive and he just laughed about it asking, “what are you jealous or something?” He obviously meant no harm but you didn’t know how to respond. A few minutes later you asked him to drop you off at your dorm since you were tired. When you got back you got so crossed you didn’t even remember the conversation the next morning. Just the feeling of a bad hangover and migraine overtook you which you would take any day over whatever he made you feel that night.

You stopped going to classes after a while and switched to online because you could “focus on other things outside of school” is what you told Ethan. He again shrugged it off.

You wondered how long it would take him to approach you and ask what was going on. You were screaming for his attention, your cries for help weren’t loud enough to him. He carried on with the parties always inviting you but you turned them down time and time again.

It was 11 o’clock at night. The meals your mom prepared for you sat on your nightstand untouched and cold. A slight breeze blew through your open window and the sound of a car pulling into your driveway merely background noise didn’t even phase you.

A light knock on the door went unheard by you. Your mom answering the door,

“Please Mrs. Y/l/n I need to see her. I can’t handle another week of this.” Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot. His hair wet from a shower. He was holding a hoodie. A hoodie you always stole from him when you went out. He kept it in his Jeep just for you.

“Ethan she won’t talk. I’ve tried to talk to her. She has an appointment tomorrow. Trust me honey I’ve tried everything.” Your mom was slightly distraught by the boy showing up so late but he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Please let me try and talk to her. I need to see her I’m begging you.” He pleaded with the woman. A sigh of defeat left her mouth as she stepped aside. He didn’t hesitate. Making his way up your stairs he stood outside your door slightly letting guilt and fear take over his body.

Maybe I shouldn’t? He thought but his hand hand already opened the door.

There you laid in your bed. Your room a mess and the smell of food filled his senses. You opened your eyes laying your sight on the boy standing in the doorway. Normally you’d be embarrassed letting someone that close to you look at you and your space in such a messy state but you couldn’t even muster up a greeting. Tears started streaming down your face but no noise or movement came from your small figure.

It broke him seeing you in such a vulnerable state. He made his way over putting the hoodie on your dresser and crawled over you pulling the covers off you slowly, slipping in and pulling them over you both. His arms snaked around your waist pulling you into him. You weren’t even wearing pants, your t-shirt clad body pressed against his. The smell of you and the lack of a shower in days filled his senses only making his heartbreak more. God what happened to you? Is all he could think.

“Ethan,” You managed to croak out.

“Y/n I’m here. You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to do anything. I’m just here to lay with you.” He whispered into your ear placing his face in the crook of your neck slightly kissing it sending a shiver down your spine.

“Ethan I’m sorry.” Is all you could say, the tears ran from your eyes like a river soaking your bedsheets once again.

“Don’t ever apologize y/n. You’ve done nothing wrong just let me help you in whatever way I can.” Ethan felt the tears coming down his face, they soaked your hair.

“I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t stay there. I don’t know why but everyone. Everything it just got too much. The rumors of you. Everything.” Your voice was small and hard to understand over the sobs.

“Baby I know. I’m so sorry the world hasn’t been kind to you. You don’t deserve this. I’m always gonna be here for you, me, Marky, Rut, Lukey, Seamus. All of us have been worried sick over you. We all love you so much y/n God I wish you could feel that. The rumors are rumors y/n you know I would never do anything like that and especially never to you. I love you too much to ever do that. I’m yours and will only ever be yours.” His voice was shaky but he kept it together. He didn’t want his crying to overwhelm you to much.

You turned around burying your face into his chest making him hold you closer. His hand traveled down your back stopping at the small of it massaging light circles. His other one wrapped around your head lightly massaging it too. You felt an overwhelming sense of warmth cascading through your body at his touch. You needed your best friend and even more he needed you.

“Ethan I love you.”

“My girl I love you even more. More than you’ll ever know.” He planted a kiss on your head. The sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep and the warmth and knowledge of your safety in his arms sent him into sleep as well. Both broken in different ways but both healing with the same medicine. Each other.

[luvhu9hes]

Everywhere, Everything (Analisa Au!)

ANALISA AUGILARS PROFILE

Basics-

NAME: Analisa Aguilar 

BIRTHDAY: March 7th 2003 '21'

BIRTHPLACE: El Centro, California 

HEIGHT: 5’5

PIERCINGS: 2 lobe piercings, bellybutton piercing, eyebrow piercing

HEALTH: Low Iron

MAJOR: Sports Management, she's always loved sports and has a scholarship for her lacrosse skills

FACECLAIM:  Darianka Sanchez (or others from pinterest)

LOVE INTEREST: Luke Hughes

Fun Facts-

She is the middle child, her older sister Lillia is 24, and her younger brother Silas is 16

Her older sister is her biggest role model, she used to copy everything she would do and it would drive Lillia insane

Her younger brothers friends always had crushes on her growing up (she thought it was sweet, but Silas hated it and threatened to fight his friends if they even looked at her funny)

She lived in California until she was 11

When her family lived in California, they didn't have a lot of money, so she spent a lot of time with the community center youth programs, where she found her love of art and learned how to play lacrosse

Her favorite things are; art, lacrosse, baking, Dominic Fike, her camera, raspberries, rom coms,  and soccer

Loves and I mean LOVES swimming, and the beach

Secretly made out with Mark Estapa in the bathroom at a frat party her first week of college, before her and Luke ever admitted their feelings for each other. The only people who know are Lillia, Ethan, Rosie (Ana's best friend) and Luke (He looked so betrayed when he found out about it)

She met Rosie her freshman year and they've been best friends since.

