#it’s like the playoffs never ended and we’re picking up where we left off

[jimothytimothymiller]

someone tell me why i’m cheering this aggressively for goals in the pre-season

[huggybug]

the love connection - elias pettersson

word count: 3.1k words

note: idk how i feel about this but it’s fine! we’re fine! also my brain is all over the place so sorry if this is kinda bad. anyways welcome to 3k of me being sad about the season being over😔 and special thank u to @gigglyparker for helping me w this ily <33

You shouldn’t have done it like this. It was supposed to be done over dinner after the playoff run that you were so sure they’d get, not through a lousy voicemail you left mid game as he was in Edmonton for their last game of the season. The guilt was almost enough to deter you from doing it but you knew that you had already waited too long. It wasn’t fair for you to keep Elias, he deserved better.

It took you two hours to pack everything you owned and get it out of Elias’ apartment which had also somehow became yours despite your apartment being across town, completely suitable to live in. You were up and out of his place before he got home that night, flying in late after their game in Edmonton. He didn’t know that, calling for you when he opened the door only to be met with silence. The first thing he noticed was that your big stupid fluffy blanket that you demanded always stayed on the couch was gone. He set his bag down before venturing further into the apartment, only to find your key on the counter, now separated from your keychain that it was usually kept on.

He called your name again, a little more panicked but when the apartment stayed silent, he reached for his phone, he pulled it out to see that he’d missed a call from you and there was a voicemail as well. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to look at his phone before now, too busy with the boys and trying to figure out when he was able to leave Vancouver. He played the voicemail, holding the phone up to his ear as your voice flowed through the speaker.

“Elias… hi. Look I know this is such a shitty thing to do but I just can’t do it when you have a chance to talk me out of it. I need you to know that you didn’t do anything wrong. As cliche as it is, it’s not you… it’s me. This is just something I need to do and I think we’ll both be better off because of it. So… don’t try to call or text me, I’ve already blocked your number. We both need this, okay? And we need a clean break or it’ll be too hard. I think I’ve talked myself out of this 10 times by now but… it needs to be done. I’m sorry E” He sat staring blankly at the wall as the message ended. That’s it? Almost a year long relationship just ended that easily? Elias wasn’t sure what to do with himself. His head was spinning with how out of the blue this was. He thought you were happy, that you were in love. He’d never been so blatantly confused.

…

You thought it was all a joke at the beginning; Elias somehow seemed to recognize you and pick you out of the crowd at the rare game you attended, and always delivered on passing you a puck. It truly didn’t seem real, almost as if it was a strange coincidence that it kept happening. Once could have been a funny story, twice was a fluke, but three times… it was a little harder to explain.

(1)

“Shut up! He’s totally looking at you” You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face as your friend nudged your arm. The he in question was one of the Canucks players that were warming up in front of you.

“There’s like fifty people he could be looking at, we’re kind of in a huge crowd right now”

“Oh my god look” Your attention goes in the direction she’s looking to see Elias making his way over to your side. He stopped to bend down and pick up a puck and the little kids around you all started to get riled up when he stopped in front of the corner you were standing in. At this point, you hated your friend for forcing you right against the glass where she claimed you had to be because how else would she get the good quality Quinn pictures? You’re brought back to reality when you feel smacking on your arm and you hear something hitting the glass. You look to see Elias tapping the puck on the glass and most definitely looking at you. He smiles quickly before stepping back and tossing the puck over which you catch easily. Your friend is busy bruising your arm as you gaze at Elias who simply smiles and skates away, continuing his warm up like nothing happened.

(2)

“You’ve got to go down there again” You laughed when your friend dragged you down the stairs at Rogers Arena for the second time.

“I don’t know what you expect to happen”

“He’s gonna see you. Trust me Y/n, there was a connection last time, he totally loves you” She said excitedly, finally stopping when you reach the glass on the Canucks side.

“A love connection?” You ask, totally humoured by her excitement.

“Exactly!” She exclaimed, which made you laugh. “Gosh you could’ve at least worn something to support your boyfriend” She gave your Av’s hat a distasteful look as she straightened out her own Canucks jersey.

“He’s not my boyfriend, you freak and Colorado is much better of a team, thank you very much” It was honestly the only reason you agreed to come tonight. She had been bugging you to come to another game, to test the ‘love connection’ of course, but you had turned down ever offer until you realized the Av’s were in town.

“Just wait… I bet you’ll be official by the end of the year”

“You’re insane, I’ve never talked to him and he’s a professional athlete, it’s not going to happen”

“Shh your boy’s here” You rolled your eyes but turned to watch the team come out onto the ice. It was about five minutes in when Elias came over, once again looking at you. You couldn’t even deny it this time, you were in an area where there weren’t many people and your friend was way too busy planning your life with Elias to hear your protests anyways. He skated up, juggling a puck on his stick as he flicked his gaze to you. He scrunched up his face as he tapped his own head, gesturing to yours and you laughed as you adjusted your Colorado hat proudly. He smiled and nodded at you before tossing the puck over from the blade of his stick.

(3)

You were in the corner this time, your friend had called for a much bigger group to attend tonight’s game, claiming they needed to witness the love connection before the season was over. “This is incredibly unnecessary”

“We need witnesses, this is your epic love story Y/n/n” Your friend announced and you laughed.

You stood sandwiched between your friends and watched as Elias skated backwards, colliding with the boards right in front of you and waiting for a moment. A couple of your friends had their phones out, surely snapping pictures and videos but you stayed frozen, hoping they’d stop because you could feel the heat rushing over your body. Elias left a few seconds later only to come back with a puck on his stick, tapping the glass with the blade before tossing the puck over for you. You shook your head with a smile, holding the puck up and he grinned before skating away.

“You’re going to be so happy I got that on video, we can play it at your wedding!” You groan at your friends incessant dreaming. Although you would be lying if you said the little routine was getting old, yet if it was going to continue, you’d have to start giving pucks away or else your apartment will end up a hockey equipment room.

It wasn’t supposed to ever go this far. Elias getting you a puck whenever he saw you at a game had somehow led to running into him and him getting your number.

“Dude, it’s the girl” Your curiosity got the best of you as you tore your attention away from your laptop when you heard the voice. You look up to find three men staring at you, two of them looking away quickly when they realize they’ve been caught and the third, sending you a small smile before turning away. You weren’t stupid, you recognized them immediately but you didn’t want to bother them so you stayed in your seat and tried to focus back on your work. You didn’t look back to the group of boys which took more willpower than you’d like to admit but your focus was broken when someone bumped into the empty chair across from you at your table in the coffee shop.

“Do you like hockey?” You raise an eyebrow when you look up to see Elias Pettersson standing in front of you. Looking past him, you see Quinn and Brock who are laughing at their friend’s horrible first line.

“I don’t hate it” You answered as you held back laughter, honestly curious to see where he was going with this.

“I’m sorry I just… do you go to Canucks games?” You bit your cheek at the possibility of him remembering you. The past few times you’d gone to a game, your friends had dragged you down to ice-level for warmups because ‘it’s the only way to get the full experience’ and you were 3 for 3 in getting a puck from none other than Mr. Elias Pettersson himself.

“I’ve been to a few recently, yeah” Elias’ eyes widened a little before he regained his composure. Brock and Quinn were still shaking their heads at him even though they could barely hear the conversation. “Although I’m assuming you already know that?” Elias looks like he’s been caught and it only feeds your amusement.

“I thought you looked familiar” His cheeks flushed and you grinned.

“Any reason you’ve been throwing pucks at me Mr. Pettersson?”

“I had to get your attention somehow” Elias shrugged. His shy demeanor was quite frankly, shocking to you. You wouldn’t have expected someone with the job and lifestyle that he has to be so reserved.

“Well congratulations, you’ve definitely got it”

“Does that mean you’d like to go out sometime?” Elias looked nervous but you found it endearing.

“Are you asking me on a date?” He nodded shyly and you laughed. “I’d love to”

“See? I did it with my words this time” Elias said proudly, which made you laugh again.

“Took you long enough, I’m running out of space for all these pucks”

Agreeing to getting coffee had turned into date after date and before you knew it, you were in a full fledged relationship with an NHL player.

You had convinced yourself it would be a fling. Maybe a couple months of casual dates and hanging out. It was not supposed to end with you crying in your apartment, hating yourself for what you did. The breakup was your choice. Your fault. You self-sabotaged. Which meant you had no reason to be upset. However, seeing Elias living his best life, traipsing around Europe didn’t make anything easier.

…

“You’re back” You breath hitched when you came face to face with him for the first time in four months. It seemed like a cruel joke that the spot you ran into him just happened to be the coffee shop that you had met in last year.

“I’m back” Elias said quietly, distracted by how familiar yet different you looked. The busy café seemed to slow down when your eyes locked on his. The noise dulled and you swear that you could hear your own heart beating. “How have you been?” You almost snorted at his question, thinking of how you could say ‘horrible and this was the worst summer of my life, please take me back’ without sounding desperate.

“Fine, you?” You weren’t fine. This summer felt like torture and every second that you spent away from Elias was painful.

“Amazing” It was silent for a beat and you were about to turn around, give a simple goodbye, and leave without turning back for your own sake but Elias spoke up. “Why did you do it?”

“This really isn’t the place Elias” You sighed, looking around at the people who had already looked over when the realized it was the Elias Pettersson.

“Can we talk then?” You wanted to say no, to leave and hopefully never see him again but the other part of you was so desperate for anything from him that one more conversation seemed like a major win.

…

“I want an explanation” He said as soon as you stepped outside.

“Elias-”

“No. You left me with no warning, I want to know why” Elias was stubborn and as it was in your relationship, you were incredibly annoyed by it.

“It just wasn’t the right time”

“That’s crap” He scoffs and you roll your eyes.

“You can’t ask for a reason and then get mad when I give you one”

“I won’t be mad when you tell me the real reason” He said simply and you huffed. Of course he knew that wasn’t it. It was Elias, the man that knew you better than you knew yourself. He would obviously be able to tell when you were lying.

“You were going to Sweden… it was going to be too hard” You were terrified of Elias leaving. It already sucked when he left on road trips but that was only for a week or two at a time, this would be four months without him.

“We should’ve talked, we could’ve worked it out”

“No Elias… I didn’t think I could function with you being gone and I know that’s dramatic but… well it doesn’t matter now anyways” It was over, you had made sure of that all those months ago when you made the call.

“It does matter” He sighed, stopping to look at you.

“I couldn’t deal with you leaving. I thought that if I ended it on my own terms, it wouldn’t hurt so much” Your confession slipped out and you regretted it immediately.

“How’d that work out?” Elias broke the silence while smirking and you were terribly close to smacking it off his face but you refrained.

“Amazing, you asshole, thank you” You smiled sarcastically and he laughed a bit. The lighter mood brought a small smile to both of your faces as you walked down the sidewalk together. You weren’t sure where you were going especially since your car was parked the other way but you didn’t say anything.

“Don’t call me an asshole, I’m not the one who broke up with you on voicemail”

“That’s a little uncalled for” You grumbled. “I’m sorry, okay? It was stupid and immature but I figured four months apart would be torture so it was easier to just end it”

“Do you love me?”

“What?” You asked, unsure if you heard him wrong.

“What didn’t you hear?” He replied and you narrowed your eyes at him. Elias Pettersson was a major pain in your ass and he wasn’t about to change.

“This isn’t what I agreed to talking about E” Your stomach was doing flips and you felt lightheaded.

“I know you didn’t actually want to break up with me and now that I know it was for a bad reason…”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just answer me”

“Fine, yes, I love you” You confessed. “I saw you had quite the summer though. Did our breakup really not affect you?” You watched through instagram as he travelled to Greece and Rome before coming back to visit Quinn in Michigan. It was hard seeing him have what seemed like a dream summer break while you were suffering in Vancouver.

“No” He answered simply and you paled. “Because I knew we’d get back together”

“We’re not back together” You pointed out and he smiled.

“Give me a minute” He said quickly before taking a deep breath. “I love you and I can’t pretend like I understand why you broke up with me but I don’t care because I want you. If you don’t want me to leave then come with me. I’ll get you a spot on our plane and you can come on every road trip this season. I’ve already gotten you stuff at my house in Sweden, I was ready for you to come this year” Your heart is pounding and you’re waiting for him to tell you he’s joking but when his expression stays serious, you know that’s not the case.

“Really?” You ask cautiously and he nods to confirm. “I’m terrified of losing you Elias”

“I promise you… I’m not going anywhere, you’re all I want, love” He holds out his hand hesitantly and you grab it, looking up at him with a wide grin on your face.

“We’ve come a long way, hey?” You ask him and he looks at you funnily.

“Why because I don’t have to throw pucks at you anymore?” He asked and you smiled as you squeezed his hand in yours.

“Mhm” He laughs lightly and you tug him down so that he’s a little closer to you. “I love you, E”

“I love you too, now come on” he kisses your forehead quickly before taking off while dragging you behind him.

“Where are we going?” You ask as pulls you down the sidewalk.

“I need to get you a puck” You laugh loudly as he leads the way to Rogers Arena where he was already heading for a morning practice which he was now almost late for. You talked a bit as you walked down the streets of Vancouver, more Elias telling you all about his new house in Sweden and how excited he was for you to see it next summer. Thankfully, the arena wasn’t too far from your coffee shop and you were there in less than 15 minutes. You tried to ignore Brock and Quinn’s knowing looks when they saw you but you couldn’t maintain your straight face when they attacked you in hugs.

Elias presented you with your puck and kissed you in an empty hall of Rogers Arena and while it was probably silly, you both thought it was romantic which is all that mattered.

“I’ll see you after?” He asks, slowly walking away after Quinn came to warn him that practice was starting soon.

“Sure… oh and Elias?” He turned back with bright eyes, humming to acknowledge you. “I won’t need a spot on your plane, I think I’ll be okay” You grin and he shakes his head while laughing.

[fruitcoops]

Cake Off

Happy birthday, Finn O'Hara! Here's to hoping all your wishes come true <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Marlene waved to the camera as she wove a small whisk into her bun; behind her, five young men sat in front of a well-lit industrial kitchen. “Hello, Lions, and welcome back to Lion Pride! I’m your host, Marlene McKinnon, and we’re here today to celebrate someone we all love very much.”

“Some more than others,” Leo corrected.

“Today is Finn O’Hara’s 25thbirthday,” Marlene continued. “And my gift to him was letting him pick what our next video was going to be. Being the agent of chaos we know and love, he chose to force his friends to make him birthday cakes. Cap, Knutty, I know you two are feeling pretty confident about this. Tremzy, Kasey, and Loops, how are we feeling today?”

Logan’s expression was rather pained. “Can I apologize in advance?”

“I have…a history with ovens,” Kasey said carefully. “Kind of like Britain’s history with the rest of the world, except I’m the rest of the world and the oven wins nine times out of ten.”

“I don’t bake,” Remus sighed. “This is going to be an adventure. Can I leave if I already got him a present?”

“Nope!” Marlene chirped. “To your stations, everyone!”

The five of them trooped to the countertops, which had been covered with a colorful assortment of baking supplies; Logan’s smile grew even more nervous. “Is there a guidebook, or something?”

Marlene ruffled his hair as she passed. “Where’s the fun in that? You have two hours to make a unique birthday cake. On your marks—”

Kasey went pale. “Wait—”

“—get set—”

“Marlene, please,” Remus begged.

“—go!”

“Oh my god,” Logan muttered. “Uh, I don’t have a recipe.”

Marlene’s grin was wicked. “That’s the extra bonus fun.”

Leo paused from where he was measuring flour into a sifter and raised his hand. “Finn’s not actually tasting everyone’s cakes, right? ‘Cause making him sick on his birthday seems a bit mean.”

“He only has to try one bite of each,” Marlene assured him as she stopped by Sirius’ station, where he was gathering his ingredients in a line. “Cap, what are you making today?”

“Vanilla with chocolate frosting. I know the recipe by heart, but I only make it when I’m stressed.” A furrow appeared between his brows before he straightened up and raised his voice. “Hey, someone stress me out!”

“Playoffs!” Kasey shouted from across the room. All five men immediately hurried to knock on the wooden cabinets.

“Thanks!” Sirius gave him a thumbs-up and Kasey winked.

“And somebody won’t be sleeping tonight,” Remus muttered, flicking sugar at Kasey. “Thanks, Bliz.”

Logan was still bracing himself against the countertop when Marlene arrived at his table. “How’re you feeling, Tremz? I see you haven’t chosen any ingredients.”

“There’s a very fine line between making your boyfriend a birthday cake and poisoning him,” Logan said after a moment. “And I think I’m about to find out where it is.”

“What are you making?”

“I don’t know yet. Whatever happens, happens.”

“Fair enough,” Marlene laughed as she moved on. “Leo?”

“I’m gonna make a lemon cake,” he said with a proud smile as he mixed the dry ingredients. “And it’s going to be delicious.”

“Do you bake at home very often? You sound confident.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “For special occasions, yeah. I vaguely know what I’m doing, so I feel pretty good.”

“How do you think Logan’s cake will turn out?”

Leo paused and glanced up. A beat of silence passed before he bit his lower lip. “I think it’s a really good thing that Finn has two boyfriends that are making him cakes.”

“Rude,” Logan grumbled as he dumped another cupful of flour into a bowl to Sirius’ obvious horror. He stuck his tongue out. “Don’t give me that look, Cap, this cake is going to be fucking amazing.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows and turned back to his own batter. “If you say so.”

Logan stood on his toes and poured the next cup directly over Sirius’ head in a poof of white. The studio went silent. With a cough, a bit of flour puffed from Sirius’ mouth. “Cap?” Kasey ventured.

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Mhmm.” He slowly took a towel off the oven door and wiped his face with it, then whipped around and snapped it at Logan’s thigh—it connected with a sharp sound, followed by a yelp as Logan shoved Leo in front of him as a makeshift shield. “You can’t hide behind him forever!”

“Remember, you only have two hours!” Marlene called as she dodged a patch of flour on the floor. Sirius scowled and put the towel back down on the counter; Logan backed away to his station with a suspicious glare. “Loops, how are you?”

“I’m minding my own business,” he said innocently. “Staying in my lane. Paying no attention to the idiots behind the curtain, if you will.”

“Impressive. What are you making for our wonderful Harzy?”

“Spite cake.”

“What?”

“Spite cake,” he repeated with a shadow of a smile. “It’s carrot cake, but with no special ingredient of love or appreciation, because he knows how much I hate baking and he’s been making fun of me over text all morning.”

Leo frowned. “Weren’t you two bonding over how much you hate carrot cake when we went to lunch yesterday?”

“Hence the name,” Remus said as he pulled a cheese grater out of the lineup.

“And last, but certainly not least, Kasey.” Marlene leaned against the edge of his table. “How’s it going over here?”

“So far, so good.” He eyed his batter and poked one of the lumps with a fork. “Does this look ready to you?”

“Seems a bit wet, to be honest.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Do people put milk in cake batter?” On the other end of the kitchen, Sirius and Leo shared a look.

Marlene patted his arm. “Good luck, Bliz.”

The camera cut for a moment—when it returned, the three bakers on the far end seemed to be even more flustered than before. “You have one hour left!” someone off-screen announced.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Logan held his spatula up. The batter remained stuck to it in a doughy lump. “Is this supposed to happen?”

Leo’s eyes flickered between Sirius, who was clearly shocked into silence, and Logan, who was growing more distressed by the second. “Sure, honey.”

“Baby, it looks like jello,” Remus called as he shook his mixing bowl with a nervous glance to Sirius. “Why does it look like jello?”

“Mon dieu,” Sirius muttered as he crossed the room; the second he looked over Remus’ shoulder, his eyes widened. “How did you…?”

“I don’t know.”

“You put flour in, right?”

“Hey, no helping!” Kasey protested, swatting Sirius on the shoulder with an oven mitt. “We all fail on our own merit here. Tremy’s making concrete, Loops has jello, and I’ve got soup, so you and Knutty can fuck off back to your perfect batter and let us suffer in peace!”

“Jesus, Bliz, did you put water in that?”

“No! I put butter and milk in!”

“Why?”

“Because!”

“One hour left!” Marlene shouted.

“Fuck it, it’s good enough.” Remus grabbed the nearest cake pan and dumped his batter in, then put it in the oven. He turned the heat on and faced the camera guiltily. “Harzy, I know this was meant to spite you, it really was just meant to be a carrot cake. Not…that.”

Logan sprinkled a handful of chocolate sprinkled into his mixing bowl. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he singsonged. “But I know I’m doing it poorly!”

“Oh my god,” Remus said suddenly as he licked some of his batter off his finger. “Oh my—oh my god.”

Kasey looked up from pouring his batter into a pan in mild alarm. “What?”

“Oh my god, that’s terrible. Here, try it.”

Kasey put his cake in the oven before swiping a bit off and tasting it. His whole face scrunched. “What?”

“I know,” Remus laughed, passing the spatula to Logan. “It’s like getting punched with a cinnamon stick.”

“I can feel it in my nose,” Logan coughed. “Here, try mine.”

Leo regarded them with a healthy amount of disbelief. “Why are you all tasting it if you know it’s bad?”

“Because Marlene needs workable content.”

“Do it for the vine.”

“Because I’m a dumbass, rookie.” Kasey lifted the spatula up. “Cap, your fiancé made toxic sludge in cake form. Want some?”

Sirius hesitated, then sighed and headed over. Leo threw his hands in that air. “You, too?”

“What else am I supposed to—” Sirius faltered with a harsh exhale and braced his hands against the counter, licking his lips. “How many eggs did you put in that?”

“Four? Five?”

“How much cinnamon?”

“A teaspoon?”

Sirius took a fortifying breath through his nose. “Teaspoon or tablespoon?”

“Tablespoon,” Kasey answered for him. “Definitely a tablespoon. Try mine.”

“You two are never allowed in a kitchen again,” Sirius said, though he swiped his finger along the inside of Kasey’s bowl and tasted his batter with a grimace. “Ugh. It’s just melted butter.”

“How did you make it taste like salty butter and nothing else?” Logan asked, sounding genuinely interested.

“Well, Tremzy, I put salt and butter in it.”

Leo’s phone timer went off and he opened the oven door; four faces turned toward him in shock as he pulled a golden cake out and checked the center with a toothpick. Logan closed his eyes and bent closer, taking a deep inhale. “I wish the viewers could smell this, because it’s heaven.”

“Can it be my birthday instead?” Kasey asked. “Please?”

“Get back, you hyenas!” Leo whacked him lightly on the hand with a spoon when he reached out to poke the cake. “That oven was 350 degrees!”

Sirius glanced up at the camera. “That’s 177 degrees, for all you smart people out there.”

“Boo, Celsius.” Remus kissed his cheek. “You smell like sugar.”

“How much time do you all have left on your cakes?” Marlene asked from her perch next to the sink.

Logan, Remus, and Kasey shared a look before Logan turned back to her. “I don’t know?”

“You can’t answer that with another question,” she laughed.

“Ten minutes,” he guessed.

“Whenever it starts to smell good,” Remus said. “Though I doubt that’s going to happen.”

Kasey cocked his head and scanned Leo’s cake for a second. “When it starts looking like that.”

“It won’t,” Leo informed him.

“Damn, Knutty, okay.”

Marlene shook her head. “We’re going to cut filming until everyone’s cakes are out of the oven, but in the meantime we’ve got some special messages for our favorite redhead.”

A banner reading Happy Birthday, Finn! appeared on the screen with a burst of confetti before the usual studio replaced it, with its white walls and folding chairs. Dumo crossed one leg over the other with a soft smile. “One thing I admire about Finn is his tenacity. When he wants something, he’ll go for it with his whole heart.”

“I love his humor,” Leo said in the next short video. He was smiling as well, and had a faint blush on his freckled cheeks. “And the way he makes breakfast in the mornings. All the little things he does to make the people he loves happy. And he really does love with his whole heart. There’s no holding back with him.”

“Finn?” Sirius thought for a moment. “He’s a good person. I know that might sound lame, but he’s one of those people that you meet that always makes you feel happy, and confident, and supported. Anyone who meets him should count themselves lucky.”

Logan’s face was filled with nothing but affection. “I love his patience and his kindness. Whether that was helping me work on my English in college, or making the rookies feel welcome, or even the way he talks to complete strangers when they ask for directions on the street. Everything about him is kind.”

“Ah, jeez.” Remus bit his lower lip. “I think—I think what I admire most about Finn is that he never lets anyone else define who he is. He’s comfortable in himself and makes everyone around him feel safe. It’s sappy, but it’s true. He’s one of my best friends and I’m grateful for him every day.”

“He’s one of the most reliable people I’ve ever met,” James said. “Both on and off the ice. He will be there to support his friends in any capacity and I think we all need to be a little more like Finn that way.”

“Great player.” Arthur nodded. “Great player, and an even better teammate. I can put O’Hara anywhere on the ice and he’ll throw everything he’s got into doing his best. I can’t think of a single Lion who doesn’t love being on the same shift as him.”

Talker grinned, leaning back in his chair with a shake of his head. “Finn just loves hockey. He takes it seriously, of course, but he loves being out there with us and I’m always happy when we’re on a line together. He goes out there every night and has a blast. I admire a lot about him, but especially that.”

“It’s hard to pick one specific thing that I admire about him,” Kasey said, shifting in his chair. “He’s Finn. He’s annoying as all hell, and I love him for it. I’m not sure. Can I make a list?”

“Harzy is very cool,” Olli laughed. “Very cool and very fun to be around. He has a quick wit and truly cares about all of us.”

Kuny raised his eyebrows. “What I like about Harzy? Oh, everything. Everything. He is good friend, good teammate, always there when we need him. Good for Tremzy and Knutty, too. He would turn red like fire engine if he heard me. Don’t tell him I say that.”

The video changed to a wide view of the whole team as they waved to the camera. “Happy birthday, Harzy!” they chorused. “Bitch ass moves!”

The kitchen was much cleaner when the video resumed; all the cooking supplies had been taken away, leaving five hockey players with their cakes in front of them. Leo’s cake was a bit lopsided, though the yellow frosting was cheerful and even—next to him, Logan’s cake looked more like a squished loaf of bread. Sirius’ was plain and elegant, while Kasey’s frosting was still dripping as the camera zoomed in on it.

“Wow,” Finn said after a moment of silence from his seat at the main table, where five slices of cake had been placed on small plates with a label for each name. “Just…wow.”

“You can start with whichever one you want,” Marlene told him.

“I think I’ll save Cap and Leo’s for last. Uh, Kase, what happened here?”

Kasey sighed. “I wish I knew.”

Finn gave it a wary look, then took a bite; his chewing slowed to a stop almost immediately and Logan’s shoulders started to shake from his suppressed laughter. “You know it’s burnt on the outside and not cooked on the inside, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Just checking.” With great effort, he swallowed. “Why is it wet?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, man.”

Finn took the next plate, then paused. “Re, I love you, but…”

Remus shook his head. “I know.”

“I’m genuinely afraid to try this.”

“You should be.”

The second it touched his tongue, Finn started laughing. “Jesus, it’s a straight shot of cinnamon. Why is it crunchy?”

“It’s carrot cake!”

“You know I hate carrot cake!”

“Look, I gave it my best shot. It really wasn’t supposed to do…” He gestured at the plate. “That.”

“Lo, baby, please tell me yours is better than the last two.”

Logan thought for a moment. “It was made with love and that’s all that matters.”

Finn took a deep breath before taking a bite. A range of emotions washed over his face—pleasant surprise, then confusion, then horror, and finally disbelief. “I…what?”

“I don’t even know.”

He swallowed, then ate another bite. “Oh, bad idea. This—are there chocolate chips in here? And almonds?”

“Yeah. You like those, right?”

“Usually, yes. It’s kind of got the texture of fruitcake, but—” Finn broke off and picked the slice up, giving it a shake. Not even a crumb fell out of place, and the rest of the boys burst out laughing. “Lo. Logan. Light of my life, what the fuck?”

“Happy birthday?”

“This is the best birthday present ever. Alright, Cap, your turn.” He took a piece of Sirius’ cake and nodded. “Yep, that’s cake.”

Sirius blinked at him. “And?”

Finn shrugged. “It’s cake. Classic flavors, good texture. I like it. Definitely tastes like a cake you would make.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“He’s calling you basic,” Kasey said, patting Sirius’ shoulder sympathetically. “But hey, at least yours was cooked all the way.”

“And now for boyfriend number two,” Finn continued.

Leo rolled his eyes. “Boyfriend number two.”

“Oh, that’s so good,” Finn groaned around a mouthful of cake. His eyebrows pitched. “I love it.”

“What about it?” Marlene prompted.

“For starters, it’s cooked all the way through. The lemon is freakin’ amazing, and the frosting isn’t melting off the sides or anything. I can’t even taste everyone else’s anymore. It’s a helluva cake. Happy birthday to me. Will you make this every day?”

“No,” Leo said, though there was a pleased flush on his face. “But maybe on the weekend.”

Finn scraped the last of the crumbs off his plate. “Alright, everyone, come get a piece of this magic. Thank you for doing this, by the way. I know three of you hate baking.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Logan admitted as he settled himself on one of Finn’s thighs with a slice of his own and kissed his temple. “Sorry for almost poisoning you. Oh, that is tasty.”

“I love you anyway. I think Loops and Bliz were actually the closest to doing that, so you’re all good.” Finn raised his eyebrows and craned his neck over Logan’s shoulder. “Speaking of…”

“Lasagna or chicken piccata?” Remus asked. Sirius took advantage of his moment of distraction by stealing a bite off his plate and received a playful glare in response, though it was soothed by a kiss on his cheek.

“Lasagna, please.”

“Does Friday work?”

Finn gave him a thumbs-up. “Sorry, Harzy,” Kasey said as he carefully got the last bits of frosting off his fork. “I have no marketable skills to apologize with. You don’t want me anywhere near a stove or an oven.”

A gleam lit in Finn’s eye. “Will you get in all your pads and play chicken with Knutty and I?”

“For the twentieth time—”

“It’s my birthday,” he wheedled, pouting his lower lip out with the Bambi eyes turned to full blast.

Kasey sighed. “Fine.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Thanks for joining us for our birthday celebration,” Marlene said with a smile. “The best estimations of these recipes are linked on our website, with a few tweaks to make sure none of your loved ones get food poisoning this August. Have a great day, Lions!”

[mha-princess]

Let’s Play Ball

[Bakugou x Fem! Reader]

Masterlist | Request Rules | Request Box

Genre: 18+ | College AU | Oneshot | crack

A/N: before you all ask yes Bakugousquad has to be friends in all of my fanfics i litterally can not help it also I am very upset that I’ve been slacking on writing but I still hope you enjoy ⁍̴̆◡⁍̴̆ )⊃♡- Anako

Warnings: unprotected sex, breeding, explicit language

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: a bakugou x reader college au where katsuki is new to the school and the football team, and he develops a little crush on his football captains sister. Who is definitely OFF limits.

“I just don't know where we can find another quarterback before the playoff game! Kaminari you idiot!” Akawa cursed, throwing a pillow at the injured male.

“Hey man, if you wouldn’t of overworked me at practice we wouldn’t be in this predicament. Kaminari said sending the pillow right back at your brother, who catches it easily.

“Plus I told you Kirishima has a friend who's transferring here soon. matter of fact he'll be here monday so you don't need to worry, I promise he's good enough to take my place for now .”

“He's good enough to take your place, but is he good enough to take us to the championships.’ Akawa beckons, you roll your eyes at their bickering.

“Football this and football that. Stop worrying so much It's not that serious.” Akawa and Kaminari scoff at you in unison.

“We’re going to bring this college a trophy. Its my duty as captain to make sure of it.” Akawa brings fist to his chest as if he were swearing to an oath and Kaminari follows in the same motion.

“Both of you. Leave. “ You shake your head as you open the front door. Kaminari reaches for his crutches as your brother grabs their bags.

“Don't you feel bad kicking out a cripple?” Kaminari questions, limping past you.

“Yeah! Don't you also feel bad kicking me out too!? I’m your brother!” Your sigh and shove them out the door.

“I know I tried to get away from you, but out of all the scholarship offers you had you decided to pick the college I wanted to go.” Your bother stops in the doorway.

“You know I have to keep an eye on my little sister. I gotta protect you from these racid guys.” Kaminari laughs at your brother’s teasing as you force him out of the doorway.

“Goodnight.” You say, slamming the door in their faces.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“Now class I know this isn’t a high school course, but we have a new student today and I would all like for you to greet him formally and treat him with the same respect you give your peers.” Your administrator announces.

You elbow Kaminari, “She talking about Kirishima’s friend, right?”

Kaminari shrugs, eyes glued to his phone screen. You then snatch his phone from his hands.

“Y/N! There was only nine people left.” He whines reaching for his phone. You hold the phone far out of his reach.

“You know if your brother wasn’t a psycho I would’ve been accused you of liking me. Seeing how much you pick on me.” Your mouth drops in offense.

“Me ? Like you? Could never.” You roll your eyes giving him his phone back and before he can express how you had just hurt his feelings the door to your classroom opens.

“Ah, Mr. Bakugou, it’s nice to have a transfer from such a prestigious school.” Your administrator walks over and firmly shakes the boys hand.

You take a moment to take in the the male’s appearance. His uniform is disheveled, his ash blonde hair is unruly, his bangs are choppy, and his shirt is unbuttoned revealing his collar bones. He didn’t look like he was from a prestigious school. But even though his presentation could use some work his overall appearance wasn’t bad, he was clearly the athletic type.

“There’s a vacant seat next to Mrs. Y/N, so if you would seat yourself so I could get started.” The administrator gestures to the desk and the boy takes his seat.

After that the rest of the class went by as usual. Kaminari asked stupid questions and you struggled to stay awake during the lecture. Once the professor dismissed you all, you pack quickly up, but your stay was prolonged due to the injured Kaminari.

“Welp off to sit on the bench at practice.” Kaminari sighs grabbing his crutches. You try not to laugh, grabbing his backpack.

“I can take it.” Your turn to see that Bakugou hadn’t left, “I don’t know where the field is anyway.” You and Kaminari turn to eachother, but say nothing.

“I got something on my face or something? The hell you too lookin’ like that for?” You snap out of your confusion.

“Nothing it’s just your nothing like how Ejiro described.” You say letting him take Kaminari’s bag.

“Huh? What did that bastard say about me?” The blonde questions.

“He said your an ass-.”Kaminari starts, but you cut off his oxygen with a quick punch to the chest.

“He said your an amazing person.” Bakugou scoffs.

“Whatever, just show me where the field is.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“It’s so hot out here.” Kaminari whines from the bench.

“Maybe it’s because your not playing.” Kirishima teases sitting on the turf, poking at the cast around Kaminari’s injured ankle.

Bakugou and Akawa approach taking a seat next to Kirishima.

“Well look who it is! My replacement!” Kaminari exclaims with fake enthusiasm.

“More like permanent replacement.” Bakugou sneers as he watches Kaminari’s face fill with panic.

“Akawa, you bastard! You gave my spot away?!” The yellow haired boy yells in a questioning manner, throwing a crutch at the captain.

“Easy! For now your still our primary quarterback! But if Bakugou wants to challenge you for your spot, I’ll allow it.” Kaminari picks up another crutch, but Akawa is too fast and darts down the field before he can throw it.

“You’ve been here one day and I’m already getting booted.” Kaminari sighs.

“I’m an asshole, but not that big of an asshole. I’d just wait to take your spot next year. It’s almost the end of the season anyway.” Bakugou responds shrugging.

Kaminari raises a crutch but Kirishima stops him, “It’s too hot to be beat to death by a man with a broken ankle don’t you think?”

Kaminari huffs, sliding down the bench.

“I have so much homework. I shouldn’t be here.” The yellow haired boy groaned at the thought of having to use his brain.

“Just get Y/N to help you after practice.” Kirishima says, taking a sip of water.

“Y/N definitely tired of me. She’s been carrying my stuff all day I’d rather not bother her anymore.”

“Who the hell is Y/N?” Bakugou questions, taking the water bottle away from Kirishima and finishing the remaining amount of liquid.

“Y/N? You took my bags from her earlier.” Bakugou nods in understanding. “She was hot.”

Kirishima and Kaminari turn to eachother, an all too fearful glint in their eyes.

“What are you fucks looking like that for?” Bakugou furrows his brows.

“Bro Y/N is like the most hands off girl in this school. Akawa will kill you and us for even talking about his sister like that. As long as Akawa’s her brother your not getting even a little close.” Kirishima explains.

“Plus we wouldn’t let you use her like that.” Bakugou glares at Kaminari.

“You fucking dunce, I might be an asshole, but I wouldn’t use a girl like that. She’d be my girlfriend before I ever tried anything.”

“That’s nice to her coming from you that is .” Kirishima sighs in relief. Bakugou raises his hand to hit Kirishima but he maneuvers out of the way.

“Seriously man its good that you think that way! But good luck getting past Akawa, your gonna need it.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

To be frank, he didn’t need it. Well no let me rephrase you too just hadn’t got caught. After that day at the field Bakugou began to grow more talkative and more open. After a month he was no longer that transfer student, he was your friend.

After few more he was your boyfriend and suprisingly Akawa remained unaware. It’s was hard but you had to admit it was fun. From sneaking kisses in during and between classes to you occasionally stealing him and taking him back to your dorm for some alone time.

But to be honest it’s was growing tiring. Eventhough the adrenaline of being caught was a nice rush, but the more serious you and Bakugou grew the more you both wanted the world to know that you were together.

“But Katsuki the problem isn’t I don’t want to tell him! It’s that I can’t tell him, do you not know how mad Akawa will be at me?

“Well we can’t be a damn secret forever. So I think it’s in your best interest to tell him. Or I will.” Katsuki threatens, as he lay lazily on his back sprawled out in your bed eyes glued to his phone screen.

“Katsuki!” You pout grabbing hold of his arm, not feeling shocked when he pulls away.

“Katsukiiiii.” You whine throwing a leg over his body to straddle his waist. He doesn’t acknowledge you, rather he just keeps looking at his phone.

Feeling aggravated with his silence you lean down and press a kiss in between his neck and his shoulder blade. He pays you no mind. You then let your hand travel down his chest and to the waist band of his pants, causing him to briefly look away from his phone.

“Don’t.” You take your lip in between your teeth.

“You know that’s only makes me want to do it more.” You say letting fingers enter the waistband.

Slowly, you let your fingers trail over his pelvis. He tenses up but still continues to pay you no attention. As your fingers slide down further you take his length into your hand.

“Katsuki.” You whisper in his ear.

“Dammit Y/N stop it.” His breath hitched as you began stroking up and down his shaft. “Your not getting out of this.”

“Mhm.” You respond continuing to trail kisses all down his neck and to his chest, stopping when you reach his underwear.

“Katsukiiii.” You tease. Finally he adverts his attention to you. “Can I?”

He says nothing, instead he lifts up his hips so you can pull his pants down.

“I knew you wouldn’t say no.”

“Shut the hell up.” He mumbles, finally discarding his phone to watch you.

Your mouth falls open has you take his erect member into your mouth taking him as far into your cavern as possible, and taking what you couldn’t throat into your hands.

Bakugou exhales deeply as you swirl your tongue around his firmness. You moan around the thick cock filling your mouth. You could taste the salty taste of precum leak on to your tongue as you continue to bob your head and twist your wrist . A river of saliva beginning to pool over your hand.

Soon enough Bakugou is no longer composed. His hands find there way to your hair as he begins to buck his hips in a sharp motion.

“I-I’m gonna f-fuck.” He groans, not giving your throat a rest as he continues to fuck your mouth. Moaning against his cock only encouraged, him to thrust harder. Your hand eventually lost its purpose as his cock was buried deep in your throat, causing you to gag relentlessly.

Your eyes fluttered up to his face, which was tense from his upcoming release. His lips parted slightly as he let his cum pour down your throat.

Slowly, you let the blondes cock fall from your mouth, a line of spit dribbling down your chin.

“Shit Katsuki, your still hard.” You say eyeing the males hard on as you slip off your pants and underwear.

“I wanna ride it.” You move back up to straddle his waist, your pussy aching from arousal of the blowjob you had just given. Desperately you take two fingers and rub them against your dripping cunt.

“Then fucking ride.” Bakugou groans at your actions, unable to deny you. You smirk as you take hold of his length and position it at your entrance. Cautiously, you let him fill your insides. His cock dragging so good against your walls.

“Shit Katsuki.” You moan, placing your hands on his chest for more stability. He sighs as you begin to rock back and forth on his cock. The rocking eventually turning into steady bouncing, Katsuki’s hands finding your hips.

“You fuck me, so good.” He grunts, allowing his hips to fall into rhythm with your bouncing. The lewd sound of slapping and simultaneous moans fill the atmosphere. A familiar warmth building in the pit of stomach.

“I’m g-gonna cum on your c-cock.” You feel him twitch against our walls as his grip on your hips tighten. His hips thrusting up erratically, chasing his own release. The sudden change in speed hitting something deep inside of you.

“R-right there Katsuki. Right there. Feels so good.” You whimper, losing all rythmn as he hits that spot deep inside you. After a few more moments of abusing you pussy, you cum your walls clamping tightly around his cock.

“If you don’t move I’ll cum inside.” He groans, but doesn’t stop. You slump over on his chest as he continues to fuck you into overstimulation.

“Fuck, cum inside.” You breathe heavily against his ear. Your boyfriend’s cock twitches desperately inside you as he nears his release. You let your teeth sink into his shoulder as he pumps his load into your pussy.

After coming down from your high you roll off of Katsuki and pull the covers over you both.

“I’m going to tell him, just give me a bit more time ok.” You say, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Bakugou then runs his hands through your hair and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I was just being an ass, take your time. I’m fine with waiting to be with someone I love.”

[leafs-lover]

If he's lucky I'll let him join

Part 8: Everything's changed

Series Masterlist

A/N: The ending is finally here, don’t hate me too much!

Warnings: Swearing, angst (I think that’s it)

Word Count: 2000

“I uh-“ you bring a hand up to wipe away a stray tear. “I gotta go,” you whisper. Pulling away you practically run to the door.

“He doesn’t want you,” he calls out as you reach the door. Letting go of the handle you turn around, Auston still in the middle of the living room, the exact spot you left him. “You’re going to see him? Fred?” he queries, sensing your next move. Your face contorts and you take a deep breath preparing for his next words.

“I know him, he’s not interested like that, not anymore,” Auston says lightly.

Anymore.

That word stings. When did Fred stop losing interest? Was it when you had the first threesome, or the second? When did he stop wanting you, and how didn’t you notice?

“You’re wrong,” you say yanking the door open and heading down the hall. He is wrong, it has to be. Needs to be.

“Hey,” Fred says opening the door. The smile on his face falls when he sees the devastation written all over yours. “What’s wrong?” he asks, knowing you are more upset than a few hours ago.

He attempts to pull you into his chest but you throw his arms down, stepping around him into his apartment. “Y/N, what happened?” he asks concerned. The large metal door slams shut, the sound echoes through you, the hairs on the nap of your neck standing upright.

“Do you like me?” you ask bluntly.

“Of course I do y/n,” he laughs in disbelief. “I wouldn’t hang out with you if I didn’t.”

“No, but do you like me?” you repeat. “Do you see a future for us? Or am I just an easy lay?”

“You’re not just an easy lay,” he says somewhat disheartened. “You’re a great girl, I love spending time with you.”

That’s not the answer you wanted to hear. That is the answer you have given men before, men have given to you. Normally it’s followed up by some cliché bullshit, “it’s not you it’s me,” or, “I think we’re better off as friends.” It’s the kind of statement used to soften the blow, though it never does.

Sensing there is more you probe him, “but?”

“I just don’t see this being more than what it is,” he shifts awkwardly on his feet, running his hand through his long red hair. With hairdressers and barbershops closed and playoffs approaching, Fred along with a few other players have been growing their hair out. It’s now about an inch and half longer than you have ever seen it before. “I don’t see it…not anymore.”

There it is, that word again. The word that implies you had a future, a potential, but it has been ripped from you. Worse part is you didn’t even know it happened.

“When?” you demand, fighting back your tears. You hear his door gently open, Fred’s eyes snapping up to meet the sound before falling back to you.

“Let’s sit y/n,” he offers. Reaching out for your hand you shake him off.

“No, just answer my question," you plead.

"Y/N," he sighs, eyes flickering over your face.