She met Luke her first day of 8th grade in michigan, they bonded over being nervous, Luke was always nervous because he thought people would realize he wasn't like his brothers and wouldn't like him because of it, and Ana was nervous because it was her first day at her new school.

The minute the Hughes family met her, the immediately fell in love with her.

She became a big part of the Hughes’ lives after they met her, always going to games, and having family dinners together, they were practically her second family 

She was there for Quinn and Jacks draft days (the internet went crazy)

The boys try to keep her out of the spotlight and away from the hate that comes with it, but she still always finds herself blowing up on social media 

She spends every summer at the lake house with the Hughes’ and their friends (they let her invite Rosie and her siblings so she's not alone with a bunch of hockey guys all summer)

Due to her summers at the lake house she's gotten very close with Trevor and Cole (her and Trevor are absolute menaces)

She is a certified party girl she loves how they give her an opportunity to just let loose, they also give her an extra sense of confidence 

Her love languages are physical touch and acts of service, she's never been the best at putting her feeling to words, so she uses the two to show how she feels

Ana loves reading, it's hard for her to sit down long enough to enjoy books sometimes, but when she can it's like heaven.

Considering her camera is one of her favorite things she is CONSTANTLY taking photos on it, she actually has 2, she has a camcorder, and a polaroid camera

She has a box of polaroids in her dorm room that she likes to go through at the end of the year to look back at her memories

Luke introduced her to the UMich hockey team, and they're all besties at this point (things were awkward between her and Mark at first, but they're so close now)

Ana shares a dorm with Rosie, but spends most of her time at the hockey house 

Because of her friendship with Luke, Silas always credits Ana for him getting into hockey

Ana can sleep anywhere, like she could be at a party and fall asleep standing up (Luke has a collection of pictures in his camera roll just of all of the weird places and positions she's fallen asleep)

Ana loves board games/video games, and has forced all of her friends to have game nights every Wednesday (everyone pretends to hate it, but she knows they all love it)

Ana is the most competitive person ever, whether it's from lacrosse or her love of games, she's always been so competitive.

She honestly has a shopping addiction (she'll never admit that though)

She loves coffee and tea, iced in the summer and hot during the winter

She is an avid poster on social media, mainly tiktok and instagram, but she's certainly considered starting a youtube channel a time or two

Ana takes after her sister and if very protective of those around her and can easily stick up for herself

She's a passenger princess, driving scares her if she's being completely honest 

Only gets called Analisa when she's in trouble

She has two instagram accounts @/anamaguilar is her main account that everyone follows, and @/anabannana is her private account with only her friends and family

She's 100% the type of person to just randomly get at tattoo on impulse

Notes:

ahhh okay I'm glad to finally get this out, im not sure what took me so long to put this together, but everything for this series will be found under the tag "Everywhere, Everything Au!" Analisa has some similarities to me but otherwise she is my fictional baby and i have so much love for her, and i hope everyone else will love her as much as i do. I would also like to address that in certain pieces I will be writing about Ana and Lukes past because i just have so many thoughts floating through my head about baby Ana and Luke!

All love - Chaela

[writingonleaves]

and what if i really thought some miracle would see us through?

universe: nico hischier (though he doesn't appear in this part) x clementine sandoval x hughes brothers

warnings: cancer, grief, sadness, spoilers to first part (linked below), not proofread

title: "ronan" by taylor swift

word count: 1k

author's note: uhhh surprise?? reached 50 followers today (which, by the way, thank you SO much you're all so wonderful) and had a burst of inspiration and wanted to get out of my writer's block. tried something a bit different and put my journalism degree to use. if you haven't read the first edition of this au yet, please do!! hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!

Hockey Fights Cancer: Hughes Brothers Edition 

From The Athletic

L - R: Miguel Sandoval with baby Quinn Hughes, 1999, Miguel with Clementine Sandoval, Jack Hughes and Luke Hughes, 2005, Jack Hughes with his mother Ellen Weinberg-Hughes and Maeve Sandoval, 2019, Clementine, Quinn, Jack and Luke, 2020. All photos courtesy of Clementine Sandoval

*****

Family values have always been ingrained in the Hughes family. 

With Quinn, Jack and Luke drafted in the top 10 during their respective draft years, they’ve always acknowledged that it takes a village to get where they are. Talent is the obvious driver, but it’s also about the support to elevate that talent. 

But it hasn't necessarily always been family with the Hughes surname that has influenced them. According to Jack, there’s another surname that “should be added onto the back of my jersey.”

The Sandovals consist of Maeve Sandoval nee Brennan, Miguel Sandoval and Clementine Sandoval. Miguel died in 2015 from pancreatic cancer, and he is who all Hughes brothers are playing for as teams across the league celebrates Hockey Fights Cancer nights starting this week.

“Growing up three streets over from the Sandovals in Toronto was such a prominent childhood memory,” Quinn said. “Every memory I have from that time has them in it.”

Ellen Weinberg-Hughes, the Hughes brothers’ mother, and Maeve played collegiate soccer together at the University of New Hampshire. Maeve met Miguel at UNH, Ellen met Jim Hughes post-grad and the four of them became a unit. 

“I still remember meeting Maeve when she was a junior and I was a freshman,” Ellen says. “So outgoing and so skilled. She may have been the first upperclassman to make me feel really welcome.”

Though both couples would have lives that took them to separate places — Ellen and Jim to Florida and New Hampshire and Maeve and Miguel to Massachusetts — they would eventually all meet back in Toronto. 