"When?" You're tone is getting louder, your frustration with the situation, and his inability to explain his feelings, bubbling up. "When did you stop seeing something with me?”

“When you two fucked,” he blurts out, his eyes shifting between you and Auston. “Finding out you two were spending time together, together, just the two of you. I just…I can’t get past it.”

“But it –“

“No, you can’t say it was just sex, or nothing serious y/n, you can’t,” he sighs. Taking a few seconds to compose himself, he continues, “I saw how you both looked at each other at parties last year. I noticed how his breath would catch in his throat when you’d walk in, or how your eyes lingered a little too long on him. It sucked,” he says. His eyes drop to the floor momentarily as if looking at you suddenly hurts, but he finally musters up the courage to meet your gaze once more. Straight faced, Fred’s eyes bore into you with a fear— a vulnerability you’ve never seen before.

“But coming back this season I didn’t really have expectations on us. We hadn’t seen each other much since last March really, we talked a bit but that was it. I didn’t know if we’d kind of pick up where we left off or if it would just be sex. And in the beginning it was just sex, that’s why it didn’t matter when he’d be there too,” he eyes to Auston who is leaning against the door, silently watching the exchange.

“At some point it changed for me and I started to get the idea it did for you too,” his eyes are full of sorrow as they stare at you. “So I ignored the lingering glances when we’d watch movies, or how when we’d make dinner he’d pull you aside for a kiss. I thought it was just a part of the threesomes, and that when he left it was us. Just you and me,” his voice breaks while he fights through the pain.

“I thought you’re mind was solely with me and none of that mattered. Maybe I was in denial, or too blind to see it…But once I found out you two were fucking, that’s when I knew it wasn’t in my head. Some part of you was with him, even if you couldn’t admit it. And honestly if it was anyone else I probably wouldn’t care, but knowing it’s someone you look at that way, I just….no y/n I don’t see a relationship with you, not anymore.”

“I…I’m sorry,” you whine. Frustrated tears trickle down your cheeks as you pull the edge of your hood over your head, wanting to hide your weakness from the room as if somehow it’s judging you.

You have spent the past couple weeks trying to process your feelings for both men, trying to separate them. It’s not an easy task given how you spend so much time with both of them. Internally you have gone back and forth between the two, and you thought it would become glaringly obvious which way you were leaning. Which man your heart was leaning towards.

Hearing Fred, hearing how he doesn’t want you, you realize just how much you want him. How much it is him you want to be with. You realized you never wanted someone as much as you ache for Fred, and it tears you open from the inside out knowing he doesn’t feel the same in return.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he steps forward wrapping his arms around you. “You were allowed to sleep with anybody you wanted, we never talked about it, and we probably should have. Or once I started to feel differently I definitely should have, but you don’t have to apologize, you did nothing wrong.”

That burns. How could you have done nothing wrong, yet you are losing him? If you did nothing wrong he should be yours. Things don’t end if everything goes well.

“Okay,” you croak out, barely managing to find your voice.

He holds you, and for a minute you feel safe. Almost as if the thing you’ve wanted for a year and a half isn’t shattering into a million pieces around you. It almost feels right, you almost feel safe. Your tears scorch your cheeks but pale in comparison to the hollowness in your heart.

He doesn’t let you go, not until you are ready. His heart against your ear calms you down. Each time it thuds, you cry a little less, until finally you have no more tears to shed. Sensing your easing grip on his shirt, he pulls back and places a soft kiss on your forehead. “You two should talk,” he breathes lightly.

Releasing you, he walks away leaving you with Auston. Turning slightly you see him leaning against the wall, having watched the entire exchange. Your eyes sting from the tears but you can still see the despair written on his face.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you what you deserve.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

How can he ask you that? Right here and now? He can tell you are crushed by losing Fred, how can he expect you to be so willing to carry on with him as if nothing happened? You’re furious— the pulsating devastation inside your chest borderline unbearable. How you’re still standing is a mystery.

Your voice is barely a whisper as you admit, “I don’t know how to give you what you need.”

“I’m not asking for you to, not today,” he steps forward causing you shoulders to stiffen. “I get your in pain right now, but I’m still here. I want to be here. Whether it’s a week, a month, 3 months. I want to be here, with you,” he smiles at you. “I want you.”

“I…I can’t,” you barely manage a whisper. Gulping you feel tears building behind your eyes. “I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

You catch a nerve. His eyes turn dark as the muscles begin clenching in his jaw, and he suddenly starts rubbing his hands across his stubble. A nervous tick. He always does that when he’s uncomfortable. Pushing past him you reach for the handle when one of his hands grasps your arm. His grip is tight, likely going to leave marks but he doesn’t care. Leaning down his voice is hollow, “you leave y/n and that’s it. The minute you walk out that door, that’s it.”

His eyes narrow at you, waiting for your response, when you don’t, he suddenly lets go of your bicep. “Auston, I-“

“Are you saying no to now, or no to forever?” he asks. Staring up at him you know he knows the answer, the pain in his eyes tugging on your compassion. You’re relationship with Auston was mostly based on sex, but when you actually sat down and talked to him, confided in him your worries and fears, he listened. He consoled you, comforted you, made you laugh to keep you distracted, but it just isn’t enough.

Fred has always had a piece of your heart, a big piece. It wasn’t until you heard Auston admit his feelings, making summer plans, that you realized he wasn’t the person you wants those plans with. But Fred doesn’t want you, you can’t just forget about the mark he left and move on with Auston. Your heart doesn’t belong to Auston, it belongs to the person who doesn’t want it. You just wish it didn’t take you so long to notice.

“You’ll make some girl really happy one day,” you sniffle wiping away the tears from your eyes.

It’s true, Auston is a great guy, an amazing guy. The blow of losing Fred would only be masked if you had Auston to curl up with at night. He could bandage you up, pick up the pieces. Only problem is he won’t find all the pieces. Or maybe he would one day, but it’s not fair to him to stand by waiting to see what person comes out the other side. And once you do come out, would you still want Auston? Or would his purpose be served now that you were whole?

It’s not fair to string him along, especially if you don’t know if your heart will be his in the end. Everything is going to hurt like hell tomorrow, that much you were sure of, but in the long run, this is for the best. Turning away you grab the handle. This time he doesn’t stop you, this time you walk out the door, and out of both their lives for good.

[kerwritesthings]

Homecoming

Summary: It hurts to crash and fall, but helps when you have someone to help pick you back up

Word Count: little over 2.2k

Warning: fluff with a slight touch of oh sad, cursing and a little illusion to naughty

Author Notes: So hey, muse is back, feeling it and she’s a cranking. I had general thoughts on this since end of Final and return to play, bullets I had vomited, maybe a paragraph but it never went anywhere. After I got J’s challenge done, it kind of just poured out in regards to those two kids. This is part of what’s now officially the Orange Blossom verse since I’m fully attached to Tyler and Clementine. 

Guess I need to get a hockey masterlist together now? Cause yeah, more words coming here for them (possibly a NSWF back half to this? maybe?) and on a few other hockey boys. Also, maybe even getting some Shawn words out too? #museisfeelingit

We’re taking off. I finally get to say see you and the boys later and really mean it.

You knew straightaway when the buzzer sounded the other night this was going to be hard, harder than last year for sure. When you talked after, it shattered you hearing him that way. You couldn’t be there and that hurt. You also knew there was more than he was letting on or even telling you, but you weren’t pushing him then; it wasn’t worth it. There’d be a time and place for that.

We’ll be waiting xo

You try to get as much set and ready, at least for the next 48 hours, so you can just both be. Fridge and pantry are full, everything is clean top to bottom inside and out. As you run through the checklist in your head, you feel a heavy head plunk down on your knee with a whine.

“I know buddy, I miss him too. He’s coming home to us right now though. Only a couple more hours,” you scratch behind the golden lab’s ear. “Let me feed you and your crazy brothers so you’re not completely batshit when your Dad gets home.”

As soon as you say Dad, they lose their minds it seems. A raucous feeding and a subsequently needed clean up after of both the kitchen and you, time is closer than you thought. You’re refiling the Brita when you hear the locks clicking open and the telltale plunk of bags hitting the floor. Then he’s there in the doorway between the hall and the kitchen. You just look at him for a moment and truly exhale for the first time since he called after the game, he’s finally home.

“Hi,” you smile, stepping closer to him.

“There’s my babygirl,” Tyler sighs deeply, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around you. “Fuck, I missed you, so damn much Emmy.”

You hold him just as close, nodding into his chest trying not to cry. He drops his head into the crook of your neck and breathes in and out slowly. Your arms wind around his waist as you feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin.

“It’s too quiet…” he starts.

“They’re outside. They were going crazy in the house; I think they could tell from my energy you were coming back,” you explain. “That or it was just another Wednesday.”

He bites a chuckle back, his lips dusting against your neck.

“May need your help with them,” he murmurs against your skin.

“How bad?” you ask, hands sliding up to his face, pulling him away to look straight at you.

He’s tired, it’s all over his face. He just shrugs.

“Tyler…” you start.

“Bad,” he mumbles out, eyes slipping shut as your fingers start looping in his hair sticking out from his hat. “Doc wants me in for scans and testing tomorrow afternoon.  I’m gonna need you to drive me please, J dropped me off because I couldn’t.”

That’s why you didn’t hear the rumbling of an engine or the garage door.

“Where?” you tread lightly.

“Better to ask me where not, Em. You know the knees were acting up before we went into lockdown, but they were better than before when we went back for phase two,” he replies. “Then the hip started at the end of camp here probably from the other shit. I thought we had it under control before we left and the knees were feeling less shitty. I played the one game in round robin. Wasn’t great, but it wasn’t crazy pain and I’ve played through worse. They backed me out for precautions, you know that. Thought the rest and therapy on it would do it.”

“But then?” you probe carefully, knowing he wasn’t letting on how much the bumps and bruises of playoffs were really affecting him when he would call.

“All kind of went to hell from there though and it just unraveled,” he sighs deeply. “Definitely the right hip. Left is tweaked from compensating. Wrist was nagging too. Everything fucking hurt but, I just. I couldn’t let them down, I couldn’t. It’s playoffs. Not when we were pushing and we were that damn close. So fucking close.”

Tyler sniffs and drops his head to your shoulder.

“You have the biggest heart baby; you’d never let them down. They know that. But you need to take care of yourself and not break yourself to the point of disrepair, Tyler. Not good for them or for you, especially if you want to keep on playing,” you say. “Tabling this for now though. Let’s go see the boys, then I think you need some food, a soak and some sleep.”

“You’re forgetting something,” he whispers into your shirt, his hands holding firm at your hips.

“Hmm?” you question.

“You, I most definitely need you, Emmy,” he picks his head up and smirks before leaning into kiss you.

It starts sweet, light even then he presses into it. Tongue swiping and teeth nibbling, it’s warming up quickly. His hands flex tighter, drawing you even closer into him. You can already feel him half hard against you.

“Ty,” you break away, breathless. “Not if…”

“Nope, non-negotiable. We’ll figure out a way. It’s been almost two fucking months,” he utters against your lips before pressing into another kiss, this one quick. “I hear them losing their shit out there. Come on.”

He snags your hand, tangling your fingers together and tugging you towards the French doors to the patio. You can tell immediately in his gait, he’s in a good deal of discomfort. Knowing him, he’s refused anything heavy pain killer wise while he was playing, other than the extra strength Advil he’s only been comfortable taking. Maybe some cortisone if the inflammation wasn’t subsiding and even that would be a push to get him to agree to.

“Don’t even think about getting down on the grass you, I saw the limping,” you chide, pushing him down onto the lounge chair. “They can all attack you from here.”

He pouts, but you just flick his ear, then yank the hat off his head.

“Boys, look who I found for you,” you call out.

Three large dog heads whip around at once and make a break for you two. You back out of the way, giving the labs more than enough room to get up and around the chair. Once the initial may lay of wagging tails, jumping excitement and licking backs down, Gerry ends up on the lounge wedging himself on and between Tyler’s legs as he thinks he’s still tiny, with Cash and Marshall on either side their heads in his lap.

“Who’s the best boys? Did you miss me? I missed you. Were you good for Mom while I was gone?” he asks them, petting them each as they bask in having him back. “You better have taken good care of her. We had an agreement.”

“As good as being in the house with three boys without their dad could be,” you laugh from behind the chair, hands on Tyler’s shoulders. “They were good to cuddle with, especially on game nights.”

“Not as good as me though,” he tips his head back with a cheeky grin.

“Debatable Tyler,” you tease, bopping his nose.

“Hey,” he pouts, lip jutting out.

“You can remind me later,” you murmur, dropping a kiss to his forehead. “You spend some time with the motley crew out here. Don’t you think about running or leaving that chair, really. I’ll get some stuff pulled together in the kitchen. Any requests? I stockpiled on some of your favorites.”

“Did you make your chicken bake?” his eyes light up as he thinks about what to ask for.

“Of course I did, you asked me about that a few times when you were griping about food options,” you grin. “I’ll get that and salad ready. Boys, you need to take it easy with Dad, he’s more broken than he’s willing to admit.”

You head back into the house and into the kitchen. As you’re turning from the oven to start on the salad, you hear the thump of paws first before feeling a plop of a head on your feet.

“Marsh baby, why aren’t you outside with your Daddy?” your eyebrows knit as you look down at the dog.

The dog just huffs and sighs with big eyes looking up at you.

“He’s back now with us buddy,” you wipe your hands on a towel before bending down to pet him. “He’s missed you just as much as you missed him. You’re his first baby. Go love on him some more.”

Marshall just whines again, nudging you to try to make you cuddle with him on the kitchen floor.

“Let me finish this up, then we can all snuggle on the couch ok?” you bargain, heading to the sink to wash your hands before finishing the salad.

He didn’t leave your side as you went on your way to get the meal together, sticking closer than he did when Tyler first left. The bake would be in for a bit longer, so you slide the salad into the fridge just as everyone filters back into the house.

“Your oldest son has abandonment issues,” you call out. “Tyler, you best not. Get your ass on the couch, I’ll pull him over. There’s no rolling on the floor.”

“He’s always been the most sensitive, worse in his old age,” he jokes, sliding an arm around your waist to lean into you.

“He’s not that old, be nice,” you poke at his side. “Marshall just loves you that much. That needs like 20-25 more minutes in the oven. Salad’s done, so it’ll be easy once this is warmed through. Come on; couch, pups and maybe I’ll even let you get handsy.”

Tyler turns you, palms sliding up your hips around to your back to pull you into him. You go easily and willingly.

“Thank you, Emmy,” he says softly, nosing at your temple. “I’m so lucky I get to come home to not only these three but to you too. Means a lot. I love how much you care about those three nutzos in there as much as how much you love me. And I know it’s not easy at times, but I hope you know that without question, I love you. I love you more every damn day and I want to keep showing you that.”

You didn’t expect that. It’s never been a question on your feelings for each other, but it always hits you when Tyler gets into his feelings like that. You don’t even respond with words; you just pop up onto your toes to kiss him.

“Love you too Ty,” you murmur, a breath away from his lips.

As soon as you both settle into the couch, letting him get comfortable first as you saw the grimace when he initially sat down, the dogs fall into place too. Even if it’s only for a short break, it’s nice to feel like things are settling back into a sense of normalcy. You close your eyes and exhale, probably for the first time since they came off the ice after game six.

“Bath after dishes?” you start as you shuffle plates off the table. “No fighting me, you need it. You’re wincing at every other movement. I picked up some eucalyptus soak with Epsom salt, so you won’t smell like my lavender or jasmine.”

“You joining me?” he wiggles his eyebrows, grin as wicked as ever after taking a sip from his glass.

“We’re not fucking in the tub Tyler,” you chide him as you load the dishwasher. “Busted hips do not make for good times with water sports even with as big as that soaker is.”

“Wrecking all my fun,” he sighs with the grin still evident. “But I guess you’re right. If I promise to kind of behave, will you join me?”

You can’t help but scoff a laugh.

“Kind of behave? Shit’s sake. Only you, Tyler,” you swing back around to the table, dusting a kiss to his temple. “Let me go get stuff ready and the water all set in there.”

“Someone needs to make sure I wash behind my ears amongst other places,” he gets cheeky, snagging you to pull you down onto his lap. “No one better than you for that, baby.”

He nips at your ear before nuzzling his face into your neck before tightening his arms around your waist. You’ve missed this, missed him.

“You can distract me all you want, but I’m still not fucking you in that tub,” you laugh, your hands tracing loops and swirls against the black ink over his forearm before trailing down his hands.

“Was at least worth a shot, but I’ll take you wet, naked and full of bubbles in the water with me,” he sighs, biting at your jaw before pushing you off his lap. He takes a swat at your ass as you’re walking away.

“I’ll add bubbles, just for you, since you asked so nicely,” you call out over your shoulder, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Put that away unless you plan on using that, preferably on me,” he shouts back in the midst of laughing.

[miracleonice87]

Make You Feel My Love with Nathan MacKinnon

a Nathan MacKinnon song fic

a/n: season outcome, timing, and stats = totally fake. based on Nate’s public mentions in past interviews of seeing a sports psychologist, which is really inspiring to me. seeking professional advice is a GOOOOD thing! also, wasn’t originally intended to be a song fic, but Adele’s version of Make You Feel My Love (originally by Bob Dylan) came on while I was finishing it up, so I went with it! last note: pretending Tyson never got traded to the Leafs is the best part of writing hockey fanfiction. 🥺

summary: Angry/Sad Nate loses in the playoffs and takes his frustrations out on his girlfriend Sam, who gets comfort and advice from his teammates and friends.

warnings: swearing; isolated, individual outbursts of anger but NO physical violence; mentions of counseling/therapy and the practice of sports psychology (obviously, like I mentioned, this is a good thing but just something to know); crying Nate (I feel like that deserves a warning)

_____

Deflated, I sat in a bulky black chair in the team family room deep in the recesses of the Pepsi Center for several minutes after leaving the wives and girlfriends suite, needing a moment away from prying eyes and cameras to process what had just occurred.

The Avalanche had been one of the highly favored teams in the West all season long, yet had just been swept in the second round of the playoffs. My boyfriend, Nathan MacKinnon, widely regarded as one of the best players in the NHL, had totaled only one point in the 11 playoff games the team had played this year, earning a single assist on a Mikko Rantanen goal.

Needless to say, that hadn’t been sitting right with Nate.

He’d been short with me since the first few games of the postseason; even shorter than he typically got when he was in a drought. I had tried to give him space, but he snapped about the smallest questions I asked or requests I made of him: what he wanted for dinner, or to be sure he called to wish his sister Sarah a happy birthday. He sometimes mumbled an apology in my general direction, but more often than not, he simply left the room in a huff. I tried my best to be patient — to give him space.

It was abundantly clear that the pressure that always loomed heavy over Nathan like a thick, dark cloud had now intensified. I knew, without him ever verbalizing it, that he felt more burdened than ever before to live up to the hype — to the expectations he had for himself, and to those placed on him, either explicitly or implicitly, by the entire hockey community and the media.

When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love

I sat still with my head in my hands for what seemed like forever, until sweet Mel Landeskog, whom I had become so close with over the last four seasons of watching our significant others play together, came and rubbed my back gently through the custom Avs denim jacket that hung on my shoulders. I lifted my head to look at her, a sympathetic smile etched on her beautiful features.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Mel offered. “I know he’s gonna be so hard on himself. But he had such a great season — he needs to be proud of that,” she reasoned. I nodded.

Mel was right. He had had a truly remarkable regular season — he had scored 95 points in 82 games after a enduring a considerable slump for much of the previous year. This year stood in stark contrast to last. He had been riding high for many weeks; that is, until playoffs hit.

I stood to wrap Mel in a hug, appreciative of her gesture of support but unwilling to reflect on Nate’s play right now. “Thank you, Mel,” I told her as I squeezed her tightly. “I’m gonna miss you so much this summer,” I added, gesturing to the car seat on the floor beside her. “And Nate and I will both miss that little one, too,” I said as I blew Linnea a kiss, making her giggle, a welcome sound after a heartbreaking display on the ice. Mel glanced down at her baby daughter, beaming.

“I know, honey. We’ll miss you too. But it won’t be long until we’re all back here together, plus we’ll see each other for a couple of these bachelorette parties and summer weddings and get-togethers, yeah?” she said with a nudge.

“Yeah, that’ll be nice. Until then, you guys be safe,” I told her. With one last hug and quick kisses to each other’s cheeks, Mel picked up Linnea in her seat and exited the room. I realized that she and I had been the last two wives or girlfriends to leave, with most of us having exchanged quiet goodbyes in the suite before making hasty escapes to the parking area to console our respective sad hockey players.

With a groan at the depressing thought, I pulled my jean jacket tighter to my torso and walked slowly out the open door.

When the evening shadows and the stars appear

And there is no one there to dry your tears

I could hold you for a million years

To make you feel my love

The locker room doors stood maybe ten yards down the hall. The usual rambunctious ruckus that so often echoed off the cinderblock walls was tonight exchanged for a thick silence. It seemed that most of the guys had already left, and those who remained were noiseless. I softly greeted a few of the familiar men who made their way out the doors, offering only a sad smile and a few words of comfort to each, knowing that they weren’t in the mood to engage. They were, however, still polite, with several of the players embracing me briefly or kissing my cheek as they left the building.

Gabe Landeskog was among the very last to leave the room, unsurprisingly, as he was ever the responsible and respectable captain. He spotted me immediately and enveloped me in his strong grasp.

“Hi, friend,” I whispered into his shoulder, worried that my voice would break. “Hi, söt flicka,” (sweet girl) he countered.

“I’m sorry, Cap,” I told him quietly. He pulled back and shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Wasn’t our year,” he replied with a shrug. “As you can imagine, Nate is taking it pretty hard...” his voice trailed off. “I just want you to be prepared,” he finally added, carefully.

My stomach knotted. I tucked some of my hair behind my ear and swiftly licked my lips, feeling anxiety pool in my gut.

Gabe placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Just remember it’s not you he’s upset with. It’s himself,” he said softly. I quickly glanced up at him and nodded. “Thank you,” I choked out. “Now you better get going. You’ve got two beautiful girls waiting for you,” I told him, feigning a bright grin. He tried to mirror my expression, but fell short. It was unnatural to see such sadness in his normally joyful visage. He squeezed my upper arm.

“That I do,” Gabe agreed. “We’ll see you soon, Sam.”

“Okay,” I whispered. “Bye, Cap.” He gave a solemn nod and disappeared down the hallway.

My unease only multiplied after my exchange with Gabe. I began to pace slowly in a circle. I jumped a few moments later when the door flew open with a screech, Nate emerging from behind it, a bitter, dark expression on his face.

I greeted him softly, tentatively, reaching a hand toward him.

“Nate, baby, I —“

My boyfriend brushed past me in a flash, causing a literal draft of air to hit me as he held up his hand, never even making eye contact with me as he practically stomped down the corridor.

My blood ran hot — how dare he not acknowledge my presence after I had attended how many home games, and even road games, supporting him and cheering him on, no matter what? And that was just this season — what about the three prior? Why was he shutting me out? My heart thumped against my ribcage.

“Nathan,” I called, my voice firm this time, whipping around to face his back and then fumbling with the chain of my Louis Vuitton bag as it fell from my shoulder. Discombobulated, I threaded it back over my arm clumsily and took two hurried steps in Nate’s direction, but he was already out of sight.

Just then, I noticed our close friend Tyson Barrie standing a few feet behind me. I could infer from the way he was approaching me gingerly, which was highly unlike him, that he had witnessed our exchange, or the lack thereof. I sighed and pressed a hand to my forehead, his hand coming to grip my other elbow.

“Sam, sweetheart... you okay?” Tyson asked softly. Hot tears pricked my eyelids, but I refused to let them fall, blinking them back with a sniffle. My hand fell back to my side — I was shaking now.

“I knew he would be mad...” I began. “But what the fuck, Tys?” My voice wavered.

Tyson instinctively pulled my waist to his side, giving me a quick, protective kiss to the temple, before pulling away and offering me his hand.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” he volunteered. With another sniff, I shook my head. “No, it’s okay, Tys. I drove, thank god,” I spat. “Besides, you’re dealing with the same disappointment. You need to go home with Em and unwind,” I insisted, smoothing one hand over his suit jacket. His head dropped and he offered a weak nod.

“I guess. But listen, if he’s still not acting right, call me, okay? You know you can come over. You’re always welcome, especially when he’s being such an ass,” Tyson said, the end of his sentence turning into a growl. We both sighed; I nodded.

“Thanks, Tys. I’ll let you know. And listen, I’m sorry... about tonight. I know it hurts,” I told him, hugging his neck with one arm. He spread his fingers over my back and gave me a squeeze before stepping back to look into my eyes.

“It’s just hockey,” he said quietly. I smiled weakly and nodded once. “Bye, Sam. See you soon,” he said, rubbing one hand over my shoulder as he turned and made his way down the hall to find Emma.

If only Nathan shared his friend’s logic and sentiment.

I dropped my head back at the thought, tears once again collecting in my eyes. I forced them closed in an attempt to stay composed. With another sigh, I slowly started toward the private parking garage where my vehicle waited.

Unsurprisingly, as I stepped through the glass door and into the garage where I spotted my Audi, the spot next to me where Nate’s Porsche had been was empty. I unlocked my car, tossed my bag and scarf into the passenger side, and slammed my door shut before giving the steering wheel two firm bangs with the palm of my hand. My body still hadn’t stopped trembling.

I'd go hungry; I'd go black and blue

I'd go crawling down the avenue

No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do

To make you feel my love

I rested my forehead against the leather steering wheel for a moment before drawing a breath and finally backing out of my spot and exiting the garage, apprehensive of the scene I might find at the condo Nathan and I shared.

_____

I stepped through the front door tentatively, chewing on the inside of my lip. I was careful not to make a sound, walking on tiptoes to avoid clicking my heeled boots on the white tile floor. I dropped my purse onto the table in the entryway and reached to hang up my keys on the rack by the closet when I heard the distinct sound of glass — a lot of glass — shattering.

I froze.

The plans I had formulated in my head during my drive to confront Nate as soon as I arrived home suddenly seemed too unnerving to carry out.

My knees were nearly knocking together as I zipped through the living room and tucked myself behind the wet bar in one corner of the room. I hid myself in a partially-enclosed area where the wine and beer fridge stood, then felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I fumbled to answer it, not wanting to make too much noise.

Sidney Crosby, the onscreen caller ID read. I tapped the green button.

“Hello?” I was caught off guard by how frightened my own voice sounded as I answered.

“Sam, hi. Are you home?” Sid’s usually calm and collected tone was now bathed in concern.

“Hi, Sid. Yeah, I just got home. He’s, uh... it’s not good,” I said quietly, glancing at the staircase as I heard another thud upstairs, this time what sounded like a pair of shoes against Nate’s closet wall. On the other end of the call, Sid heaved a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, I figured,” he said tensely. “I tried calling him thinking I might catch him on his way home and talk him down a bit, but he ignored my call. I’m sorry, Sam. Are you alright?”

I glanced down at my free hand which rested on the oak wood of the bar. I was still trembling, my fears of coming home to chaos having been realized.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I choked out, lying through my teeth. “It’s just hard to watch.”

A deep hum of understanding came from Sid’s throat. “I bet. Have you talked to him?”

I shook my head, despite the fact that Sid was nowhere nearby to see the gesture. “No,” I vocalized weakly. “He uh... he kinda... he didn’t wanna talk to me at the arena... I don’t think.” I fiddled with my promise ring on my left hand as I made the admission. It didn’t even sound like Sid was breathing on the other end of the line.

“You’re telling me he blew you off?” he asked gruffly. I could envision Sidney running a hand over his face before gripping his neat curls atop his dark hair, as he often did when frustrated. I opened my mouth to confirm, but couldn’t actually bring myself to do so, knowing what his reaction would be. I also didn’t want to confess to the commotion I had just heard upstairs, knowing that it would further upset my concerned friend, on my behalf. Instead, I let my silence do the talking.

“Goddammit, Sam,” he growled. “I’m so sorry. He’s young. He- he... I used to do this shit, too,” Sidney admitted with a quick breath. “It’s bullshit. He’s just angry with himself and he’s taking it out on you and it’s not fair. I had hoped I had set a better example about how to deal with these things when they happen... but apparently not.”

A couple of hot tears fell to my face as I responded. “This isn’t your fault, Sid.” He retorted immediately, “Well, it’s sure as hell not yours, either.”

We both sat in contemplation for several moments, neither sure of the next step to take. Then, Sid decided.

“I won’t call him again because he needs to talk to you first. But I am going to text him and urge him that he needs to let you in,” Sid insisted. “He needs to let somebody in,” he repeated. “And it needs to be you first.”

More tears were falling now, and I glanced up at the chandelier overhead and pulled my phone from my ear for a beat to try and settle myself. I wiped at my face with the bottom of my thumb.

“Okay,” I finally whispered. I hadn’t ever really cried around Sid, and while he was one of the nicest and most genuine human beings on the planet, I knew he wasn’t quite accustomed to emotional encounters like this one, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by letting him hear the sobs that were bubbling up in my chest.

“It might not feel like it right now,” Sid broached, speaking in a soothing tone reminiscent of my father’s or brother’s when trying to console me. “But you’re right where you need to be. So is he. He needs you, Sam.”

I've known it from the moment that we met

No doubt in my mind where you belong

“Sam?” Nate suddenly called out from the balcony above me, his voice not sounding heated, but doleful instead. From where he stood upstairs, he couldn’t see me.

“Was that him?” Sid asked. “Yeah,” I said softly, somewhat in response to both men. “Good. He’s coming around. Trust me. I’ll let you go. Text me later, eh?” Sid requested, sounding slightly relieved. “Yeah, I will. Promise. Thank you. Bye,” I said hurriedly before ending the call.

“Sam?” Nate’s voice echoed off the walls once more, sounding desperate this time. My pulse quickened.

“Yeah. I’m coming,” I said softly. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, took a steadying breath, and turned to walk upstairs and face him.

By the time I arrived on the second floor only a handful of moments later, Nate was already back in our bedroom, seated in the oversized Queen Anne chair near the center of the room, elbows on his knees, chin almost to his chest. I was shocked to hear small sobs escaping his lips. He glanced in my general direction, not meeting my eyes, and cried harder.

“I can’t even look at you right now,” Nate finally spoke, somewhat coarsely. My heart seemed to shatter right then, and I felt my body steel in self-defense, preparing for war.

“I can’t even believe how I treated you back there. I’m such an awful fucking human. I’m a monster. I’m so sorry,” Nate added tearfully, catching me off guard.

The storms are raging on the rolling sea

And on the highway of regret

The winds of change are blowing wild and free

You ain't seen nothing like me yet

I immediately let out three sobs that seemed to have been lodged in my throat for almost an hour now and, in an instant, closed the gap between us. I dropped to my knees in front of him and laid my head in his lap, hugging his calves. Never before had we shared such an intensely emotional moment. Above me, he covered his eyes with his hands and drew shallow, gasping breaths in an unsuccessful attempt to calm himself.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he cried, not touching me of his own accord. “I’m so sorry.” I picked up my head and looked at him, urgency coursing through my veins. I needed him to come back to me.

“Nathan, baby, hey,” I coaxed, rubbing his big thigh with my hand, which looked so small in comparison. “Look at me. Please? I need you to.”

After a beat, Nate finally lifted his head from his hands, his pale skin slightly splotchy and tinted red, blue eyes shimmering behind more tears that threatened to fall.

“There’s my handsome man,” I said softly, combing my fingers through the neat hair near his ears, watching him slowly return to me.

“Hey, I want you to listen to me, okay? Tonight you’re allowed to cry it out, or punch our pillows, or run on the treadmill all night to blow off some steam. And then I’ll give you a couple more days to swallow this. But after that? We’re gonna check in with Dr. Butler, both of us, so she can give us some ways to cope with this.”

Nate’s shuddering breaths had finally started to slow as I spoke, referencing one of his most trusted allies, the Denver-based sports psychologist he had been seeing now for a few seasons to help him deal with not only hockey-related challenges and mental blocks, but also general anxiety, in order to boost his mental health. I was careful not to allow my tone to come across as if I were babying him, but instead offering comfort and, more importantly, suggesting help. “Because tonight? These last couple weeks? This can’t be it. We can’t deal with things this way. I don’t want you shutting me out, or Sid, or your family, okay? You wouldn’t let me do that — I’m not gonna let you,” I added.

Nate nodded quickly. “Absolutely, babe. I was just gonna say, as soon as I heard you on the phone downstairs, it really just hit me. I realized I needed to text her and set up an appointment,” he told me, his voice no longer shaky. “And that I needed to apologize to you,” he added softly. I nodded, and he grabbed my hands, pulling me to my feet and then back down to lie in his lap. I threw my legs over one arm of the chair and settled against his chest.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to find comfort in Nate’s heartbeat for a moment, as he pressed soft kisses into my hair, before I looked around the room, assessing the damage. I noticed that his suit coat lay crumpled in the middle of his closet floor, his shoes having bounced off the wall there as I suspected, and they sat out of place atop his neatly assembled collection of footwear. Across from us, I noticed the source of the shattered glass — a shadow box display from Nate’s unforgettable rookie season hung just slightly crooked on the wall, the glass in the front completely broken out, save for the shards along the inner edge of the frame.

Nate followed my gaze to the mess and sighed. “I’m really sorry about that, Sam,” he said, shame creeping into his tone. I nodded knowingly. “What did you throw?” I asked. “That puck they gave me from the last game of the regular season. It was on my dresser when I set my wallet down and it just set me off,” he admitted sheepishly. “It was stupid.”

“Yes, it was stupid to break something that’s valuable to you, but it’s not stupid, what you’re feeling,” I told him firmly. “Besides, we’ll get a new glass panel and it’ll be good as new.” His grip around me tightened, appreciative of my response. “Thank you,” Nate whispered into my ear. I turned to kiss his lips slowly and deeply. He finally pulled back, only to murmur, “I don’t deserve you. I’m so grateful I have you.” I smoothed my thumb across his cheekbone. “I’m always going to be here for you, Nate,” I promised. He gave me one more solemn kiss.

“Listen, I’m gonna carry you into the bathroom so you don’t even get close to any shards of glass, and I’ll clean all this up while you run us a bath,” Nate told me. “I’ll join you soon. I think it’ll be good for both of us, eh?” I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck as he easily picked me up bridal-style and headed toward the en suite.

Things were far from perfect, but I was prepared to do everything in my power to get us as close as possible. From the change in his demeanor, I knew Nate was, too.

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true

Nothing that I wouldn't do

Go to the ends of the Earth for you

To make you feel my love

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Shotgun - m. tkachuk

And here is 8.7k of a road trip with Matthew Tkachuk, which honestly, is the real dream. Let me know what you think of it, reblog (I love looking at tags!!) and pop into my inbox if you’d like!

Wine pairing from someone with zero authority on the subject: a nice brut rosé - crisp, fruity, bubbly. Plus, I like the vibes. 

It all started with a text. What are the chances you can get the week after next off? Matthew had sent. Madison’s brow furrowed. Doubtful, but I can try. Are you going to tell me what this is about? There was a week left in the season before playoffs started, and with the points spread in the Pacific being what it was, the matchups were all but locked in. It took less than a minute to get a response. No :) I’ll let you know once you get an answer. She got approved for the time off two days later. Her phone rang as soon as she texted him the news. “How do you feel about road trips?”

---

Maddy had met Matthew about a little over a year prior, soon after she moved to Calgary from her hometown of Toronto. Having finished her first week of work as a computer programmer, there was nothing Madison wanted more than to let loose and enjoy a few drinks with her friends. She was sharing a two-bedroom with her best friend Emily, who Maddy would swear up and down was the sunniest, warmest, most kind person she’d ever met. Not like Maddy wasn’t a nice person — she was — but where her idea of relaxing meant going out bouldering, or camping, or a last-minute road trip, Emily was more of a homebody. 

But going out meant going out, and so Emily was happily dragged along to a bar downtown; which one, she couldn’t really say. Madison walked up to the bar as soon as they entered, catching the bartender’s eye and ordering a Tom Collins. She tapped her fingers on the counter as she waited, glancing around the room. It was ten o’clock on a Friday night, so it was plenty packed. “What are you getting?” Madison asked Emily curiously. 

She held up her Molson. “I’m a woman of simple tastes. Plus, I didn’t feel like waiting around for the bartender to actually make me a drink,” Emily added dryly. 

Maddy rolled her eyes. “What’s the point of going out to a bar when you’re just going to be drinking something you could get at the liquor store?” Emily stuck her tongue out. The bartender slid Maddy’s glass over, taking her card and swiping it through quickly. “Thank you!” she chirped, whipping around to head over and snag a free table she had seen a few minutes before. 

She never ended up getting to the table. Instead, she ran straight into 6 feet, 2 inches of pure Midwestern beef. “Woah!” Matthew said, steadying her as she watched her glass fall to the floor, thankfully not breaking but absolutely spilling its entire contents over the wood. “You good?” 

Madison nodded, grabbing a rag from the bartender. Matthew followed suit, joining her on the floor. “Got a little on my shoes, but it’ll be fine. They won’t stain.”

Matthew nodded, giving a final wipe before taking her rag and handing both back over the counter. “Did me spilling your drink all over you ruin my chances of getting your name?”

“Madison St. Pierre,” she said, laughing and sticking out a hand for him to shake. 

“Matthew Tkachuk, but—”

Maddy cut him off. “I probably already know that?” Matthew ducked his head sheepishly. “I may be a long-suffering Leafs fan, but I don’t live under a rock.”

He took a sip of his beer, leaning up against the bar. “Not from around here, eh?”

Maddy shook her head. “Just moved a couple weeks ago. I’m from Toronto, moved here for a job. I do computer programming,” she said by way of explanation. 

“A smart girl.”

She tilted her head. “You could say that.”

“Well,” he said, “I feel bad about spilling your drink on you, let me buy you another.” 

Maddy laughed. “If you insist. It’s really the least you could do.”

Matthew nodded at the bartender, ordering her another Tom Collins and putting it on his tab. “You and your friend are more than welcome to join us,” he gestured behind him to where the rest of his group was sitting, “we were playing a drinking game and could use a few more players anyway.”

And that was how Matthew met Maddy. 

---

Day 1 

Ten days later, Madison was hefting her duffel bag into the trunk of her Nissan. It was 7:00 on a Tuesday. Normally on a day off she’d be taking advantage of every possible minute of sleep she could get, but lines to cross the border could be long and they wanted to get to Montana by lunch. She waved goodbye to Emily, hopping in the driver’s seat and starting the engine. Matthew had initially suggested they just get a rental car, since it would save Maddy the 20-hour drive back. But a quick Google search let them know that the chances of finding a company willing to let them drop off a Canadian car in Nevada were slim to none. Plus, Maddy had always liked driving, so it wasn’t really an issue for her. They weren’t going to be alone on the trip; Matthew had invited Elias and Rasmus along. She felt a little bit like a school bus driver, stopping at Elias’s complex to pick him up, then Rasmus’ condo, finally pulling into the underground lot of Matthew’s apartment building. Holding one hand up in greeting, he wheeled his suitcases over to her car.

Maddy unblocked her seatbelt, hopping out to help him. “Why on earth did you need so many bags?” she huffed, turning one on its side and wedging it in between hers and Elias’s. 

He shrugged. “I’ve got a bag for the trip, a bag of actual clothes and workout stuff for the series, and the suit bag.” He hung the offending article on a hook. “Did you think I’d be able to set my vanity aside for a whole four days?”

“I should have known that would be too much to ask.”

Matty threw his head back, laughing. “Anyone ever told you how funny you are, Mads?”

“Once or twice, Ratthew,” she said, slamming the door shut. 

Maddy hopped back in the driver’s seat, jamming the key in the ignition and turning the engine on. “Next stop, boys, is America.”

---

Well technically, the next stop was a gas station off of Highway 2, about twenty minutes from the border. “Wait, wait,” Matthew said, a conspiratorial grin on his face as Madison took the pump out of the gas tank. 

She raised one eyebrow. “What?”

He made grabby hands at her keys. “Let me drive.”

“Why?” Madison asked. “I’ve been driving for like what, two hours? I’m not tired yet.”

“I’m the only American in the car.”

Maddy put the pump back. “And?”

Matthew looked sheepish. “Someone said that the border patrol officers will tell Americans ‘welcome home’ when they’re coming back. It’s never happened to me flying so I wanted to see if it would be different in a car.”

“If it means that much to you?” she said, tossing the keys over the hood of the car. Matthew caught them. Maddy rounded the back of the car before she could see him ducking his head, blushing. 

They arrived at the Piegan/Carway crossing shortly after. With exactly zero cars in front of them, Matthew pulled straight up to the booth. 

“Purpose of your visit?” the officer said, looking into the driver’s side. 

“Three of us play hockey, we’re road tripping down to Las Vegas before our playoff series starts in a few days,” Matty answered easily. 

He nodded. “And how long will you be in the States for?”

It was clear either this man had never watched a series of professional sports in his life, or he was just following a standard script. “Depends?” Matthew said, fully aware of how questionable that sounded. 

Maddy piped up from the passenger seat. “I’m driving the car back, so I’ll be back in eight days.”

“Right,” Matthew nodded, “But this trip to the US, we’ll be back in seven days. We’re flying back on the team plane, so it’s not a land crossing.” He decided to forego mentioning that, barring a sweep, they’d be back again in two weeks.

The poor officer looked bewildered. “Team plane?”

Matty shrugged his shoulders. “We play for the Calgary Flames, the team charters a plane to fly us from Calgary to wherever we’re playing and back. We decided to take the scenic route this time.” 

“Okay,” he said, but Madison still wasn’t convinced he actually understood what Matty was saying. If the border officer thought anything of the American, Canadian, and Swedish passports he was handed, he didn’t say anything. Giving a cursory glance, he handed them back. “Welcome back,” he nodded to Matthew, waving the car through the gate. Matthew pumped his fist.

---

An hour later, Matthew pulled into a dirt parking lot on the edge of Glacier National Park. “WE MADE IT!” he exclaimed, putting the car in park and throwing his hands up. 

“We drove three hours,” Elias said from the back seat. 

“And?” Matty challenged, opening the door. 

Maddy grabbed her backpack, stuffed with sandwiches and snacks that they had gotten on their way in. “If you guys brought hiking boots or good tennis shoes, now’s the time,” she said, lacing up her own boots. “There’s a loop around here that’s a little under four miles long, doesn’t sound like it’s too difficult but there is some elevation climb, so better safe than sorry.” People typically didn’t peg her for it, but Maddy was a very outdoorsy person at heart. She had taken up rock climbing in high school, and was a regular at the bouldering gyms back in Toronto until she moved. She’d found a climbing gym she liked well enough in Calgary, but with Banff just over an hour away from the city, the park had become her go-to for climbing and hiking. Matty had come with her on more than one occasion, and had surprised her with a long weekend camping for her birthday in March. The snow hadn’t all melted yet, and waking up to the powder-dusted fir trees outside of their tent had been one of the most beautiful sights of her life. 

“Everyone’s got a full water bottle?” she asked, tying up her hair. The last thing anyone wanted was to get heatstroke in one of the most remote parts of the park with only one phone that could even connect to an American cell tower. 

The group started off at a leisurely pace, wandering off-trail to check out anything and everything that caught their interest. The edge of the St. Mary Valley served as the perfect backdrop for lunch, Maddy pulling the sandwiches out from her bag and doling them out. “Oh thank God, I’m starving,” Elias said, grabbing his food from Maddy practically before she even had it in her hand. 

“Did you not have breakfast?” she asked incredulously. 

He nodded. “I did, but I’m still hungry. Should have brought snacks.” Off to his side, Matty snickered. 

 Day 2

Elias had volunteered to take over from Matthew to drive through the night, switching off sometime around sunrise with Rasmus. “I 100% have a crick in my neck,” Maddy grimaced, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and checking her phone. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Matthew smiled. Maddy groaned, leaning into his side. Almost instinctively, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle, taking a few gulps before setting it back down on the floor of the car, where it promptly rolled away. 

“Who do I have to blow to get a decent cup of coffee around here?” Maddy groaned. Matthew almost choked on his water. He had to get his mind off of the idea of Maddy blowing anything or he was about to have an issue. He pulled out his phone, jumping on Google maps. 

“There’s a little coffee shop a few miles ahead, off of the Spruce Drive exit?” he asked tentatively. 