Clementine was the first child born in 1997, followed by Quinn two years later, then Jack and then Luke. As the only girl in the mix, she naturally fell into the older sister role. 

“I always forget that I don’t technically have any siblings,” Clementine said. “But these days, whenever people ask, I just say I have three younger brothers. Because it’s true.”

Clementine is currently a second-year resident at New York University Langone Health, focusing on a combined emergency room and pediatric residency. After spending her undergrad and medical school years in California, when she was notified of her placement in March 2023, Jack and Luke immediately asked her to move in with them in Hoboken. 

“It was a no brainer,” Jack said. “After being in different states for so long, it felt like it was meant to be. Who gets the chance to live with one of their best friends?”

When Miguel was going through treatment, Clementine had just finished her junior year of high school. Quinn was 15, Jack was 13 and Luke was 11. He died days after Quinn verbally committed to the University of Michigan.

“I was young, but I still remember how positive Miguel was when he must’ve been in so much pain,” Luke said. “He always had a smile on his face and made it to every game of ours he could. I got a hattrick in the last game of mine he came to. I’ll never forget that.”

Miguel couldn’t skate for his life, according to Jim. But that didn’t matter. If he wasn’t at his daughter’s soccer games, he was going to the rink to watch the boys. 

“Miguel was known to be vocal in the stands,” Jim said. “Any bad call and he was immediately on his feet. I know he’s upstairs watching every Canucks and Devils game as passionate as ever.”

Last season, Jack and Luke revealed to Amanda Smith, the New Jersey Devils Team Reporter the reason why they chose 43 and 86. April 3 was Miguel’s birthday, and Miguel always said that Jack’s “bright and bold” personality was as loud as both of his brothers combined. 

“I often think about how [Miguel] never got to see us play in the NHL or for our country,” Quinn said. “Which is so unfair in so many ways, because he always believed in us and was such a loud cheerleader. There are days when I just get sad and I wish he was still here, but then I give Maeve or Clem a call and then it’s usually okay.”

Jack said that Clementine has always been the bright spot amongst the emptiness left by Miguel’s death.

“It puts things into perspective, the way Clee has lived her life beautifully and the way she thinks so positively,” Jack said. “I’ve always seen her as an older sister, but she’s also just one of the best people in the world. Miguel’s energy lives through her.”

“Having Clemmy in our life has been such a blessing,” Luke added. “She’s taught me so much and always looked out for me. I know the three of us try our best to look after her as well.”

Luke still remembers one specific moment during his draft — Clementine and Maeve made it to all three boys’ big days. The morning of, Clementine pulled him aside and gave him an envelope. Immediately, Luke knew what was inside. Quinn and Jack had gotten theirs during their drafts. 

A letter addressed to Luke from Miguel. Written two months before he died. 

“Dad gave those letters to me to give to them and was very specific about his instructions,” Clementine added. “‘Honey, pull them aside on their draft day, and just give it to them without any context. Only for their own eyes to read.’ I remember being like, how do you know they’re gonna get drafted? And he was like, ‘I just know.’”

All three of them still have their respective letters. Ellen and Jim have theirs as well — Maeve gave them theirs on Quinn’s draft day. Letters were a Miguel staple, according to Clementine. She herself got one when she graduated college and probably will get one when she gets married.

“I can’t imagine the amount of courage and strength that took him,” Quinn said. “Knowing that he wasn’t going to be there for such big moments and writing something anyways. I carry mine with me on every road trip.”

Next week, when the Devils host their Hockey Fights Cancer Night during their home game against the Canucks, the Hughes brothers will be playing for Miguel. Clementine, Ellen and Jim will be in the stands while Maeve — an elementary school teacher — will be watching from Boston. 

“We’ll for sure be thinking of him that night, but whenever we step onto the ice, 43 or 86 on our back, we always think of him,” Jack said. “I hope we’re making him proud.”

[puckpocketed]

good morning puckpocketed it is @wehaveagathering from my main blog! I was wondering (and if you have already talked about this link me!) what your feelings are on the sharks upcoming offseason, who you're hoping for them to draft, who you're excited to see play either in their nhl or ahl roster, anything! :]

first of all. hello wehaveagathering dot tumblr my sour gummy candy my bespoke watchface my press-on nails....! thank you so much for dropping by <33 hearing from you is like oughh hello microcelebrity who decided i was cool... !!!! ok. deep inhale. I present to you:

puckpocketeds sharks offseason roundup

I am of two minds with Sharks hockey:

Nothing will ever go as I expect/predict because Mike Grier works in mysterious ways (Hertl trade was a wild day) and given I am following the San Jose Sharks ...we are here for a laff first and foremost. At least until we're competitive again. No point in thinking too hard because it ain't that serious and i have 0 control over what happens <3

On the other hand . kljsdalkjsdkl I am reading Elite Prospects' draft guide like the morning paper and absorbing massive amounts of data about my little guys and listening to podcasts and also following juniors games (you may have seen my very regular and hinged Memorial Cup Posting) and, yes, I even watched college hockey . I am unofficially the prospects slide maker for the Sharks Primer that I haven't opened in a week.

You may have asked the one person on tumblr who can give you an unskippable cutscene i hope ur ready for an unskippable cutscene !