She yawned. “As long as they sell caffeine, I’m game.” They did indeed sell caffeine, and after inhaling two cappuchinos and a small mountain of pastries later, Maddy hopped back behind the wheel. “You sure bear claws and muffins are on the meal plan, boys?” she asked, a smile playing on the corner of her lips. 

Rasmus waved her off. “It’s not like you’re going to rat us out, are you?” 

She shrugged, wiggling her phone in her hand as she pulled up at a stoplight. “Bold of you to assume I don’t have Coach’s number in my phone.”

Matty plucked her phone from her hand, placing it back by the center console. “Be that as it may, sweet Madison, you neglect to remember that I’m the only one with coverage in the U.S.” He might not strike most people as a particularly sentimental person, but Matthew loved his family, and decided that the extra charge was well worth being able to call his parents and sister whenever he was missing them. 

She stuck her tongue out at Matthew. “You ruin all of my fun, you know that?” All he did was grin. The drive to Mesa Falls wasn’t long at all, they had just finished their food — Matty popping bites of muffin into Madison’s mouth as she drove — when she pulled over to the curb by the sign. Maddy threw the boys’ backpacks to them, pointing to the single bathroom stall in the tiny rest area. “Go change, I’ll use the car.”

“Why can’t we have the car?” Matthew complained.

She looked at him. “Three full-grown men, all over six feet, in one car. I know you see each other’s dicks all day in the locker room, but I’d really rather not have that in my car. Think.”

Matty made an “o” with his mouth. “Gotcha.”

Swim trunks were much easier to get on than a wrap bikini, Madison was finding, and the boys were finished changing well before she was done figuring out her top. She bit her lip, poking her head out of the door. “Matty?” 

He turned around, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

“Could you help me tie this?” she asked, gesturing to the halter top. “I think it’s stuck or something.”

Matthew swallowed hard, his eyes widening as he tried to stutter through a sentence. “Uh, yeah. I can do that. For sure,” he said, shuffling over to the car. He gently untwisted the straps, gathering them into a bow at the base of her neck and trying very, very hard to not think about how soft her skin felt underneath his fingers. This was one of his best friends. And best friends weren’t supposed to think about that kind of stuff. Right?

Behind them, Elias and Rasmus shared a glance. They had expected something was going on between them, really ever since the party in November, but this was something new. They had never seen Matthew gone this far for a girl before. And they liked this side of him. 

“Thanks,” she said, squeezing his shoulder before disappearing back into the car to throw on a coverup. “How long is the walk to the actual waterfalls?”

“Not long,” Elias responded. “Ten minutes or so?” It was an easy walk to the falls, which were mercifully empty when they got there. They kicked off their sandals, leaving the bags under a nearby bush. Matthew knew Madison was pretty. She wasn’t a nun and he wasn’t a saint; she had seen him shirtless more times than he could count and he had seen her come out of his guest room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt of his after she stayed the night. His thoughts hadn’t exactly been innocent. But as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, leaving her clad only in that damn red bikini, he was convinced he���d never seen a more gorgeous sight. 

She turned around just as Matthew tore his eyes away, looking mischievously at him. “Last one in?” They sprinted to the water. Matty let her win. 

---

About half of their stops had been planned in advance; the others were pulled from websites or Google suggestions or whatever their waitress’ recommendation was for a local must-see. The Idaho Potato Museum fell into the latter category. Rasmus had floated the idea shortly after they had left Mesa Falls, and seeing as how nobody had anything better to suggest, they ran with it. 

“Free taters for out of staters,” Matthew said, reading off of the pamphlet they had been handed at the welcome desk. 

“Will they give me extra since I’m Canadian?” Madison wondered aloud. “For all intents and purposes they think you live in Missouri, Matty.” The nickname rolled off her tongue so easily, she didn’t even think twice. 

He passed the paper to her, the tips of their fingers barely brushing together, but Matthew could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. “Don’t get greedy, Mads.” They walked down a dimly-lit hallway lined with black-and-white photos. 

“Did you know that the first potatoes grown in the United States were planted in Londonderry, New Hampshire, by Scotch-Irish immigrants?” Elias read off of a placard, his voice sounding like a disinterested radio announcer. 

Maddy shook her head. “I didn’t, thank you so much for imparting on me this most important knowledge, Elias.”

“My pleasure,” he replied. 

“Did you know that you could survive off of a diet of only potatoes and butter?” Rasmus chimed in, reading another sign. 

“Really?” Matthew asked, leaning in to read. He turned to Madison a moment later. “Really, apparently.”

Half an hour of wandering later, Matthew and Madison had stumbled into the “artifacts” portion of the museum. “What kind of artifacts does a potato museum have?” Maddy asked, looking supremely confused. 

Matthew wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Why don’t we see?” For some reason, he decided it would be a good idea to hold his hand out for her. And for some reason, Maddy took it. 

The “artifacts” turned out to consist of some old farm tools, dusty burlap sacks, and the world’s largest potato chip. Elias and Ramsus were on the other side of the museum, leaving Matthew and Madison to drift through alone. “Crisp, actually,” Matthew said, reading the card under the glass case. “Because I guess they’re worried about people stealing it?”

“There’s a difference?”

He shrugged. “Apparently it’s only a chip if it’s a slice of potato. This was made from dehydrated potato flakes, or something like that.” Maddy wasn’t sure if it was the sepia-tinted lighting, or the lingering memory of how Matty’s fingertips burned like fire against her back as he tied her bikini, or if there was something particularly romantic about dehydrated potato flakes, but they were alone in the room and suddenly she was looking at him a little bit differently. Matthew looked at her, gaze soft as his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly down towards her lips. Her lips. His body leaned in, and just as she closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers, wondering if they were really going to do this in the middle of the Idaho fucking Potato Museum—

“We were wondering where you guys had gone off to!” Elias’s Swedish accent cut through the silence. Matthew threw his head back, silently cursing his teammate’s timing. If Elias and Rasmus realized anything was off, they didn’t say. “The lady at the front said it’s closing in ten minutes, so we thought we should head out and get something to eat.”

Maddy nodded in agreement, her cheeks burning. “Sounds good. I could go for some food.” They made their way back outside, Matthew settling behind the wheel as he steered the car back onto the highway. He tried to shake the almost-kiss from his mind, but the more he tried to forget it, the more the memory stuck. 

Elias looked down at his phone. “Yelp says there’s an Indian place coming up on the left if that sounds good to you guys,” he said, shaking Matthew from his thoughts. 

Maddy scrunched her nose. “All due respect, I don’t trust this town to make good Indian food. Potatoes, burgers, meat, sure. I buy it. But I haven’t seen a single person of color since we left Glacier.” 

“Fair.” 

The burgers were good; nothing to write home about, but Maddy was honestly thrilled to eat something that didn’t come out of a bag. The plan had originally been to drive through the night again to reach Salt Lake City by the early morning, but Maddy made it clear her back didn’t take too well to sleeping in the car, and the others agreed. “Rasmus, mind finding a hotel nearby? Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just somewhere not too far off of the freeway,” Madison asked. He nodded, pulling out his phone. They had gotten tired of passing around Matthew’s phone anytime they were out of Wifi range, so after a little complaining and one of Maddy’s puppy-dog eye looks, he finally relented and turned his hotspot on. 

“There’s a Holiday Inn up off of the next exit if that sounds good to you guys,” Rasmus said. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the Post Malone song that Matty had plugged in. They switched the aux every few hours. 

“Yeah, works for me.” Madison hummed her agreement; Matty nodded. Rasmus flicked on the blinkers, gently cruising down the offramp, pulling into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn about half a mile down the road. 

Madison bit the inside of her cheek. “They’re going to have rooms available, yeah?” 

“Mads, it’s May in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. I don’t exactly think they’ve got business lining up out the door.” Matty said, looking at her from the side as they walked into the hotel lobby. 

The whole trip was Matthew’s idea, so he insisted on footing the bill, handing his credit card and license over to the receptionist. Maddy snickered behind her hand. Matthew turned back to look at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly. “Something you’d like to share with the class, Madison?”

“Missouri licenses look weird,” she commented.

“And Alberta’s any better?”

She scrunched her nose. “We have a dinosaur on ours. Beat that.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” Matty said, the corner of his lip twitching as he thanked the receptionist, tucking the cards back into his wallet. She handed over the room keys, Matthew passing two to Rasmus and Elias and one to Maddy. “I had us together, if you don’t mind.” 

Madison shook her head. “Fine with me.” It wasn’t unusual for her to stay over at Matthew’s apartment, either after going out or when their movie nights ran a little long and she woke up to Matty tucking her into the bed in his guest room. She had a toothbrush in his bathroom, a change of clothes in the dresser. She had offered to take her stuff back a few months ago, not wanting any girl he might bring over to get the wrong idea. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he had said when she asked, waving her off. Though, come to think of it, he hadn’t brought any girl home — that she knew about — since sometime around the beginning of the year. 

They waved goodbye to Rasmus and Elias, promising to wake up bright and early to get the first crack at the breakfast buffet when it opened at 7. Matty swiped his card, holding the door open when the light turned green and the knob twisted. “After you, m’lady.” 

“Why thank you, good sir,” Maddy giggled, ducking under his arm into the entryway. She stopped at the end of the hall, eyes flickering into the room. 

Matthew stopped behind her. “What’s up?”

“There’s only one bed.”

His head jerked around the corner, not like he doubted her word or anything, but he needed to see it for himself. There was only one bed. One big bed, one very comfortable-looking bed, but one bed. Matty dropped his bag on the floor. “Uh...D’you want me to call down? I can see if they’ve got another room if that would make you more comfortable.”

Madison pursed her lips for a second before shaking her head. “No, it’s fine. We’re adults, we can share a bed without burning the house down.” It wasn’t like Maddy was lying for Matthew’s sake; she really was fine with it. Maybe a little too fine. But they had slept together — in the innocent sense of the word — before, and everything had turned out okay. His arm draped over her shoulder as she cuddled into his shoulder on a late night, her legs tangled in his when some of his friends from St. Louis were visiting for the weekend and took the guest room. He had offered to take the couch that night, but Maddy didn’t want to relegate him to a night of back cramps and drafty breezes, especially when he had an early practice the next day. Nobody ever made it weird, so it wasn’t weird. 

She took her bundle of clothes into the shower, relishing in the feeling of hot water raining down on her aching muscles. Maddy was loving the trip, genuinely, but being in a car for twelve hours out of the day took something out of a person. Slipping into an old college t-shirt, Madison thought for a moment about putting on a pair of sweats. It wasn’t particularly cold — the opposite, in fact — but she didn’t know if it would make Matthew feel weird if she wasn’t wearing pants. Fuck it, she thought, pulling up her boyshorts. If he had an issue with it, it was his problem. Throwing her hair up in a towel to dry, she turned the doorknob, poking her head out the door. “Shower’s open if you wanted to hop in,” she said.

Matty nodded, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I shouldn’t be too long, why don’t you find something for us to watch?” he asked, tossing her the remote. It wasn’t quite nine o’clock, and while she was tired, Maddy knew if she tried to go to sleep she’d wake up well before dawn, and that wasn’t something anyone wanted. Madison climbed up onto the bed, tucking her feet underneath her and grabbed the channel guide. True to his word, Matthew was in and out in under ten minutes, rubbing his hair with a towel as he walked out. Athletic shorts. Shirtless. Maddy couldn’t help but give him the once-over, having to jerk her eyes back up to his face the moment she realized what she was doing. Matthew met her eyes, the ghost of a smirk playing on his face. “I can put a shirt on if you’d like…”

“No! You’re good,” Maddy replied, maybe a little too quickly to avoid suspicion. 

He ducked back into the bathroom, throwing the towel over the shower curtain. “So, what did you settle on?”

She looked back at the TV. “Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives?”

Matty jumped onto the bed. “Guy Fieri. What a legend. Awesome. Where’s he going?”

Three and a half episodes later, it was almost eleven, and Madison’s eyes were starting to droop. Sometime midway through the second episode, when Guy was visiting an Asian fusion restaurant in Colorado, her head had drifted onto Matthew’s shoulder, where it had stayed ever since. His arm wrapped loosely around her, Matty brought his hand up to brush away a stray piece of hair that had drifted into her face. “Getting sleepy, Mads?”

She yawned, nodding and trying to push herself up. “‘M looking forward to a good night’s sleep in an actual bed.”

Matthew laughed softly. “Let’s get you in bed, then.” He threw back the comforter, Madison crawling under, and reached over to the nightstand, turning off the lamps and TV. “Give me your phone,” he said. 

“Why?” Maddy asked, her brow furrowing. 

“You always forget to charge it overnight, and I don’t want you to be grumpy when it dies at 10 AM.” She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a concession, handing over her iPhone. Matty plugged it in, clambering beneath the sheets. “Sweet dreams, Mads. Good night.”

“Night, Matty.”

 Day 3

 The first thing Madison noticed when she woke up was the warm, unfamiliar weight slung around her waist. It took her a moment to realize that it was Matty’s arm, who hadn’t woken up yet. For some reason that she couldn’t quite identify, or maybe didn’t want to confront quite yet, it wasn’t unwelcome at all, and she savored the last few minutes of physical closeness before he woke up. And he did, wake up, that is. His cheeks reddened as he opened his eyes, pulling his arm away to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

Maddy ducked her head. “Nothing to be sorry about. I didn’t mind.”

Matthew yawned. “What time is it?”

“Uh, just before seven,” she said, rolling over to look at the alarm clock. “I’d love to stay in bed a little longer, but we did promise the boys we’d meet them down at breakfast soon.”

He nodded, making a very concerted effort to not read into her statements any more than he absolutely had to. “Yeah, good idea,” he said, tossing the covers off and walking into the bathroom. “I’ll sit on you if you’re not up by the time I get back out there.” Maddy took the opportunity to change, threading a belt through her jeans and half-tucking a t-shirt. “I like the look,” he said when he walked out, as Maddy was twisting her hair up into a bun. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Matthew to compliment her; she had accompanied him to more than one charity event for the Flames as his date, but she had always been dressed up. Dress, heels, makeup that she probably stressed way too much over. Dressed to the nines, never in jeans and a t-shirt before. But she didn’t really notice, the compliment meaning just as much to her as if she’d been in a floor-length gown. 

“Thanks,” she said, stuffing her clothes from the night before back into her duffel. “I packed the rest of your bag while you were in there, figured I might as well.”

It was Matty’s turn to thank her, squeezing her hand appreciatively before giving the room a quick look. “We didn’t forget anything, then?”

Madison laughed. “We really didn’t stay long enough to unpack, but yeah, we’ve got everything, don’t worry.”

---

Elias had volunteered to do the drive down to Salt Lake City. Matthew’s inner six-year-old had returned, insisting that the group stop at a dinosaur park in a rural part of Utah. What “dinosaur park” meant, Madison wasn’t sure, but it made Matty happy, so she didn’t fight it. 

The museum was mostly outdoors, with life-sized dinosaur models dotting the massive field. “Were you much into dinosaurs as a kid?” Matthew asked Madison. 

“Kind of?” she replied noncommittally. “I always loved learning about them, but never had like a ‘dinosaur phase’ like David or Cody,” she said, referring to her older brothers. “My family used to go to the Canadian Museum of Nature a ton when I was a kid, since it was only a few hours away in Ottawa, and it has like a billion fossils in it.”

“Which was your favorite?”

“Pachycephalosaurus,” she said easily.

Matthew blinked. “Pachycephalo-what?” he asked in confusion. He thought he knew all of them?

Maddy laughed. “Pachycephalosaurus. They had these really spiny heads. But secretly, I think I was a little bit of a teacher’s pet who just liked saying the name. Pretty sure they were actually native to Alberta?” she added. “What about you?”

“Well, now I’m embarrassed to say.”

“Oh, come on,” Madison said, nudging him with her shoulder. “Promise I won’t make fun of you.”

“Fine, fine,” Matty gave in, “it was the brachiosaurus.”

“How come?” she asked curiously. 

“I liked the long necks.” 

They spent another hour or so at the park, Matty grabbing a keychain on the way out. “They didn’t have a brachiosaurus,” he muttered, half-angry, picking up a T-rex one instead. It wasn’t a long drive to the actual Great Salt Lake, and for some reason, they had trusted Elias with the aux. Much to Maddy’s chagrin, he didn’t end up playing ABBA, and they were instead led to cruise down I-15 to the dulcet tones of J.S. Bach. 

Madison looked down at her phone. “Anyone want to go see the Joseph Smith sphinx?” 

“Joseph Smith?” Rasmus questioned.

“Sphinx?” asked Elias.

Matthew laughed. “You know those Egyptian statues of like the cat ladies? Where they have cat bodies but the faces of people?” 

“Joseph Smith was the founder of the Mormon church,” Madison explained. “Well, technically it’s called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, but—”

“Know-it-all,” Matty said in a sing-song voice. Madison shot a glare at him from the back seat. 

“But most people still call them Mormons. And apparently they made him into a sphinx.”

Elias looked at her, still dumbfounded. “But why?”

Maddy shrugged. “Honestly? Beats me.” The weather had dropped too much by the time they had reached the lake to make swimming very practical, so the four of them settled for taking off their shoes, rolling up pants, and wading into the shoreline. 

Matthew bent down, picking up a chipped white rock from the ground, the water just lapping at his fingers. He handed it to Madison. “For you.”

She took it gently, running her hands over the jagged surface. “Aren’t you not allowed to take anything from a national park?”

He winked. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” They stopped at a Chipotle just as the sun was beginning to set, Matthew taking over driving duties from Rasmus. The plan was to drive for another two hours or so, stopping somewhere in southern Utah for the night to spare themselves from another night spent in her Nissan. 

They drove in silence for a while, Elias and Rasmus drifting to sleep in the back row, before a road sign caught Matty’s eyes and he spoke. “I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon, you know,” he said as they continued down I-15. 

Maddy looked over at him. “Do you want to go?” She didn’t know where the suggestion came from, but it was out of her mouth before she could take it back, and after a moment, she realized that she didn’t even want to.

His eyebrows raised as he glanced over at her before turning back to the road, the car’s headlights the only thing in sight. “You mean it?” 

Madison shrugged. “Yeah, why not?” She quickly popped the directions into her phone. “It’s only a few hours out of the way, if we drive through the night instead of stopping somewhere we should have more than enough time.” 

“But didn’t you say sleeping in the car made your back hurt?” Matty asked curiously. 

She smiled softly. “I don’t mind, really. I’ll drive. You’re more important.” Honestly, Maddy surprised herself with her boldness. She wasn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, but it hadn’t escaped her that the dynamic between her and Matthew had changed in the past few weeks and was about to come to a boil. Matty wasn’t exactly the type of guy Madison expected to have a lot of friends who were girls. And a part of her hated that, hated that because of his reputation she automatically assumed when they became friends that all he wanted to do was get in her pants. There had only been one time in their entire year of friendship when they’d even done so much as kissed, and it wasn’t exactly what you’d consider normal circumstances.

---

It was November of the previous year, about six months after Matthew and Madison had met. Matthew had been even more in his head than normal; he hadn’t scored a single point since midway through their East Coast road trip over two weeks ago, and the disappointment was really starting to rag on him. It might not have been something he outwardly showed all that much, but those who knew him knew that Matthew was actually a deeply sensitive person, who took pride in his wins and carried losses with him well after they had faded from the minds of the rest of the hockey world. 

When it had gotten to the point where his frustration was starting to affect his game, Maddy knew it was time to do something. “You’re so much more than your stats, Matty,” she had said, calling him right before she left for the Saddledome. “I know you take this personally, and you feel like you’re letting down the team, but that’s bullshit and somewhere deep down, I know you agree.” Matthew grumbled something that might have been an agreement. “Your team trusts you, they trust you with the puck and with the A, and you’re never going to disappoint them as long as you’re giving it your all. And if you’re the Matthew Tkachuk I know, there’s never a time when you don’t. And win or lose tonight, there’s nothing you could do to change the fact that your family loves you, and your friends love you, and I love you too. Okay?” Clearly, something in her little pep talk had flipped a switch in Matty, because he returned in spectacular form that night, scoring a hat trick in a roaring 5-1 win over the Coyotes. And he didn’t throw a single punch all game. 

A good game without a travel day following usually calls for going out, and a great game with your best friend scoring a hat trick definitely calls for going out, so she dragged Emily along to the bar that Matthew had told her to meet the team at. Matthew had pulled her into a hug the moment she arrived, kissing her cheek and trying his damndest not to spill the beer in his hand on her shoes. An hour and a half into the night, Madison was four drinks in, well and truly drunk, and Emily had wandered off and appeared to be flirting with an extremely oblivious Noah Hanifin. 

“How are you doing, Mads?” Matthew asked, coming up from behind her barstool and resting his hand gently on the small of her back. 

She looked back at him, a goofy smile on her face, and took another sip of her drink. “I’m good, I’m realllly good,” she giggled. “Did I ever get a chance to tell you how good you were tonight?” Matthew shook his head, very poorly concealing a laugh. He had had more than one beer, sure, but he was nowhere near as gone as Madison. “Because you were really good. A-ma-zing,” she added, punctuating each syllable. Her eyes softened as she leaned in. “I know the points drought was starting to weigh on you, and I’m really glad you were able to do this for yourself. I’m always proud of you, Matty, but I was a little extra proud of you tonight. People sometimes write you off as just another good player without any real subsistence,” she paused, correcting herself, “substance, off the ice, but I know the real you, and the real you is even more incredible than the you that plays hockey. It’s my favorite thing to see.”

“It is?” Matthew asked softly, leaning into the hand that had begun to caress his cheek a little bit imprecisely, but that somehow communicated every kind of unsaid word between them. 

Madison nodded, touching his forehead to hers, and then she tilted in. And then she kissed him. Her lips met his, and she tasted like lime and spearmint chewing gum and his favorite kind of tequila. Her lips met his, and it seemed like the room stood still; he barely heard his teammates’ wolf-whistles or Emily’s elated gasp in the background. Her lips met his, and he drank in every second of the kiss until she pulled away. 

---

Maddy hadn’t been drunk enough to black out that night, and she came to the next morning with a roaring headache and the pang of regret in her heart. She thought it was shame at her behavior, embarrassment that she could act so impulsively, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized. The fact that she kissed Matthew wasn’t the issue, not to her, at least. It was the fact that she was drunk in a bar after a hockey game and that wasn’t how she wanted it to happen. She pushed her feelings to the side, trying desperately to focus on work and supporting Matty through the rest of the season, but they always tended to flare up when they were least welcome. Like at the Idaho Potato Museum.

Which of course meant that Matthew would choose this moment, driving down I-15 with two sleeping Swedish hockey players in the backseat, to bring it up. “I remember when you kissed me, you know,” Matty said softly, reaching up to brush his fingers over his lips, like if he tried hard enough he could remember what it felt like to have Maddy’s pressed against his. 

Madison froze, which isn’t exactly what you’re supposed to do when you’re driving. She thought he had forgotten. He had never brought it up, so she really had no reason to believe he would have remembered. “You do?” she asked, swallowing.

She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye. “Mhm. I hadn’t thought about it in a couple weeks, but back in Idaho, in front of the World’s Largest Potato Crisp…” He let out an airy chuckle. 

Maddy breathed in sharply. So she hadn’t imagined that. Her fingers tapped nervously against the faux leather of the steering wheel. “Yeah…” She trailed off nervously. “I was drunk.”

“Oh, you were hammered,” Matthew agreed. “But do you regret it?”

There it was, the million-dollar question that she somehow actually had the answer to. A long moment passed before she answered, figuring it would be best to just rip the band-aid off. Worst case, Matty would hate her and she’d only be stuck in a car with him for ten-odd more hours. No big deal. “No,” she whispered, voice so small he almost didn’t hear it. 

“I’m glad, because I don’t either,” Matty said. Madison hazarded a glance to her side; he looked almost nervous, and nervous wasn’t a look Matthew Tkachuk did all that often. “I had wanted to for a few months, but it always seemed like it was never the right time, or something interrupted us, or I didn’t know how you felt about me. But you made the first move, and I’m glad you did.”

“How come?”

He sighed. “I don’t know how long I would have waited to do something, or if I ever would have done anything. I feel like sometimes…,” he searched for the right words, “the confidence that I have on the ice can be misleading. Hockey is about reflexes and instincts and knowing the game, but it’s also thinking three steps ahead, anticipating every possible outcome and preparing for them. And that’s the part that I carry off the ice. I think I was worried if I ever brought it up with you, if I ever mentioned that I so much as remembered the kiss, you might clam up and tell me it was a stupid, drunken mistake, and I don’t know what I’d do if you said that. Because I don’t know how you feel about me, not like that”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to force the words out, as scared as she was about admitting them. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Matthew had never seen Madison like this before, unsure and worried and downright vulnerable, and it meant so much to him that she was letting him see her like that. 

Matthew let out a watery laugh. “Only pretty sure? Hurts my ego a little bit.” Maddy opened her mouth, but he waved her off. “Because I’m definitely sure I’m in love with you.” This wasn’t ever how she imagined telling him, and it wasn’t how Matty thought he’d tell her, on a freeway in Southern Utah on their way to the Grand Canyon, but sometimes life throws unexpected things at you and you have to roll with the punches. 

“When did you know?” Madison asked curiously. 

Matthew bit his lip. “Few months ago? I knew I liked you as more than a friend probably since you kissed me, but it was after that game against Vancouver that I really understood I had fallen in love with you.” Maddy remembered the game. It had gone terribly for the Flames, a 4-0 shutout with more than one fight and the bench racking up penalty minutes. What she didn’t know was what made that one special. Matthew looked over at her, answering her unspoken question. “Why that one?” She nodded. “I think it’s because it was such a shitty game. I wouldn’t have blamed you at all if you had just skipped out after the end of the third, I know I can be hard to deal with after a loss. But you didn’t leave, you stayed. I remember seeing you outside the tunnel, swallowed by my jersey because it’s three sizes too big for you and you refuse to let me buy you another—”

“I don’t want another because it’s yours, and I love it,” Maddy said quietly.

Matthew smiled. “Your call. But when I turned the corner and saw you, I realized three things at the exact same time. You were there for me when you didn’t have to be, and I wanted to be able to do the same thing for you. Second, you’re who I wanted to come home to. And last,” he gathered his thoughts, “I realized if I never saw another girl in my jersey for the rest of my life, that would be fine with me.”

“I think I knew when you introduced me to your family, when you flew me down for the All-Star break?” He nodded in recognition. “Just seeing you with them, how much you love your parents and adore Taryn. You even managed to not chirp Brady for a whole dinner.”

“My mom threatened me.”

Madison laughed. “Even so. It just gave me a whole new side to you. I had seen you with your friends, and with the boys, and with me, but it wasn’t the same. How deeply you cared about making sure I fit in with them, and had fun, and felt included. It was the last piece of the puzzle, really.” Her hand rested on the center console after she downshifted.

“So, are we going to do this? Do you want to do this, Mads?” Matty asked, wrapping his fingertips gently around her free hand. 

Flipping her hand around, she interlaced her fingers with his. “I’m all in if you are.”

Matthew bent down, kissing their hands. “I’ve been all in since the moment I met you.” He glanced behind him to the backseat, where Elias and Rasmus were still fast asleep. “What do you think they’re going to say when they wake up?” 

“I’m not sure,” Madison said, laughing. “Probably tell us it’s about time. Pass me my phone, will you?” Matthew pulled out her phone from where it was charging on the passenger side. 

“What do you need to look up?” he asked curiously as she pulled off of the freeway and into a gas station; the directions were already programmed into the car’s navigation system.

Maddy gave a coy smile, gently putting the car into park. “I’ve got to text the girl’s chat, tell them they’ve got to make me a jacket. They’re going to go wild.”

 Day 4

 The chat did go wild, even more so after she sent a picture of her kissing Matty’s cheek. After about a half-dozen “we called its” and a promise for her jacket to be ready by the first home game of the series, she turned her phone off, leaning over to ruffle Matthew’s hair; he had taken over driving sometime around four o’clock. “I like that I can just do this now,” she mused, playing with his curls as they crossed the border into Arizona. 

“Please, no PDA in front of the children,” he said playfully, gesturing to the backseat. Elias flipped him off. 

The entrance to the Grand Canyon was only an hour past the state line, and there were more than a few cafés to grab a quick breakfast at. Most of the day was spent walking around the vast expanse of the park, marvelling at its natural grandeur, and taking more than a few incredibly aesthetically pleasing Instagram pictures. A few minutes before they had to pack up and leave for the last leg of the drive, they had hiked over to the South Rim. 

Matty leaned on the barriers overlooking the canyon. “It’s so big.” 

Rasmus snickered from behind them. “Duh, Tkachuk. That’s why they call it grand.” 

He ducked his head, blushing. “Yeah, I mean, obviously. But it’s just kind of surreal, you know?” Madison nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and if either of them had turned around they would have seen Rasmus and Elias sharing a very “I-told-you-so” look. “Kind of reminds us how small we are in the grand scheme of things.” 

It seemed like only a few minutes later that they were pulling into Las Vegas, Rasmus steering the car into the underground lot of the team hotel. None of the boys were expected at practice until the next morning, and they had decided before leaving that the easiest thing to do would just be to book the rooms for the one night. 

“Anyone feeling up to going out?” Maddy asked as they walked down the hallway to their adjoining rooms. “I found a tiki bar a couple blocks away, great Yelp reviews.”

“Sounds good,” Rasmus said. Elias nodded. 

“I’m in,” Matthew added, unlocking the door. “Meet out here in ten?”

The break allowed Madison to get a much-needed change of clothes while Matthew hopped in for a quick shower, emerging in a T-shirt and very, very nice-looking pair of black jeans. Maddy bit her lip, looking him up and down. “You like what you see?” Matthew asked, expression cocky. 

She shrugged. “I don’t have to hide it now.” Madison slipped her phone into her back pocket, grabbing her jacket from where it was slung over the lounge chair. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Matthew said, poking his head out the door. “Boys are already out.”

The walk to the bar couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it felt like twenty in the best way possible. She was holding hands with Matty, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing over the top of her hand, the twinkling lights of dozens of Vegas casinos in their view. Two and a half mai tais and an hour later, the group sat at a table in the corner as Maddy giggled, retelling a particularly embarrassing moment on her high school volleyball team when she tried to make a dive that instead ended up with a ten minute pause in gameplay and the worst nosebleed of her life. She finished the story to raucous laughter, leaning into Matthew’s side. He bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What is it, Matty?” she asked, pulling away to look at him. 

Eyes soft, he tucked a piece of her hair back behind her ear before speaking. “Just thanking God I invited you on the trip. And for the Idaho Potato Museum.”

Madison laughed, the sound like music as it reached his ears. “We should write them. Thank them for helping to get us together. Maybe they’d give us season tickets.”

“Who needs season tickets when I have you?” Matty chuckled, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers.  Sure, Madison was a few drinks in when she kissed him. And sure, it wasn’t like Matty was exactly sober either. But this kiss was different. This kiss was the start of everything. 

[csykora]

I'm so sorry, I feel like an idiot, but apparently I missed Brett Connolly? Or I can't recall who he is off the top of my head, which is shameful. Um, he won the cup with us, right? and I think maybe was friends with Beags? Something about Beags? idk im so sorry, I feel embarrassed about this but no embarrassment for being on 4th can of mt rush, hands shaky and thoughts are going so fast

Please take a gentle breath and look at these photos.

Brett Connolly played with the Capitals for three seasons and helped them win a Cup. He also one of my personal favorite humans in the NHL.

Brett Connolly was born 28 years ago in northern British Columbia, and almost immediately got injured.

When he was five, he tried to climb over one of those big metal vehicle gates to get to the lake to swim, and it crashed shut on his right hand.

“I remember that day,” Brett said. “I obviously squished my hand. It was pretty sore.”

“I’m glad there were good surgeons on Vancouver Island*, and they could repair my hand. It was a freak accident. Thankfully, I have a hand today….I was so young I didn’t really realize the seriousness of the whole thing. Looking back, obviously it could have hampered my career if I didn’t have my hand.”

He describes the surgery as “pretty long.” x

Those quotes might give you the impression that Brett Connolly doesn’t give a fuck about anything. That is not true. 

Brett Connolly loves 1) his wife 2) popped collars 3) Devante Smith-Pelly.

Conno played very well through most of juniors and played for Team Canada in World Juniors, where he won silver and also took a bad hit and injured his hip. He played just 16 games with his junior team in his draft year. He managed 10 goals and 19 points in those games, though, convincing Steve Yzerman to draft him 6th overall for the Tampa Bay Lightning.

Conno debuted with the Lightning, before Yzerman decided to send him down to get more minutes. He scored 31 goals in 71 games for the Syracuse Crunch his first year, and then got loaned back to Team Canada. The only other NHLer on that Junior team was fellow 19 year-old Devante Smith-Pelly, on loan from the Ducks.

Devante broke his foot their first game, so then he just had to hang out. Bonding happened.

Back on the Lightning, Conno got traded to the Bruins, and broke his hand.

BOSTON (CBS) — The newest Bruins winger just became the latest Bruins winger to suffer an injury.

Brett Connolly, acquired early Monday morning in a trade with Tampa Bay, was hit by a puck during Wednesday’s practice. The Bruins announced shortly after practice that Connolly will be out for six weeks with a displaced fracture of his right index finger.

Connolly had just skated in his second official practice with the Bruins, who sent two second-round picks to the Lightning to acquire him on Monday.

That six-week timetable could have Connolly ready to rejoin the lineup just before the regular season ends. 

x

Brett left the Bruins, and signed with the Washington Capitals. He hit 15 goals for the first time in the NHL. He liked it so much that the next summer, when Devante was facing free agency, Brett called and told him he would love it in Washington, too.

“I thought it was a good fit for him, and I think with the team and how everything is run here, it’s a good spot for guys to just be themselves, show their personalities in whatever way and just play and not really put too much pressure on anything,” Connolly told Japer’s Rink later. “It’s a good environment to get better and just play and have fun.”

“It’s funny how things work, I mean, that was a long time ago and now here we are,” Devante said. “Moved from Toronto together, started working out together and became good friends, great friends... it ends up being a small world but we’ve come very close.”

Partly through their wives’ friendship, Brett had gotten close with John Carlson, who would end up being a friend of Devante’s as well. Devante was already friends with Tom Wilson:

“I remember [he] used to watch my games, I think it’s funny to think of now; he’s a grown man, he’s a big boy now,” Devante said.

“[Wilson and Connolly] are two guys, if I need anything, to get anything off my chest and vice versa, we can go to each other. We can all be very honest with each other, always go to each other since we’re such good friends.”

That was the start of the 2017-18 season. Conno scored 15 goals again in the regular season and bumped up the assists. Devante scored a chill seven goals in 24 playoff games.

Twice in the first round, twice in the Eastern Conference final, then in the Game 3 3-1 victory over the Vegas Golden Knights and in the Game 4’s 6-2 blowout, then when the Caps were down a goal halfway through the third period of Game 5, he scored the tying goal on an assist from Brooks Orpik of all people**.

(Brett, the slacker, only scored 6 playoff goals.)

"He’s probably the reason why I have a ring,” Conno said last summer.  “There’s no question, with that goal he scored in Game 5, and all the goals he scored all the way through. That’s something that’ll never be taken away from him."

Another thing we will all always have is this photo of Brett Connolly eating pizza and getting a bicep tattoo (which Devante then paid for a Caps fan to have tattooed on his bicep.

When Devante announced he would not visit the White House because of the president’s “racist and sexist” statements, Conno said he would support him, adding, “It’s not about ‘politics’. It’s about right and wrong.” After discussing with the rest of the team, the two of them both stayed home.

On his Cup day, Conno took it to the retirement home where his mother works, then to meet youth players and then a photo session with thousands of fans in BC, where he raffled jerseys and other Caps items to raise money for the Brock Hirsche Memorial Scholarship Fund at the University of Lethbridge. Hirsche was a friend and teammate who had recently passed away from cancer.

Conno went on to score 22 goals the next season, and doubled his assists for almost 50 points. When Tom Wilson got suspended, Conno got his first line spot. Which is why the Florida Panthers now pay him way more money than we did (he was already sitting at 19 goals in 69 games for them when the season ended). Devante has left us for the KHL, but Conno believes he’ll be back.

"Whoever does end up signing him, they’re going to get the best Devante Smith-Pelly that Washington got a couple years back….There’s a team that’s going to get a really good player."

In conclusion, love and decency are good for your skin. So is sleep. 

*Vancouver is about 9 hours drive away: presumably he was sent by air. I.e., it was a pretty bad squish.

**if anyone has forgotten Brooks Orpik, please @ me

[myhockeyworld87]

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 5

Word Count: 2,287

POV: Sidney’s

Warnings: Language, Small spaces (if you have a fear of that)

Notes: Here we go part 5. I really like where this story is going, and I hope you guys do too. As always feedback in appreciated.

Not So Dangerous Masterlist

It was funny how lack of sleep could make a person more irritable with each passing moment. The plane ride to DC was miserable, the weather was so bad, that it was like riding on a roller coaster, so sleep was something that didn't happen. You'd even abandoned playing video games for when you hit a patch of turbulence; you'd end up hitting the wrong button. By the time you finally made it to the hotel and got your key from (Y/N), you were ready to rip someone's head off.

 "Sid," Phil yelled as you headed for the elevator.

 "What!" you snapped back at him.

 "Jesus, you don't have to take my head off." You took a deep breath, softening your mood before he continued. "I just wanted to see if you told (Y/N) that dinner was at seven?"

 "Shit," you'd completely forgot about dinner. All you wanted to do was head to your room and order dinner in, hopefully eliminating any run-ins with (Y/N). Obviously, that wasn't going to happen now.

 "I'll take that as a no."

 "Yeah, I sort of forgot about it." The doors to the elevator opened then and Phil got inside.

 "Well she's right there, I'll see you in the lobby at seven." The doors slid closed and so did any opportunity of not seeing the girl who seemed to be torturing your dreams.

 You turned around, and standing not twenty feet in front of you was (Y/N), with Beau beside her. It was as if your worst nightmares were coming true. "Miss the elevator, Sid?" Beau chuckled.

 "Something like that." God, if he wasn't injured, you consider wiping the smirk off his face. "I needed to talk to (Y/N)."

 "Oh, well in that case; I'll talk to you both later." He made a move towards the elevators but stopped short. "Thanks again for everything you did last night (Y/NickN)."

 "Part of the job there, Sunshine." Ugh, god now the two were calling each other by their nicknames. Beau ducked into an open elevator, and (Y/N) turn her attention towards you. "So, what do you need Sid? More pillows or do you need something for the game. I'd be more than happy to run and go get whatever you need."

 Why did she have to be so helpful? It made her so much harder to stay away from her when she was being so nice. "No, no. I don't need anything. I just wanted to remind you that dinners at seven tonight. We're all meeting in the lobby at six forty-five to walk down to the restaurant."

 "Yeah, Phil told me earlier." What the hell, why had he….You were gonna wring his neck. "But thanks for reminding me. I'll see you down here shortly." She stepped into a free elevator then. "Are you coming?" There was no reason you had to stay by the elevator bank, so you joined her in the small confines. "So, was your room ok in Ottawa, I wasn't sure if you…" The elevator stopped suddenly, jarring you both as everything went black for a moment until the emergency lighting came on. You reached out and steadied (Y/N) purely on instinct. "What the hell."

 "I think the elevator's stuck." You stated, arm still around her waist.

 "Well can you make it unstuck?" You looked over at (Y/N) and she looked white as a sheet. Her skin was pale and you noticed her breathing was shallow. Reaching out, you hit a couple buttons and nothing happened.

 "Yeah, I don't think we're going anywhere, at least for a minute or two."

 "Well, we should press the emergency call or something." She sounded on edge. It occurred to you then, that she was having a panic attack.

 "(Y/N), look at me. It's ok." Her eyes darted around the small space, and you could tell she was having a hard time breathing. "(Y/N) it's ok." You repeated to her hoping to reassure her. You grabbed her by the waist more forceful then and forced her to look at you. "Take a deep breath with me. In….ok and out….In….and out."

 She finally calmed a bit. "Thanks, I'm sorry; I just really hate small spaces." Your hands didn't move from her waist, for she felt good in your arms. "I blame my brothers they locked me in my mom's hope chest when I was little as a joke. It was on them when my mom found me sobbing and they got grounded for two weeks." She smiled then and you could feel her relax even more.

 "I'm surprised you handle the plane so well."

 "I don't. Beau's been really nice telling me jokes at least until I'm comfortable in the air." So that's why the two were always laughing. "Some of them are so horrible, but it's so nice of him to take my mind off of it." God, you'd been such an ass, thinking that Beau was making a move on her; well he still could be, but this sort of put a whole new spin on things.

 An operator came over the loudspeaker then, from when you'd hit the emergency call button. "This is hotel maintenance, we're aware of the problem and are working on it. It's our understanding that a transformer blew in the area and they are giving us a time frame of about an hour before the power is back on, and then we'll have your out of there right away. Are you ok in there at the moment?"

 You looked at (Y/N) who nodded her head, that she was ok. "Yes, we're fine." You answered for the both of you.

 "Ok then hang tight. If anything changes just hit the emergency button again."

 "Are you sure you're ok?" While she'd already said yes, you just wanted to double-check.

 "Yeah, I'm a little better now. Thanks." She moved out of your arms then, and you felt the loss more than just physically. "Guess we're going to be here a while." She plopped down on the floor and patted the spot next to her. "Might as well get comfortable." Thankfully, you'd both traveled in comfortable Pens clothing, instead of business suits, so it was easier to sit down on the floor beside her. "I'm now wishing I would've gone back for seconds at breakfast."

 "Well, you're in luck." You grabbed your suitcase and opened the front pocket. "I'm not sure if you've heard this or not, but there's this new member working on our team. She does the best care packages in our rooms, and I so happen to have a little something left from mine." You pulled out a candy bar you had left and were saving for later tonight. She smiled, a bright beaming one that was directed solely at you and no one else. "Care for half?"

 "Oh, you're a godsend." You broke the bar in half and handed part over to her.

 "So, I have to ask. How did you know my favorite candy bar, being that I never handed in the form and all? Though I promise I will get it to you as soon as we get back home."

 She swallowed then covered her mouth, in this cute little gesture. "Well I have to confess, I called your mom and asked." A cute pink blush stained her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to introduce myself and well she was so incredibly sweet. We just got to talking and well one thing led to another and she gave me some insight. I hope you're not mad."

 "Mad? No how could I be." You actually hadn't spoken to your mom in a couple days, but you were sure she was going to rave about (Y/N) the minute she picked up the phone. "She probably talked your ear off."

 "We had a really nice conversation. I can't wait to meet her."

 "Well, that will be probably soon. I'm sure they'll be in town for playoffs." Was it wrong to hope that the two would get along in person as well? You sure hoped not.

 "This is sort of changing the subject, but I want to well…I guess clear the air about last night." Why was she bringing him up, when you were fantasizing about her meeting your mother and not just as someone who worked for the team.

 Still, you found yourself saying, "You don't have to explain anything."

 "Well I know it looked bad, but Chris asked if I would help Beau into his room after all the pain meds that they gave him. I had planned on leaving right away, but then he started whining." She laughed obviously thinking back. "At any rate, I fell asleep in the chair. I didn't want to wake him up, so I just crept out the door and well I ran into you." She stopped you before you could say anything. "I should've said something last night. I don't know why I didn't, but I didn't want you to think that I didn't take this job seriously, or that something was going on with Beau and I when there isn't or wasn't. Ok, now I feel stupid."

 "(Y/N), I didn't think anything was going on." Even though you totally did, but it was nice to hear it from her own mouth. "I've heard Beau whine before." You chuckled then. "It's not pretty."

 "I know right. I was afraid he'd wake the whole floor up." God, the sound of her laugh did unholy things to you.

 Once her laughter died down, you decided to get something off your chest as well. "As long as we're confessing things, there's something I have to tell you." She cocked her head at you in question. "The first day in Ottawa, at the meeting, when you asked me if my room was ok." You rubbed the back of your neck as you were a bit embarrassed about this next part. "I hadn't actually noticed anything that you'd done." She didn't really react. "It wasn't anything about you. I just hadn't slept the night before, and the minute I got in the room; I crashed. After we talked, I went to the room and saw everything. It was really nice, what you did for all of us…well for me specifically."

 "I'm glad you liked it. I'll admit, I thought I totally fucked up, especially with the book."