General Off-season stuff/contracts

i am being fed off the scraps of Henry Thrun + Devin Cooley interviews in scf post-game shows and stalking all of our beat reporters. i have all of them with notifications ON and they keep doing really funny stuff like suggesting Draisaitl coming to the sharks. also . wekky and keebs are hanging out with Alex Holtz this summer and it is THEE best thing ever. matching slides for you in these trying times? feeling very deprived of sharks hockey but sustaining myself by having little breakdowns about it with friends :3

Couture is the biggest question of the off-season to me. The plan rn is that he will be ready to play by opening night, if all goes well during his rehab. He's our captain, the team looked visibly improved when he was on the ice for the gorgeous 6 game stretch that he played with us last season (Coochie era you will always be famous), and honestly I think his contribution to morale is more valuable than anything else he brings to the ice. There's no chance he gets moved right now given his contract and health, but there's a chance he never plays another NHL game... his health and readiness to play determines who the Sharks target for acquisitions and what our team looks like down the middle (where our two biggest prospects, who are both centers, will end up). so much hinges on whether or not Cooch is healthy!! but at this point I'm just rooting for his long-term health no matter what happens with the team !!

To preface any contract talk; the vibe about Mike Grier is he’s wary of giving out long term stuff in light of his predecessor leaving behind the husk of Marc-Edouard Vlasic (said with deep affection) and several other nearly immovable contracts. pundits don't really see him giving anyone term unless they’re Confirmed Core Players and i agree! other than that... i don't have serious takes or predictions about term/dollar amounts. HOPES and DREAMS and PSYCHEDELIC VISIONS, on the other hand...

We're gonna lose some of our guys to free agency because they're. um. untradeable and not very good </3 (Hoffman, Labanc, Barabanov <- this one is a special case, Barbie's deal fell through because the Hertl trade happened and we're using our last retention slot on him) and whilst I do love the ongoing Bit of uncle Mike and sweet cousin Kevin, this frees us up to go looking for some guys who can mentor our young core!! (I hope Labanc gets a second chance somewhere and shows everyone that the sharks monumentally fumbled the bag on yet another ex wife !!)

The doors are open for free agency acquisitions... Everyone's throwing around big names but I think they're forgetting the fact that we actually gotta convince them to come to San Jose LMAO. cost of living + basement team unlikely to be serious about a cup run for at least another 4-5 years = not the most appealing place to go. We have seen speculation about FAs ranging from Stamkos to Marner lmaoooooo and i'll be honest I don't want to add to all that. I just hope whatever old man we staple to our youth he's fun and NOT a criminal !

For our other UFAs:

I'd like to see us re-sign Justin Bailey because he worked really hard for us down the stretch. we poached him from the cuda early on because all of our forwards were exploding and never gave him back even when everyone started getting healthy again! Maybe he can go help our cuda not flop <333

Jacob MacDonald holds a very special place in my heart because we like making multi-class jokes (he was forced to play forward for a big chunk of his time w the sharks even though hes a d-man LMAO) . I find his work ethic charming <3 he's done everything they've asked of him, and he's honestly done it Not Terribly. I would LIKE for the sharks to offer him a place here due to sentiment and i sort of think he's a sleeper depth pick…. but it seems less and less likely given that we’re going to market for d-men and we’ll have more forwards healthy next season.

Ryan Carpenter is another cuda acquisition we never gave back and is our beautiful returned shark son <33 he was a steady 4th line center throughout the Horrors. however, we were trying out one of our younger guys in that position (hello jack studnicka!!) towards the end of the season and im really wondering if we'll see him up with the sharks again. He's a great AHL player and I see him helping the cuda become competitive if we bring him back!

Devin Cooley my beloved. our junior shark. our silly rabbit. some context: the sharks org is doing something very strange and deeply funny with their goalie situation. we have like 6 of them and i genuinely have no clue where this is going. Optimistically, Cooley gets a something thrown at him because he's shown the ability to grow under the limited tutelage of our Very Good Goalie Coach Thomas Speer + he's a great feel-good story !! less optimistically... he gets traded on the draft floor because we can't have shit in san jose (KNOCKING ON TEN MILLIOB WOOD)

Our RFA sitch is a mixed bag:

Luke Kunin absolutely comes back. barring offer-we-can't-refuse type deals... they love him here. Is he GOOD? well no <3 analytics-wise, he is our worst performing forward and actively makes his lineys worse. but (and i imagine this is whats going on in sharks front office discussions) must a goonwag do silly things like "play hockey"?? can't he just get all snarly when our guys are pushed around? can't he play leg weight to our beloved prized prospects? teach them how to drive a line despite being hamstrung by the sloppiest turnovers ever? cant he just be sophia's less accomplished trophy husband...........???? also in his defence, he should never have been our 2nd line center. but everyone else exploded so !!! anyway I think he would flourish with fewer minutes and easier match ups on the 3rd/4th line. i want to see him hanging out in a depth position next season and goonwagging it up <3

I watched Thomas Bordeleau really work to solidify his place in the lineup towards the end of the season. I love his absolute determination to finish every game fighting. I am SO proud to call him a shark and he's become one of my favourite little guys <3 I knowww everyone knows him from the Narratives but EYE got to know him through his hockey and I am WRETCHEDLY endeared by it. He will stare down a 0-4 scoreline and keep playing hard no matter what, he has sprinted down the ice with seconds on the clock to make a play and ough ough oughhhhhghgh he is SO special to me okay !!!! okay. And I truly think that gmmg has to see that. They're trying to build culture here... something about being hard to play against, having will and size and skill.... Bordy doesn’t fit the Big Boys vision that Grier is open about chasing, but he does bring the attitude and work ethic… I want him to stay forever <3 next year is his breakout year MARK MY WORDS!!!!!

Henry Thrun was a bit up and down but honestly who on this accursed roster wasn't?? Some nights he was unironically our most effective d-man (as much as one can be on the 23-24 sharks) other nights he was competing in a flop contest with Pickles <3 i would like to see him get more pp minutes next season and work on being consistent, which I absolutely believe he can achieve. our beautiful draft dodger + harvard double major <3

Ty Emberson is a complete mystery to me. I've seen him play like 3 games. he's been very injured this season. I liked what I saw when he was on? Making his slides was SO hard ill be honest, there's so little out there about him. but i have a soft spot a mile wide for reliable stay at home d-men, i hope he gets a fair shot. also hes mackblack's bestie and nobody knows that and i need everybody to know that he has a special bond with his goalie like his defensemen forefathers . thats our defensive defenseman and his goalie okay . okau.

Calen Addison is . listen okay I love our little guy. let him say fuck!!! but he hasn't done well this year and this was sort of supposed to be his fresh start. what I want is that he stays on the sharks and turns things around and goes on to blast all his haters. I'm not very sure any of that will happen.

I can't be objective about Filip Zadina. I will not lie. I want him to succeed very badly but also I love our failwife dearly regardless... high draft pick who was touted as a goal scorer... can't let go of that identity... every coach hes ever had psychoanalyses him and is a leeetle obsessed with nursing him back to health like a sickly baby bird <3. gmmg give him 8x8 ! his place on this roster is very uncertain given that this was his 'prove it' year and it didn't go super well. i dread losing him. every day that ticks by where we don't hear about him re-signing leaves me less and less hope

Jack Studnicka compels me so much. We call him Dave . dont ask. He's in the process of shaking off his previous identity as a playmaking center and his anxieties/insecurities about uhhh having to fill the gaping hole in the Bruins' forward core left behind by a bunch of their veterans leaving. He's learning how to drive a checking/energy line and I feel a tenderness for him I can't describe... he's almost almost made it to the show and he will do whatever it takes to stay.

regarding certain trade rumours

There is once again trade buzz around Mario Ferraro.

...i think the rest of the league is under the impression he’s a top 4 calibre d-man. this is very funny and also i’m terrified that gmmg will trade him because of this. You truly don’t get a feel for how little any given team’s media pays attention to other teams - how little the national media pays attention to the western conference good GOD — until you follow the cali polycule.

if any disappointed Leafs fans are reading this after it was suggested they aren't looking to acquire him anymore . my brother in christ. Mario only eats those minutes because he’s got seniority here by default !!!! we simply do not have anyone else because they’re injured or they suck!!! i would go to war for our youtuber ,hes the greatest gamer and d-man in the entire league in my heart BUT i do have eyes and as the kids would say . he has improper crosshair placement and can't mulligan to play on curve </3

And for nuance…. perhaps there IS something to the fact that Mario was like .the only one who survived the 2019-2023 San Jose Rookie Woodchipper/Meatgrinder/Hydraulic press. idk. i wasn't there. He’s had a career high year this year (not that 21 points is that high asdljkasklj but. again. 23-24 sharks) so maybe he’s just waiting for the right conditions to break out, a team where he isn’t solely responsible for gluing the shambles together, and all the chatter about him being a prime trade target is true and this summer will be when his trade value is at its highest. it still doesn’t change his value to this team as a locker room personality and leader. He’s made zero statements about wanting to leave. the current regime does do Personality Hires and Intangibles (see Luke Kunin and i suppose now the Goodrow acquisition??), we can’t have our upcoming d-core thrown into the deep end without some mentorship and it certainly isn’t gonna come from Pickles — not that he can’t, i just believe in Marc-Edouard Vlasic’s right to be a bitch in peace! no one is untouchable but im 90% sure Ferraro stays.

THE DRAFT AND OUR PROSPECT SITUATION

The Sharks currently hold picks 1, 14, and 33. 1OA is spoken for <3 so 14 and 33 are the ones we care about here. (we have a bunch of later picks to play with as well — 42, 85, 116, 138, 143, and 194 if anyone was curious <3) And okay okay so,, Mike Grier was hired 2 days before the draft in 2022, which means 2023 was his first real draft year and this year will be his second. realistically, we simply do not have a lot of data for his drafting tendencies, nor will we know his 'hit' rate until years from now. our current pool, while thin, is looking... good? tentatively? the class of 2023 did very well. more on them later. so accounting for lack of data... i truly have NO idea whats going on except maybe we're leaning towards deepening our defensive prospect pool + throw in a goalie, and a slight preference for physicality and size but like thats every headass GM on the planet right now??? (as i type this out, ozzy weisblatt has been traded away for a someone over 6ft tall!! the mike grier big boy plan strikes again….)

so. i won't speak to who i think the sharks will draft but you will get to hear a very rough essay fragment i don’t think i’ll ever finish:

something i’ve been thinking about lately between reading all of these prospect draft profiles (and to an extent, making prospect slides for the sharks) is how few guys make it to the big show. these 17-18 year olds have dense paragraphs written about their puck handling and skating and hockey IQ — i enjoy the stylish ones that say stuff like “he’s the most creative forward in this year’s draft, he’ll dangle your best over a cliff” the most — but how many of them will pan out in the end? here, i could pull up the numbers. i don’t need to. we all know there are only so many nhl contracts to hand out, and only so many stalls in a locker room.

i’ve grown attached to a few names though their draft profiles. there are little threads of narrative you can catch from reading their game reports in chronological order. some of them visibly gain confidence month to month as they solidify their identity within the system and team they play on, some of them master board battles, some of them find their scoring touch. i am charmed by the interview fragments i’ve seen, their stupid answers to "what animal would you be?", the silly facts livetweeted by scouts at the combine. many of them come highly touted — the 2nd-12th project as almost certain NHLers. i’ve seen them shine in their juniors and ncaa matches. I feel like they must be destined for greatness.