 "God no. I love it; I'm halfway through it already." It really was a great read. She looked visibly relieved when you said that.

 "I hope you like the one left you here. Well, if we ever get out here."

 "Wait, did you do another one of those for this place?" That damn blush again, crept up to her cheeks, and you wondered if you kissed her, would she turn that shade as well.

 "That's kind of what I'm supposed to do right? Make your jobs a bit easier. Which is why I don't feel bad that I made you share that candy bar." You laughed from deep down, something that didn't happen too often. (Y/N) was like this rare gem, that you only came across once in a lifetime and you were realizing more and more you didn't want to let this particular rock go.

 "Well, I promise to share the other one, once this elevator starts moving again." You actually wanted to share more than that with her, which was a bit scary.

 "As long as we don't have to split it while trapped in this elevator it's a deal."

 "It hasn't been that bad, has it?" You asked her because honestly, you weren't sure if you ever wanted it to be unstuck.

 "Honestly, it's been kind of fun." She smiled at you again, it wasn't that bright one from before. It was more secretive and you could be wrong, but a bit seductive. You found yourself leaning in towards her, as your hand glided over to her leg. Her lids started to drift closed as your mouth came closer to hers. It was if the whole world felt right in this one moment, and then the elevator got power and started back up again. The two of you flying apart and scrambling up from the floor. Neither of you said a word, though you could swear there was a look of disappointment in her face; that you were sure yours reflected as well.

 It took about a minute before the doors opened, and there stood hotel maintenance to check on you both. "Are you guys ok?"

 "Yeah, perfectly fine." (Y/N) answered as she stepped out; you following behind her.

 "We're so sorry this happened. Is there anything we can do for either of you?"

 "I think we're good, eh?" And (Y/N) nodded her agreement.

 "Again, we apologize for the inconvenience."

 "No problem." You told them, as they headed down the stairs back to their job. You stood there for a minute while they left, wondering what to say next to (Y/N), but she beat you to it.

 "Thanks for keeping me calm in there. I should let you go rest and stuff…I'll see you in a little bit?"

 This wasn't exactly how you saw this ending, but you could definitely use some time to regroup. "Yeah, I'll see you in the lobby in a couple hours." She headed down the hall in the opposite direction of where your room was; you watched her go, thinking that maybe waiting until playoffs were over to win (Y/N) was no longer an option. Flower was right, there was too much of a chance for someone else to capture her attention. The only thing left to do was figure out how to make a move tonight.

[calpops]

guilt | l.h. & a.i.

In which Ashton must cope with the self imposed guilt of costing his football team a playoff run. And Luke is there to help ease the pain.

Word Count: 1k

***

“It’s over,” Ashton murmured, his voice was low and strained. Guilt consumed him, swallowed him whole like the abandoned locker room.

The season was over. Any prospect of going to the playoffs trampled and broken. Ashton was convinced it was his fault. The last play of the game sitting heavy on his shoulders. Wrapped tight around his ribs and making it difficult to breathe. He knew he was injured, he could feel the splice of pain shooting up his back. But it didn’t matter. Not to him. Not in that moment.

He was transfixed on the fact the ball had fumbled out of his hands, that he hadn’t thrown it away before or kept it close as he was sacked. It happened too quick for him to process, too fast for his body to catch up and do what needed to be done. No one blamed him but himself. The strip sack and scoop and score felt entirely his fault. But the offensive line looked just as guilty; they missed blocks and left him unprotected. If winning was a team effort then so was losing. Except Ashton couldn’t see it that way. All he could see was the replay on the big screen; the way he fell, the awkward twist of his body and his hands dropping the ball before he could be ruled down. The silence of the empty locker room helped bring that moment back to him in full force. With no one around to distract his thoughts and remedy the pain of losing Ashton was succumbing to the self imposed guilt.

“It’s my fault,” he mumbled to no one, again. He leaned forward on the bench, back screaming with sharp pain that he ignored in favor of sitting with his misery; chin in his hands and gaze casted at the floor.

“It’s not,” a familiar voice broke through the gray haze.

Ashton let his eyes look up, thinking twice about moving from his position as the pain settled. His most trusted wide receiver stood in the doorway, uniform already replaced by casual clothes. Luke stepped back into the locker room, blue eyes awash with concern as he took in Ashton’s state. Ashton had only abandoned his helmet thus far; his jersey, padding, pants and cleats still donned his body. Ashton was embarrassed to admit he’d thrown his helmet across the locker room in a moment alone with his frustration. It laid discarded on the tile floor, scuffed as it slid into metal and halted with a haunting crash.

Luke moved toward Ashton, took a seat on the bench next to him and placed a comforting hand on his thigh. Ashton didn’t move to sit up and accommodate Luke, too scared that pain would glint in his eyes and cross his face in a grimace. All he did was put a hand over his; thankful for the offering. Luke was warm and constant. He was the last person Ashton looked to before the linebacker had taken him down. Luke had run his route seamlessly but there was hesitation in Ashton as two cornerbacks settled to double team him. An interception would have been just as bad.

“I didn’t throw it to you,” Ashton said, shaking his head though the ache in his back protested. “I could’ve. You could’ve scored.”

“I was double teamed.”

“You’ve caught it under that pressure before,” Ashton reminded him, to which Luke only gave a comforting squeeze and slid just a bit closer.

“Not with them. They’re the best in the league, Ash. They would’ve picked it or had me down before my feet hit the ground. And you knew that. You made the right choice.”

The gap between them on the bench was minimal as Luke pressed in even closer, just like usual. Whatever bonds they had on the field translated to all that and more off the field. Luke’s hand slid off Ashton’s thigh and out from under his hand, moved towards his lower back and ripped away when Ashton flinched. It took a moment to right himself, to sit up fully and face Luke.

“Fuck,” Ashton groaned, wishing at least one thing would go in his favor that night. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the injury forever; especially not from Luke who would accompany him home. But he wished it wouldn’t have happened so soon. He wanted time to be frustrated and not pitied.

“I knew you were hurt,” Luke accused, switching gears. “You should’ve said something while the trainers were here.”

Ashton waved it off. It was a familiar pain; likely a disc in his back he hoped he could nurse on his own. “I’m fine. The season is over anyway. Doesn’t make a damn difference if I’m hurt or not.”

Luke let out an exasperated sigh. “It does. To me.”

Ashton frowned, realizing what Luke meant. His hiding things from him wasn’t an okay habit to slip into. On the field or off. They needed trust and communication.

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” Ashton conceded and let Luke help him up. Help him out of his gear and into the clothes in his locker. It took a lot longer than usual, and though Ashton was embarrassed he needed to be babied he let Luke do what needed to be done.

They headed back for the car, walking slow with Luke helping Ashton along. The fans had dispersed as quickly as possible. Home town losses—especially ones where wins would have brought them to the playoffs—usually ended in embarrassed fans getting the hell out of dodge as soon as possible. Ashton was thankful for that, knowing that if fans lingered the walk would have been filled with even more shame.

“We always have next season,” Luke reminded as they approached the car.

“Not if they trade or cut me, no way they keep me after costing them a playoff run,” Ashton said weakly and then bit his tongue when Luke gave him a piercing glare.

“If they don’t keep you, I still will. Not getting rid of me that easy,” Luke said with a wink. Ashton appreciated the attempt to lighten the mood and the sincerity of his words. He knew he’d still have Luke, no matter what.

“I’d never want to get rid of you,” Ashton promised as he pressed a quick kiss to Luke’s cheek in the dark of the night.

“Good,” Luke said as he helped Ashton into the passenger seat. “Now quit your moping. We have a whole offseason ahead of us. Don’t need guilt eating you while we’re on vacation.”

Ashton laughed, feeling a bit lighter for the first time since dropping the ball. Luke always understood him and what he needed. Sometimes it was a sharp reminder of reality, sometimes it was soft words of understanding and encouragement, and sometimes it was a fierce mixture of both. Whatever it was, Luke was Ashton’s constant in every aspect of life.

***

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This work is not allowed to be posted by anyone else on any platform in any format (translations included).

Tagged: @vapor5sos @sexgodashton @haikucal @5sosnsfw @thesubtweeter @megz1985

[lovehugsandcandy]

One-on-One: Rematch (Part 2)

A/N: Remember when i wrote the first one of this and I was all like “WHY can’t I write anything short?!?” And NOW we’re at part 2 of a 16K word hot mess and that annoyance over three thousand words seems so quaint. (Part 1 here)

Pairing: Colt x MC, ROD

Length: ~4,000 words

Rating: N*FW (Sex-not explicit (I think?) but it’s there. Swearing.)

Summary: When Langston made it to Nationals, Ellie planned on spending the entire time studying in her room. It didn’t end up quite as planned.

Ellie hoped it was out of her system, that her temporary insanity had run its course and she would return to her normal focus and drive, but Ingrid ruthlessly guilt-tripped her into attending a party that night. Apparently, there were parties every night, various hotel rooms and bars teeming with players and associated hanger-ons, and Ingrid was never one to be left out of a party, especially when they were celebrating a Langston victory.

She was dabbing concealer on the mark at her collarbone when Ingrid walked in, fixing her with a penetrating stare. “You know… you know what you’re doing, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hooking up with a player? Who is it?”

Ellie blinked; her reflection looked as startled as she felt. “I don’t...I don’t know what you’re-”

“I’m not stupid.” Ingrid swiped a brilliant red over her lips, pursing them in the mirror. “You stayed out all night and showed up exhausted to the game with a hickey no makeup can hide? Seriously?”

“It’s not….” Her cheeks were as red as Ingrid’s lipstick.

“Ellie. Listen. Hooking up with players is...complicated.” She turned to fully face Ellie, hip resting against the sink, eyes imploring. “Be careful. They are in it for one thing and one thing only. And you’re never the only one. They always have fans in and out of their beds and we can’t be seen with them, anyway. It’s always temporary; no matter what, there’s always an expiration date.”

“I don’t…”

“Everyone hooks up here. Playoff week is like Candyland but then everyone goes back to the real world. And hookups with players, whether Langston or opponents... it doesn’t translate to back home.”

Ellie swallowed, hoping that it was the bathroom lights that were making her look so washed out.

“But...the guys are all in their peak physical prime so the sex is verrrry good,” Ingrid purred, wolfish smile alighting her face. “But don’t fall for it. Cuz that’s alllll they want.”

“I…” She inspected her nails.

“Ellie… I know…” Her voice was kind, confiding. “I know what you were like in high school and I have really loved seeing you come out of your shell, watch you meeting new people and having a social life. I just... I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t.” She looked up to meet Ingrid’s gaze head on in the mirror. “It’s not like that. It’s…” Images and sensations flashed through her mind, the glint in his eyes as he tracked her movements, the curve of his hand as he pulled her back into bed. “You’re right. It’s just sex. Really.”

Ingrid’s sigh echoed through the bathroom but, thankfully, she dropped it in favor of a sassy lipstick kiss on the mirror. “Fine, fine. Ready to go?”

Ellie didn’t answer the question, only dutifully followed Ingrid out the door, hoping that the party was worth giving up an evening with her nose in theorems and formulas.

It wasn’t.

The party was everything she dreaded; she could barely see through the bodies crowded in the penthouse suite. They forced their way through the crush, avoiding the flailing arms on the dance floor and cheering bros piled around a beer pong table before finally stopping by the makeshift bar. 

“What do you want?” Ingrid wrinkled her nose as she looked over the selection, finally picking up some fruity spikes seltzer with dainty fingertips.

Ellie hummed absentmindedly, “I’ll have a water.” She looked through the crowd again, spying players from all the teams milling and laughing, other cheerleaders she recognized from earlier in the season. But not everyone was there, apparently; she stood on her tiptoes, stretching to see over the crowd, trying and failing to avoid looking for a certain smirk.

“You are so boring.” Ingrid chided and then grabbed her arm. “Oh, there’s Jack. I’m gonna go say hi. Be right back!”

Ellie didn’t even have time to say goodbye before Ingrid was off, weaving through the crowd, trained like a honing missile on the upperclassman she had been fawning over. Ellie sighed, leaning against the table. It would be an interminable night.

As she was nursing her drink, she felt a gentle nudge at her side.

“So are you on a women’s team or are you a cheerleader?” 

She turned and immediately flushed as she realized that the boy next to her fit every single qualification of tall, dark, and handsome. Were all basketball players this cute? Of course, he was tall but the chiseled cheekbones? The dark scruff teasing its way down his jawline? She had to replay his question in her head.  “Oh... cheerleader.”

“I should have guessed. It’s a prerequisite to be gorgeous, apparently. Who do you cheer for?”

“Langston.”

“Ah, we beat you guys three weeks ago. And if we both keep playing well, we’ll see you in the finals.” She nodded, but a familiar figure pushing through the crowd stole her attention. He was engrossed in an intense conversation with a tall brunette; even from here, she knew they were talking strategy, Colt’s eyes lighting up as they parried ideas back and forth. His eyes swept the crowd as he walked past the dance floor, nodding along as his friend spoke, but he stopped as soon as his eyes locked on hers. She swallowed, unable to look away, as he bid farewell to his friend and walked over, positively swaggering, every step filled with the unbridled confidence owned solely by boys who threw the first punch because they knew they would throw the last. She wished she were more stoic, able to pretend that he wasn’t affecting her, but the swoop in her stomach made it impossible to think of anything else.

However, when he sidled up to them, she was surprised that he turned instead to the boy in front of her.

“Logan?”

“Sup, Kaneko?”

“Toby was looking for you.”

“What?”

“He said something about that play you guys were drawing up. With the hand-off at center court?”

“What did he-”

“I dunno man, something about trying it while dribbling backwards?”

“What?” Logan’s eyes widened. “I gotta... I’m sorry.” He turned to her and panic flared on his face. “I have to go.”

Once Logan rushed away racing through the crowd on a mission, she flushed under Colt’s gaze; he narrowed his eyes. “What in the world you talking to him for?”

“What? What do you…” She lifted her chin to shoot him a challenging stare. “Wait, you jealous?”

“Jealous?” He rolled his eyes. “Ha. If I were, I would have just given him a black eye.”

“Why do you care who I talk to?”

“I don’t.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, deflating under her scrutinizing glare. “I am shocked to see you here.”

“What do you mean?”

“This doesn’t seem like your kinda place,” he scoffed. “I figured you would be in your room studying.”

“This doesn’t seem like your kinda place. I figured you would be in your room brooding.”

“Ha. That hurts..” He shrugged, eyes intent on her. “I mean, nothing was really going on in my room.”

She bit her lip. “Ingrid wanted to come and, after my vanishing act yesterday, I figured I should spend some time with her.”

“Well then, where is she?”

Ellie pointed to the dance floor, where Ingrid’s heavy make-out session with the Langston forward was definitely an NCAA violation.

“Hey, I know him.” Colt ducked his head to see through the crowd, rolling his eyes. “He got so huffy about a pick I made that he tried to punch me. They had to stop the game to find his tooth.”

“What?” Ellie peered through the crowd. “No, it was our center you fought.”

“Nah, different game.”

“Wait… how many times have you fought someone on my team?”

“Hmm…” he pondered, eyes narrowing, “I mean, how many times have I played you?”

“Wait…”

“Twice a year in the regular season and once in the playoffs last year, so what is that? Five?”

“You’ve... you’ve been ejected from every game you’ve played us?”

“Sweetheart… I’m ejected from about half of the games I play.”

“How are you still in the league?”

“I’ve gotten a lot of warnings.” He glanced around the room. “But people here have done far worse than me.”

She wasn’t stupid; she had heard horror stories of the trouble athletes had gotten into. It was one reason she had consciously avoided players until... well, until now. Players were not in the plan. But now?

“You wanna get outta here?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I mean, we could stay and play drinking games and get wasted…” He nodded at her water. “Or we could not.” She smirked, holding his gaze as he ducked his head to whisper in her ear, “So, do you wanna get outta here?”

“Yeah, I do.” She really did. With one last glance across the dance floor to ensure Ingrid was occupied, she followed him back to the exit, eyebrows flying up when he clasped her palm to lead her through the mass of bodies. His hand was warm, strong, and entirely too solid for a fling with some collegiate athlete; she held tight anyway. 

She eyed him closely as they walked to the elevator. Now that the roar of the party was receding, Ingrid’s words rang loud in her brain. “What did you mean when you said you noticed me?”

“What?”

“The first time we played you. This season.” The sports page said it had been his best game all season; she didn’t remember a thing except for flashcards on enthalpically driven reactions.

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean, when you were so busy studying that you didn’t even say hi to me? You ignored the star of the game?”

“Oh my God, you are so full of yourself.”

He laughed, looking far more relaxed than he had at the party; instead of being on guard, he looked almost boyish, young, eyes gleaming in the elevator lights. “When I first saw you, you were berating your friend.”

“What?” Of all the things she was expecting, that was not it.

“Your roommate? Ingrid? She made some mistake in her hand placement of a hold and you were trying to fix it before the game. And then you made the team try to retry the jump flip thing?”

“The what?”

“Christ, I don’t know what it’s called. You jump in the air and flip around and three people catch you before you crater onto the court. You made them do it repeatedly until you thought it was perfect.”

The doors opened, and she stepped out, glancing over at him.

“I honestly couldn’t fucking tell a difference any of the times you did it.”

“I…” She followed him down the hall, brow furrowed. “I thought you would say something about the skirt.”

“I do like the skirt.” He reached into his pocket for the key, eyes on her the entire time. “But you’re tough. You didn’t take Ingrid’s shit. Hell, you don’t take my shit. You have high expectations of others, but you expect perfection from yourself. You’re smart and you don’t let anyone stand in your way.”

The door opened with a ding and she stumbled in, unsteady. Apparently, Colt’s talents at surgically cataloguing and exposing the strengths and weaknesses of others was not confined solely to the court.

“What? Why do you...?” he asked.

She blinked, inhaled slowly, exhaled slower, and finally spoke. “You sound like a fortune cookie.”

He laughed again; thankfully, his head fell back so he missed how weak her return smile was as her eyes drifted to his jersey, tossed in a heap on the floor. The championship game was in five days.

If that was her expiration date, then goddamn, she would make the most of it. Straightening, she stalked over to him. “Did you bring me here only to talk?”

He looked down to where her fingers were touching his arm and then caught her eye. “How about some dirty talk?” She rolled her eyes, blush flaring, and he stepped even closer. “How ‘bout some things that definitely wouldn’t be on a fortune cookie?”

Her breath stopped as he ducked his head, lips tracing her cheek, neck, lower, following a trail of red as far as it went, then lower as they fell to the carpet.

They didn’t make it to the bed.

And when security banged on their door to inquire about a noise complaint, Ellie could not stop stuttering apologies, Colt could not stop laughing; once they left, it became his mission to make her scream even louder.

He succeeded.

~~~~~

Ellie woke up slow. Her muscles ached, the best kind of sore, and she sighed in satisfaction. The room was gauzy around her but, as things slowly came into focus, she realized her head was pillowed on a muscular chest, legs intertwined, sunlight just starting to crawl up the starched sheets.

“Colt?”

His eyes were focused on his phone, staring intently at something flashing across the screen. He didn’t move.

“Hey, Colt?”

Finally, he looked down and realized she was awake. “Oh, hey.” He pulled out an earbud. “Morning.”

“Morning. What are you so focused on?”

“Hmm? It’s game tape.”

“What is it?” She sat up, curling into his side to peer at the screen. “Oh my God, you narcissist. Are you watching yourself?”

“Ha ha.” He wrapped his free hand tighter around her waist and sighed, “It’s the game against Williamsburg. See him #42?”

“Yeah.”

“He torched us for a double-double. That’s not gonna happen again.”

He hit play, and the video ran, zoomed in on the player Colt referenced. Ellie had learned a lot from cheering at game after game, but she was no expert. However, even she could tell he was their best player, watching him drain three after three. She squinted at the screen. “What is that weird thing he does with his hand?”

“What weird thing?” Colt hummed.

“The weird flick thing. With his wrist.”

“Huh? What are you…” Colt moved the video back a few seconds to watch. And did it again.

“That! You see that?”

“Yeah….” He sat up slowly, eyes trained on the screen. “He does it before his pump fake. Holy… how did you…”

“Biomechanical engineering, remember?”

“Damn…” he finally turned to her, eyes gleaming, and the awe in his voice made her flush. “I am so fucking keeping you around!”

And when his lips crashed into hers, she could almost forget the twisting in her gut that reminded her of their expiration date, her plans, and the fact that no one was keeping anyone around. 

Almost.

 ~~~~~

Ellie was tucked back into his sheets when he sauntered out of the bathroom. She stared. It had been a while since she had seen him in actual clothes.

“Are you going to the other quarterfinals games?” he asked, toweling his hair.

“Uh…..no? Why would I?”

“I dunno. I go to all of them.”

“Why?”

“Well, we play whoever wins the afternoon game and I think it’s gonna be Williamsberg. Good time to scope out the competition.”

“That’s very strategic of you.”

He leaned over the bed to kiss behind her ear. “I’ll show you strategic.” Then, his tongue parted her lips, stealing her breath until there was a pounding on the door.

“Come on, we’re gonna be late,” a feminine voice hollered from outside.

He pulled back. “Give me a second, for Christ’s sake!” He turned back to Ellie and kissed down her jaw, sloping down her neck. “I’ll be back, ok?”

“What?” she whispered.

“Yo, Kaneko, let’s go.” The girl from outside pounded on the door again.

“Will you be here when I get back?”

Her eyes widened. “If you’re going to both games... you want me to stay here until 10 tonight?”

The kisses returned to the side of her neck, lower, and she tangled her hands in his shirt. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Fine.” She couldn’t help but return the smile, laughing as he flashed her one last wink before ducking out the door and settling back against the pillow.

She lounged for a while, flipping back and forth between channels and seeing what appeared to be every single Picta image ever posted before she snuck out, hotel key firmly in her pocket, and made her way down the stairs to duck back into her own hotel room.

Ingrid greeted her with a raised eyebrow. “Where have you been?” Her eyes immediately found the hickie on Ellies neck and she leered, “And what, or who, have you been doing?”

“Oh my God, stop.” Ellie barely glanced her way before sticking her head in her backpack, rummaging around for a couple textbooks. If she was hanging out in a strange room all day, she might as well get some studying in.

“Seriously, though. Are you...Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes! Yes yes, jeez, yes. I’m having fun. Isn’t that what you want for me?”