Yet, i go back into the histories — a year ago, two years ago, five years ago, thirty years and beyond — and the histories tell me that no matter what was being said the day they got drafted, anything could happen. 7th overall buried in the press box. 123rd overall breaks a scoring record in his d+1 year. 29th overall carves out a regular spot on the first line and goes on to score 40 goals. 1st overall never scores more than 62 goals in the NHL. it's probably not smart of me to become invested in so many when, statistically, a whole lot of them will fail to live up to their projections. in the back of my heart, right behind all the inadvisable sentiment, lives a scream of frustration. it isn't fair that for the majority of these kids, the draft is as close to the nhl as they'll ever get. i hate that not everyone will get to reach for the stars. my heart will be broken when one or more of my favourites inevitably burns out of the league. and the real horror is knowing all this hasn't stopped me from becoming endeared.

my current draft favourites, no thoughts head empty if i could have any of these guys on the sharks:

Berkly Catton absolutely will fall to 14th overall in my HEART!!! this stupid league and its stupid preoccupation with tallgirls. doesn't matter that some of the best players hockey has ever seen were under 6ft tall <3 doesn't matter that high impact nhl players RIGHT NOW are hanging out around the 5'10 mark. Berkly Catton is elite stock by so many metrics except for his size (5'11, ~163lbs) and THAT will ensure he falls in the draft. and the dream is if he falls to 14th we snap him up and he comes to hang out in cali <3 i love his fish-eyed blank stare. he said he'd be a dolphin because they're slippery <3 and here's the short version of what I've read per his draft profile: he played on a bad team, with heavy minutes, being targeted by every opposing team as the only threat, and still doubled his output during his draft year. all of this while he worked hard in his own zone, dedicating himself to the more 'boring' aspects of the game. like he will hustle for a backcheck god BLESS. i love when skilled guys are defensively responsible SO MUCH. what little i've seen myself of his raw skill is incredible. magical hands maintained with speed. i also like how much he scans. i love being freaked out about a highlight, wondering how he knew where his teammates were, scrubbing the video back and seeing him scan the ice regularly. its beautiful. just like playing league of legends jungle . ahaha <3

if not Catton, then Andrew Basha at 14th, and if not then 33rd. Despite how high some draft boards have him, the reviews are mixed as hell due to the Spectre of Gavin McKenna and Cayden Lindstrom that hangs over him. It did not stop him from having an incredibly strong season in the WHL. fast, skilled, works hard. puck mover. in learning about hockey, I have come to love transition forwards SO much. Troy Terry was my favourite Duck to watch when he wasn't exploding <3 Controlled zone entries are soooo gifable to me. i got no clue if Basha will be available at 33 - a few are predicting he falls to the second round - or if the sharks would want him even then, but I would love to see him on the Sharks! if his speed and skill on breakouts can translate to the NHL it would be bitchin!!!!!! also, I have this idea in my head that he's already used to playing with elite talent and so wont be swallowed up by the huge shadows celebrini and smith will cast. maybe he can manage egos, maybe he's just really good at working around prodigies, maybe he's a prodigy himself, who knows!! I am compelled though!!

for d-men... Zayne Parekh. There are serious concerns scouts have with this guy's game. he is described by some as thee boom-or-bust prospect of this year's draft. dynamic as hell offensive defenseman, does things no other prospect in this draft would even think to do and . um. sometimes that thing is turning over the puck <3!!! or, as a random red wings podcast i was listening to this afternoon said: With Parekh, you might get Erik Karlsson, or you might get Erik Karlsson. and listen if you made it this far down you gotta understand that im a deeply unserious person about these things and this DID convince me that we GOTTA get him somehow. tbqh i wanted the Ducks to draft him because he was tragically separated from his bestie Pavel Mintyukov and i think a reunion would bring about an unprecedented era of world peace. but also. if they were on RIVAL TEAMS in the BATTLE FOR CALIFORNIA!!!!!!! oh that would be delicious <3 There's absolutely no way Parekh falls to 14th but this list isn't about realism its about my silly little dreams <3

Cole Hutson at 33 or 42 purely because i'm a fan of Lane Hutson (so so so jazzed to watch him play next season on either laval or montreal!!!!!) and they are similarly shifty and small. there is NO way mike 'you must be this tall to ride' grier drafts another 5'10 puck mover (<- more on this guy in a min). a fella can dream though <3

prospects who are my special little guys

Luca Cagnoni

ok quick recap. mike grier drafted Luca Cagnoni at 123rd last year. he is 5'10 (generously <3) and he's so special to meeeee <3 He's always been an offensive ROCKET!! so smart. WILL break ankles. great puck mover. great distributor on the pp. he's been working on his defence this year.

NO ONE THINKS HE'LL MAKE IT IN THE NHL BECAUSE HE'S LITTLE BUT EYE DO!!!!!!! If you go and check the Luca Cagnoni tag its literally just me and 1 other person. that 1 other person is now my friend. sometimes, my other sharks compatriots join in. but such is the nature of adopting a special little guy !!!

I get all misty-eyed thinking about how far he's come, from being undrafted in the WHL, falling to the 4th round in the NHL entry draft, and going on to have the strongest season a d-man in the WHL has had in 30 years. and yes he WAS the 123rd overall pick i was referring to earlier. He signed his ELC and it was the event of the offseason (to ME). it was more meaningful to me than the will smith signing i will be so real right now . I am hoping and praying that Luca gets a chance on the Sharks and flourishes.

sorry. sorry. i will NOT shut up about Luca Cagnoni. mike grier took a huge swing at the fences for him, he is so out of the gmmg wheelhouse its hysterical and i am genuinely shocked we drafted him. i wasn't there for it obviously but what was the draft floor like that day?? were people asking him Are You Sure, Sir. I'd have asked. i'd have knocked on his bald ass head to check if it was hollow (i, a bald person, can say this <3)

despite this. Luca Cagnoni WILL make it. ON GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kasper Halttunen

ok you saw me mem cup posting. this one isn't as deep!

i think he's got that dawg in him. him and his nepobaby london knights team were fun to watch!!!

i liked that he was squeezing denver barkey like a chew toy (gifed it, even!!!)

i am genuinely obsessed with the comments he leaves on other prospects' instagram posts. i've only looked around at a couple but yeah he's sure got a sense of humour <3

i would LOVE to see him develop out his 2-way game a little more and refine his beautiful bomb of a shot even further. i am excited to see how he progresses!!

bring him to the AHL as soon as possible gmmg i need to watch him squeeze the life out of his fellow sharks prospects

Macklin Celebrini

Alright this one seems so obvious because he's 1OA and automatically special BUT you guyyyyys. you guyyyyysss.... he's soooo good. I watched a couple of his college matches. I went back and watched some of his worlds matches. i have devoured so much literature on him. remember when I said i love when skilled players are defensively responsible?? Macklin Celebrini is that guy !! he is just so Shaped. the shape is Round. he is well-rounded like the beautiful sphere . the sphere where we will be drafting him. <3 yay !!!

no joke he IS a bit of a goon. finished his checks with a surprising amount of brutality in all the games i watched !! and like he had to be, I imagine he was getting targeted to hell and back in the NCAA. being 17 and playing against grown men. i like that he's got a bit of bite!!

listen, when the scouts and journos and pundits and coaches say he's "got a motor", what they mean is HE IS RELENTLESS. HE WILL NOT GIVE UP ON A PLAY. HE WILL RUN YOU DOWN AND THEN TURN AROUND AND SCORE ON YOU. HIS TEAM FOLLOWS HIS LEAD.

I just... I get the feeling he raises the people around him up to his standards because they can't help but want to match his intensity. I get the feeling that he is, aside from a great player, a great fit for the kind of culture the Sharks are trying to build. the Never Say Die Team. the We Will Eat You Team. i am completely, utterly endeared by his work ethic.

I think his little :^| face is so funny. i have posted about this before but when he smiles it looks like he has a few too many teeth and its GREAT. our shark. OUR SHARK!!!!!!

Honourable mentions:

Danil Gushchin: undersized creative forward with soft hands heloooo i love uou. mwah. unseat one of our girlfailure depth players next season i want to see u in the nhl <33

Shakir Mukhamadullin: Shak my noodleshark . he will absolutely see NHL ice full time next season if we remain bare on defence, so im not sure he counts anymore as a prospect. i believe in him so bad!!!!!!!!!!!

Georgi Romanov: unironically I think hes our only realistic hope for a Goalie of the Future. please survive the sharkuda experience my love <3

Will Smith: ROBBED of the hobey baker by our very own macklin celebrini. doesn't matter because he scored a dicktrick at hockey east finals and that shit was funny as hell. i think of him in terms of his boybestfriends BC Line which is forever shattered by his decision to sign with the sharks which means hes the driver of tragedy which makes him ELITE in my eyes.

honourable mentions 2 (obscure non-sharks edition):

Isaiah George: i fear i will actually have to watch the NY Islanders soon enough when they play him . i was watching the London Knights for Kasper and, as I do sometimes, I was struck by lightning after seeing him do something really interesting. I think I can probably go find the exact tags from when he first caught my eye. anyway! i am invested in him now and there is 0 current coverage on him !! ough my smooth skating defensive defenseman <333

Aatu Jamsen: a high skill/flashy forward the la kings signed to his ELC not too long ago <3 excited to see him play for the Ontario Reign. his lore is incredible. not to shill my own blog but i did a small post about him here and i am BEGGING everyone to go find out about him he moonlights as a RAP MUSICIAN!!!!. lak do not to bury him in the AHL forever im on my KNEES

Xavier Simoneau: les habs and their prospects got me. little guy (5'6) who is a bit fight-y. can and WILL go to battle against huge opponents for a puck and WIN. i look at him and slap my knee and i think. god damn he might actually do it. he might actually make the NHL.

Okay I think I will stop here before i start goin off about all the little guys i have tucked away...!! thank you for your time. thank you for handing me a mic and an excuse to yell about my little fellas. wehaveagathering dot tumblr you are thee flyers source to me. our failteams will soon share a shade of oranmge. I am very excited to fall in love with them!! <3

[duchesskatriel]

I came up with this AU a couple of months ago, and since a moot encouraged me to share with the class I might as well (plus I also wanna draw this AU lol)

I'll call this au Be Born as a placeholder rn lol

SO this au starts right after HMS managed to find a way to end the loop, and they harmonise permanently. Whole basically gains the courage to confess to his crush (still don't have a name for her) and she also confesses her mutual feelings, Blah Blah Blah, they date, yada yada yada, they get married and have a pair of twins.

I also have to say that Whole, whom I will call CJ from this point forward (Does NOT mean Chonny Jash, its a diff name, same acronym) is aware and remembers HMS quite a bit. Most of his memories/knowledge of them has faded since the harmonising was over 6 years ago, but he still remembers a few key details like their roles, some of their names and a blurry image of what they look like.

Soo like the VERY FUNCTIONAL human being CJ is, decides to name his twin sons after two of the voices in his head. Wow, clap for the man everyone whoooo-. The names he uses are Artemis and Apollo. A year later, they have another child whom he names, say it with me! ATLAS WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED AHH. Atlas was born on the same day as Artemis and Apollo so you'd argue their triplets lol.

OHHH this is a normal au there couldn't possibl- SIKE THIS SHET HAS ✨️MAGIC✨️ BECAUSE PLAIN HIGH SCHOOL AUS ARE OVERRATED /J /SILLY /LH

And this is where I ruin the au🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

OK SO during the time the twins still weren't born, Heart began to wonder what it must be like to live life as your own person, to have a childhood, go school- etc etc (HMS split up into existence when CJ was 18 not too long before he dropped out of college) he starts rambling to Mind and Soul about this, Mind tries to shrug it off as a plain "What if" sanario or daydream but also ends up thinking the same.

This is also fueled by the fact that they spent majority of their existence fighting each other never living an even remotely normal day in their life.

Soul wants both of them to be happy, plus he also starts to get infected with this desire and curiosity. SO he somehow finds out he can cut off a prong of the trident and make it a dagger which he can link Heart or Mind to making them particularly function as a soul.

Soul also wants to be with his halves so he asks for Heart's blindfold and Mind's crown to create a puppet that can serve thr roles of all three of them. Which he names Harmonia (AYO OMORIHMS AU FORSHADOWING?!?!?!)

Harmonia is basically a perfect copy of CJ lol. Soul leaves Harmonia alone to look after CJ with his trident(now pretty much a spear) a crown of a ruler who has stepped down from his throne and a blindfold used to protect its previous wearer from the blinding lights of the Sun.

You can kinda just ignore that part if you want (still on the fence with it but I'll most likely go with it) cus it doesn't really effect the story if you were to erase it. All that happens mostly is Deju Vu

I don't really need to explain which HMS is which kid hah.

I'm now gonna explain the three kids.

First is Artemis, who is TECHNICALLY the older twin (he came out first). Artemis is based on the right brain being not only the emotional side but also the creative and artistic side. So yes... he is an artist. Quite extroverted, still likes his peace and quiet, yeahhhh

Second is Apollo, the "younger" twin (funny because he's the tallest out of the three). Ehh, you know the drill, straight A's student... hot nerd even (JOKE. DONT KILL ME. NO. NUH UH. I WAS JOKING EH) the classic "grades over mental health because" guy. Monotone and deep voice but is surprisingly approachable (unless he put you on his "No likey" list based on first impressions lol).

Last but not least, Atlas, the poor younger sibling who keeps getting caught in the crossfire between his two older siblings. He's more on the athletic side, being hockey team (suggested by randa). The most energetic of the three, as a kid, he often asked his brothers to play with him, which is why the trio grew up to be really close.

Uhhhh some trivia/fun facts to maybe explain their characters a bit more:

• Apollo and Artemis "fight" from time to time but its mostly "YOU FATASS, YOU ATE ALL MY KITKATS" then dramatic pause then "Dad made waffles."

• Apollo's favourite book is No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai.

• Artemis is the shortest of the three and gets flamed by Apollo about it

• CJ doesn't have a favourite child

• Apollo is the one that sits on the front passenger seat of the car, and will die fighting for it.

• Apollo is a cat person while Artemis is a dog person.

• Sexualities

Apollo: Bi

Artemis: Gay

Atlas: AroAce

• Ages:

Apollo and Artemis: 16

Atlas: 15

• Aollo's fashion taste is dark academia

• Atlas and Apollo did karate for 8 years

• Despite this, Artemis poses the most threat to the average bypasser

• CJ's wife works abroad on a cruise. She only sees her family atleast once a year

• Atlas used to have a childhood dog named....wait for it..... DARREL

• Atlas has more then one occasion, forced Apollo to dance Rasputin on just dance.

•Apollo's sleep schedule is so bad he's immune system is absolute trash

• Artemis once forgot to lock his room during a family gathering and came back to one of his younger cousins scribbling on one of his paintings.

• Artemis dislikes the idea of having kids for that reason

• Artemis was struggling on a question so hard his tutor had to ask Apollo for help because neither could they figure it out.

Yeah that's all for now, CYA

[msmargaretmurry]

feeling very sad about the kuzy news not just because i'm going to miss him in dc, and because without him we are down to four guys from the cup-winning team, team of my heart, but also because this anticlimactic sad probably-ending to his time as a capital is so illustrative of how shitty this sport can be. he may not have out here speaking articulately in english about his mental health problems, but he was not shy about them. he didn't hide that he was struggling. he has spoken openly about how hockey culture can give you such a dark and destructive mindset and how much he cares about not bringing that home to his children, how he doesn't want his children to play the game because of that. about how he purposefully tries to not take things so seriously to protect himself from that even though he knows it pisses people off. instead of sympathy or taking the opportunity for a wider conversation people mostly made coke jokes. when he first went into the players assistance program i felt so sick because i knew people were going to be awful about it and i was right.

i'm so sad but i'm glad that gmbm seems to at least kind of be working with him to find him the change of scenery he wants instead of just dumping him. i hope he gets whatever kind of second chance he wants or needs, and wherever he lands he is able to find peace and joy. i will miss you beautiful bird man <3