“Yeah, but…” Ingrid frowned. “I just worry. You’re so set on studying and school and after school...I don’t want some loser meathead to ruin it for you.”

“He’s not-” She had to physically bite her tongue to stop herself from refuting the phrase. Colt was a lot of things, a walking ball of contradictions wrapped in tight muscles and fast fists, but meathead loser was far from it. Unfortunately, Ingrid’s raised eyebrows suggested she knew exactly how Ellie would have finished that sentence. She sighed and started over, “He won’t ruin anything. I have a plan and I’m sticking to it. He’s just….” She had to inhale a shuddering breath to power through the rest of the words. “He’s a fling. It’s just sex and, after this, everything is gonna go right back to normal. My future plans are fine.”

“Ah yes, Ellie’s seven step plan to get her doctorate and take over the world.”

“Not the whole world.” Where were her highlighters?

“I worry about you.”

“I’m fine. It’s all fine.”

But even when Ellie clutched her books to her chest and headed out the door again, even when she did her best to keep her head high and fight back the blush, Ingrid did not look convinced.

Ellie didn’t know how convinced she was herself.

~~~~~

The only sound in the room was the ESPN announcers droning on and the scratch of a pen over dense words. She had nearly finished the chapter on thermodynamic principles, sprawled over the bed with her toes buried under warm sheets, when the door opened.

“Hey, how were the games?” She finished writing out a formula on an index card, checking to make sure she had noted the correct number of atoms.

“Good. We’re gonna win it all this year, you wait. Williamsburg looked rough.”

“What about Langston?!?”

“Yeah, I don’t…” He sat next to her, trailing off as he noticed that the television was on. “Ugh, turn that shit off.”

“What do you mean? They’re talking about the playoffs.”

He reached for the remote but she held it over the side of the bed, giggling as he flailed. “Look, Langston, there we are. Future champ-Hey! Red and gold. Wait, that’s you!”

“You know they replay this shit, right? They showed it already.”

“You’ve seen it? Don’t ruin it for me, big shot.”

She glanced over at him and his jaw was set, eyes hard.

“Colt?” He didn’t move, eyes looking through the television in front of them, sour lines painted across his face, even though the announcer was droning on about his court vision and passion. She laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Hey, I can turn it off.”

“It’s fine, whatever.” He shook his head and sighed, eyes looking past the tv, past the wall. She frowned. “I just wonder sometimes... does he fucking see this shit? He never watched a fucking game, he never fucking showed but now, that asshole... he cares so much about the family name, the family legacy and now, when people look up Kaneko, it’s me. It’s me they see, not that asshole.” He blinked furiously, still staring straight ahead.

She hit the power button, dropping the remote on the floor to straddle him, cupping his cheeks to look him in the eye. “Colt.” He didn’t even blink, staring straight through her. “Colt.” She thumbed his cheekbone; he didn’t move. “Kaneko.”

“You’ve…” His eyelashes fluttered slowly as he gazed at her. “You’ve never called me that.”

“Isn’t that what your teammates call you?”

“It hits a little different when you say it.”

“Huh? How so?”

“When people say it to me…” He swallowed, hard. “When people say it to my dad...I’m used to it being hollered or screamed. Not...” He trailed off.

“Not what?”

“Not all sexy.” His gaze softened when she glared, and his voice dropped so she had to strain to hear. “Not like it means something.”

“You’re the only Kaneko that means something.”

She gasped as the room spun, landing on her back as he hovered over her. “Call me that again.”

“Kaneko,” she gasped and his lips found her neck, lower, sharp pinpoints of white pain as he found the bruise on her collarbone.

“Again.”

“Kaneko,” she moaned and a tense hand dove into her hair, tilting her head to the side to drive teeth into her sensitive neck. Her hips bucked.

“Me, my name,” he growled into her ear and her vision dimmed, consciousness fading to the only things that mattered: his hands rough on her hips and his voice a rasp in her ears.

“Colt. Cooolt. Kaneko. Colt, please!” He ripped the shirt off his head and her clothes followed, flying through the room, textbooks slamming on the floor, a flurry of motion until she was underneath him, nails digging into his back. He slid inside of her and she screamed, pressure building as his name fled her lips, along with epithets far too vulgar for daylight, as he worked her into a frenzy and then an explosion, when names and sight and anything except for white-hot pleasure was meaningless.

~~~~~

At least when she woke up next, it was still morning. But, by the time they got their act together, breakfast in bed followed by a shower and, a few hours after that, another shower, it was no longer morning, sun high in the sky as Colt grabbed his wallet. “You ever been to Nationals before?”

“Nope.” She shrugged. “Freshman, remember?”

He smiled, grabbing his key from the desk. “Then let’s get outta here.”

“What?”

“Let’s go. See the sights. You don’t have a game until tonight, right?

“Yeah… our semifinal match. I need to be at the arena at 7.”

“Good. Come on.”

She was confused but followed, escaping the hotel to make their way into the city, avoiding the crowds and the press to hop a bus downtown. They grabbed lunch at the waterfront, Colt threatening to push her in the river, hands solid around her waist as she laughed and laughed and laughed. He bought her ice cream and then wiped vanilla on her cheek; his tongue was absolutely indecent as it licked it off, entirely inappropriate for a crowded street. She couldn’t bring herself to complain through her flush. He followed her through small shops, grumbling bitterly the entire way, but she still snapped a photo of him in prop sunglasses and a cowboy hat before he put her in a headlock, pulling her out the shop door as the bell rang merrily over their heads. 

And when she arrived at the arena, 20 minutes before game time, clutching her uniform in both hands, he pushed her against the closed doors to thoroughly map her mouth, lips pinned to hers as hungry hands roved her body and her Langston blue-and-whites fell to the pavement as she pulled him even closer.

And during the game, she had no idea what the score was, registering neither her routine nor the Langston victory; her mind was far away, and she felt distracted, disembodied, until she was sliding the key into the lock and was falling back into his bed.

.

Tags

Perma @desireepow-1986 @leelee10898 @emichelle @client-327 @choicesgremlin @brightpinkpeppercorn @thequeenofcronuts @lilyofchoices @choicesarehard

ROD @omgjasminesimone @mskaneko @lovemychoices @burnsoslow

Colt

@deimosensblog @alegria1580   @thefarrari @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown@soniadotalves@jolietmaraud @flowerpowell@poeticscolt @zaira-oh-zaira @akrenich @sibella-plays-choices​  @maxwellsquidsuit  @liamzigmichael4ever​ @octobereighth @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction

[stars-in-my-universe]

I Hope: part 2 Tyler Seguin

The long awaited sequel of I hope. This will be the final part, I feel like we all needed some closure. I hope you all like it and please let me know what you think, I hope I didn’t disappoint.

Part 1

“McKayla, are you serious? You’ve known about these plans for over a month!” He watched as the blonde parades around the bedroom putting on the last touches of her make Up. Tyler sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands as he waited for her to hurry the hell up.

“Tyler, I have to go meet my sister! She’s going through some stuff okay?’ Tyler was very understanding and had more than enough patience but the fact that she was canceling on Tyler's friend’s barbecue after knowing about it for over a month...it irritated him to no end. He watched as she walked out of the bathroom in heels.

“You’re meeting your sister in heels?” He arched an eyebrow and looked at his fiancee.

“We’ll probably go eat honestly. What is the big deal?” Tyler shook his head and grabbed his keys from the dresser.

“I’ll see you later, if you get home before me let the dogs out but do not leave them outside til I get home. Let them in, Mckayla.” Tyler rolled his eyes as he heard her let out a ‘mhmm.’

Tyler knew this wasn’t working, he knew something else was going on behind his back but he hadn't caught her in a lie nor was their proof plus she still wore her engagement ring. It still didn’t excuse the fact that all they did was fight, constantly. He was tired of it. He drove To His friends barbecue, tapping his fingers to the song and thinking of what he should probably do about the whole situation.

Past

“Tyler, I don’t like fighting with you and I also don’t like the silent treatment you give me every time. We’re adults, we should talk about shit like this.” The two had just gotten into a fight about how she was planning to go to school in California and not Dallas, news that Tyler had no idea about.

“I’ve always planned to go to school in Cali once I saved up enough, Tyler. That’s always been my plan, the plan my Parents and friends always knew about. I didn’t think I’d ever change my mind.” He knew he couldn’t ask her to give up her school for Him, she loved it.

“Y/n I want you to go to school, I want you to have your dream. I just-“ she watched the anger leave him and watched as sadness and uneasiness washed over him.

“I just wish you didn’t have to go so far.” She sighed and moved to sit in his lap. Her hands found their place on his shoulders and his on her hips.

“I would look at schools in Dallas Tyler, but if I had some sort of I don’t know long term commitment from you? Like if I looked at schools here we’d have to be in it for the long run.”

“Deal. You could move in.” He watched her eyes widen.

“Y/n, I’m here for it. For you. I love you. You can move in and look at schools here, anything to get you to stay.” You bit your lip and nodded, you two were really doing this.

“I love you.”

Present

Tyler shook His head as he pulled up to the house, the music already blaring from the back yard.

He may have been engaged to Mckayla and it may have been months since it happened but the past couple of weeks he hadn't been able to get you out of his head.

He hadn't seen you since the last time you said goodbye to him; you stopped showing up to the parties and you stopped hanging around the same Crowd. You had let Him go and Tyler didn’t realize how much it had hurt to not see you around anymore . He had fucked up and he knew that. He knew that the moment you found out about him cheating, he knew that the moment you looked at Him sadly and told him you were going to be staying with your best friend and you’d come back for your stuff which you never did, he knew he ruined it all when you bent down and kissed his dogs goodbye for the last time.

Tyler knew you were done with him when he came Home one day and the pair of house keys were on the kitchen counter, the engagement ring next to it and the wags jersey that you’d specially wear to his games folded neatly underneath it all.

He wasn’t an idiot, he had fucked up Something good and lately he had been wondering if it was even worth it. If what he did was worth breaking your heart, because as cliche as it was he never meant to hurt you.

x-x

Tyler threw his phone against the wall and threw himself onto His bed. He had been home waiting for her, when his phone binged with a text message. And then another and then another. When he finally locked it and looked at his messages he wished he hadn't. ‘Dude Mckayla is here, you coming?’ ‘Bro whose the guy with your girl?’ ‘Segs, wtf is going on?’ It was officially, she was cheating on him and she didn’t even care to hide it. Going to the same spots his friends did, probably not thinking about covering her tracks. He had called her several Times and no answer, all going to voicemail. He was sick to his stomach, he was hurt, and angry and a little bit disgusted. He knew he needed to end it, not like it would come to a surprise, they were both unhappy to the point where she was seeing someone else, Something Tyler had expected for a while.

Picking up his phone, he had called her again, which was sent to voicemail again. Shaking his head he threw his phone on his bed and made his way downstairs, whistling for the boys to come. All three labs greeted him at the foot of the stairs, their tails wagging happily. He was getting restless and angry so he figured waking the dogs would help Him calm down a bit.

Past

“Why is he so fat, ty? Like where did you go wrong?” He shoved you gently making you laugh.

“I left him to my mom and sisters one summer and I guess they over fed him.” The black lab was happily laying at your feet on the grass in Tyler’s back yard. Marshall was chewing on a dog toy in the shade and Gerry was jumping in and out of the pool every time Tyler would throw the toy in.

“You would think having three of them, they’d be a lot crazier but it’s almost as if the more there are the calmer they are.” Tyler nodded and looked over at you.

“Yeah even when Gerry was a puppy he’d just follow what Marshall and Cash did and it was so much easier to train him.” You ran your hand along Cash’s back making him let out a sigh.

“Maybe one day, you and I can get one...together.” You looked up at Tyler.

“You already have all the colors though.” He let out a laugh making you smile.

“It doesn’t have to be A lab, it would just be nice to adopt one with you and raise one.” You nodded.

“Honestly I think when we’re more settled, I think it would be a good idea.” You watched his face light up, Tyler was such a dog dad.

“On one condition.” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“It has to be a girl, this time.”

“Noooooo!”

Present

“This isn’t working mckayla and you know it. Cheating on me, running into my friends and basically ignoring them. Ignoring my calls, late lunches with your sister what the fuck.” He watched as she rolled her eyes.

“What did you expect Tyler? All we do is fight, it’s exhausting.” Tyler didn’t say much else. He knew what a healthy relationship was supposed to be and this wasn’t it. He had one and he ruined it.

“McKayla give me the ring, get your shit and get out.” McKayla stopped folding the clothes she had in her hand.

“So that’s it? You’re not even going to try to work things out?” Tyler gawked at her, she had to be kidding?

“No, I’m not. Because this hasn’t worked out for a long time and you know that. You hate my dogs, you don’t even try to spend time with my friends, but yet we always have to run to your sister’s? A relationship is a two way street, McKayla.”

Past

“Relationships are a two way street, Tyler. I’m tired, I’m tired of chasing you, of begging you for attention. I shouldn’t have to!” You were fed up with his partying. He had stopped caring about the dinner dates, ranked on dinner with your friend, You had even taken a skype call from his mom for him having to lie as to why he wasn’t there to talk to her. All because he was out with his friends partying till 3am.

It had all started when the Stars lost the game against the Blues eliminating them from the Playoffs. They had all taken it hard, but the team decided to go to Vegas before summer started which Y/N could deal with. She encouraged Tyler to go, saying he needed it but then he came home and he was cold, and continued to party well into the night; you would come home from work and people would be everywhere throughout the house and in the backyard, so you’d go straight upstairs with the dogs and go to sleep feeling empty and sad.

“I know that, I’m trying I just-” Y/n glared down at him.

“You’re not trying, Tyler. You’re hardly here!” You were mad and hurt and all you wanted was answers. The two sat in deafening silence as you chose your next words carefully.

“Who is she Tyler?” His head shot up in confusion.

“Don’t lie to me just tell me who she is or tell me you have no idea what I’m talking about.” Tyler didn’t know what to say and apparently his silence was your answer.

“I knew it…”

“Y/n wait, just let me-” Tyler looked up at you and expected to see tears and heartache but instead all he saw was...nothing. Your face was blank, guarded, your eyes cold.

“I will get my stuff tomorrow, I’m going to stay somewhere else tonight.”

Present

Tyler didn’t expect to run into you ever, in Dallas. He figured you would have either moved on or gone to California. But then he saw you at the park, with a cute little black lab puppy on a leash he felt like he could breathe again.

You looked good, healthy and most of all happy. You had that light back to you and the puppy that is currently jumping in your lap probably helped a lot. He didn’t know if he should go over and talk to you or just walk away and leave you, you seemed at peace.

Maybe it was the fact that he was nursing a broken heart or maybe he just needed something positive in his life, or maybe he just missed you but he decided to take the leap and go talk to you.

He watched you stand up and grab the leash off the ground and then it was like time stopped. You turned around and you looked up, the smile on your face immediately fall. Shit. Tyler sent you a small smile and stopped in front of you, his hands in his pockets.

“Tyler…” You didn’t know what to say.

“Y/n, hi.” He glanced down at the puppy who was nipping at the leash.

“Oh uh, this is Bella.” Tyler bent down to say hi to the puppy who happily licked his face.

“You finally got one?” You nodded.

“A girl, like you always wanted.” You let out a sad laugh, Tyler stood back up and stared at you.

“So how have you been?” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“Tyler, let’s not do this.”

“I miss you.” You looked up at him and shook your head.

“Tyler.”

“I know it’s a lot and it’s been awhile. I just, I wanted to say sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I put you through. I messed up, bad and I just-” You chuckled to yourself and stopped him before he could continue.

“She cheated didn’t she?” Tyler was taken back, how did you know.

“You’re not wearing a ring, Tyler. Plus you wouldn’t be apologizing if you didn’t know how it felt, men don’t work like that.”

“I really am sorry, Y/n.”

“Tyler, It’s okay. I’m sorry you had to feel what it’s like but I just hope you grow from this. I hope you realize what this all means and you grow up and the next time you find someone, you keep her and treat her right…” You were smiling sadly at him, no malicious or anger.

“What if ‘the next time’ is standing in front of me.” You bite your lip hard, you would always have a soft spot for Tyler Seguin but enough was enough.

“I’m sorry Tyler. I’m seeing someone…” You watched the small smile fall and the confusion grace his face.

“I- uh, who is he?” You never heard Tyler stutter before.

“He’s a guy I met through school. He’s nice and funny…”

“Does he treat you well?” You glanced at him.

“Yeah, Tyler. He does. He makes me happy.” You could see the heartbreak in his eyes. You didn’t want to hurt him, despite all he put you through, you still didn’t want to hurt him but you needed to end this.

“I used to hope to run into you, Tyler. I would hope you’d run into me and we’d talk and you’d tell me you made a big mistake…” Tyler went to say something but you shook your head.

“I missed you every day after that night. I missed our texts, our phone calls, I missed watching you play hockey funny enough I still watch it because he’s a Colorado fan. But I missed your tattoos, I missed your laugh. And then one morning I woke up and I didn’t miss you anymore, I didn’t think about you, I didn’t hope, Tyler.” His breathing was ragged and he wanted to walk away and forget this ever happened.

“I knew what I was getting myself into Tyler, when I dated you. You loved to party, constantly had girls around you but I trusted you with everything in me and you threw that away.” Your voice was soft, no harshness detected.

“I loved you so much.  I loved the future we had planned, I loved you. And I will always have love for you. But you broke me Tyler in ways no one else ever had and I’m sorry McKayla hurt you. But I’m happy now Tyler and I won’t apologize for that.” You glanced down at Bella who was laying at your feet and then back up at him, his eyes rimmed red and his hand clutching his phone.

“We adopted her together, we live together, Tyler. I won’t go down this road with you again. I healed, maybe it’s time you do the same.” He blinked back the tears at the rejection.

“I won’t be yours again, but I hope you find someone that will. I hope you find a girl who is going to love you and support you. I hope she loves your dogs unconditionally-” He remembered the last time you told him something similar but this time around instead of sadness and hurt, your voice was filled with hope and empathy.

“She’ll treat your family how they should be treated and I hope she makes you happy. I hope you find her and I know you will, Tyler. Because you’ve never had problems in that department.” Both of you let out a small laugh.

“But when you find her, Ty. I hope you treat her right, I hope you learned your lesson and keep her close and for any reason I hope you never let her go. Let her in, let her see you, Tyler. Because despite everything I think there’s a good guy in there, he just wasn’t ready for commitment. But I hope when she finds you, you are.” Tyler looked at you and you could feel it in your bones, this was a final goodbye. He shook his head.

“You were it,” You smiled at him.

“If I was it, you wouldn’t have done what you did, Tyler. Love wasn’t enough this time around and that’s okay.” You stepped a bit closer to him and leaned in to kiss his cheek, his body spray and aftershave hitting you bringing back memories.

“You’re going to be okay, Tyler. But this is it, I won’t be seeing you again.” You pulled away and motioned for Bella to follow you which he puppy happily did.

“Goodbye, Tyler Seguin. I hope you get everything you want in life and more.” Tyler watched you walk away and he could feel his heart break. Tyler took in a breath and closed his eyes, glancing back, he collected himself.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” And Tyler knew it would be for the last time.

[fruitcoops]

eve omg omg omg the jules fic was so amazing!!!! i'm so excited for the rest :))))

Here’s part two of Adventures in Babysitting! The editing was being finnicky, so I’m sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather and Jules credit belongs to @lumosinlove!

“Are you warm enough?” Sirius asked as he swiped Jules’ bangs beneath the edge of his beanie. Jules nodded, still sleepy even at seven thirty in the morning. “D’accord, let’s get going. Re, did you let Hattie out?”

“Yep, she’s all set in the living room.” Remus kissed him as he passed, hauling his duffel up and resting his hand between Jules’ shoulder blades to guide him down the steps. “Careful, buddy, it’s slippery.”

“I know,” Jules mumbled. “D’you think it’ll snow?”

Sirius looked up—the sky was still fairly dark, but smudges of thick grey clouds seemed to be rolling in. “Probably.”

The drive to the rink was quiet and peaceful; a six o’clock wake up call was tough even on the best of mornings, when they didn’t have a third tiny person to worry about. Regulus sounded like he was waking as they left the house, and Sirius hoped he’d stick around long enough to say goodbye. Pascal’s house wasn’t far, but Sirius knew he would miss having him around.

“Morning, boys,” Remus called as they entered the locker room.

“Morning,” Kasey yawned, stretching his thigh out. “How’s the kid?”

“Sleepy.”

“Big mood. He’s with Moody again today?”

“Yep. They’ll probably come watch again at some point.” Remus smiled to himself. “Thank you guys for showing off yesterday, by the way. He couldn’t stop talking about it the whole evening.”

“Who’s ready to win a game?” James whooped, barging in and looking far too awake for his own good.

Leo frowned. “Game’s tomorrow, Pots.”

“It’s never too early to get hyped, baby rookie.” James patted him on the head as he passed and Leo scowled.

“I’m not a rookie anymore! Loops is!”

“If I call Loops a rookie, he’s going to make sure I never have children again,” James laughed, throwing a t-shirt to Remus from across the aisle. “Here, I borrowed that a couple weeks ago.”

Remus gave it a tentative sniff. “Dude, you didn’t even wash it?”

“It’s something to remember me by.”

“You’re a walking nightmare.”

“Nah, you love me.”

There was a new intensity to their practice that morning—they had beat the Ravens before, sure, but that didn’t mean they were guaranteed to win this time. Even James centered himself, tapping a puck back and forth with Remus until it was nothing but a blur between them. Sirius didn’t see Jules or Moody at any point throughout their ice time, which left him a little disappointed when the timer went off and it was time to hit the gym.

They all did lighter workouts, more like cool down exercises rather than legitimate muscle-building routines. Sirius let himself fall into the rhythm of squats, pushups, and jump-roping until each beat of his heart aligned with the impact of his feet on the mats. The jingle of his ringtone finally signaled the end of practice and a collective sigh went up.

“See you tomorrow, gents,” Nado said as he stood and stretched his back. Sirius felt the mood change as the pre-game heaviness settling over them like a weighted blanket.

Remus wandered over and gave his shoulder a light nudge. “I’ll shower and get Jules while you finish up, yeah?”

“Sounds good. I’ll be quick.” Sirius pressed their foreheads together in lieu of a kiss before turning back to the rest of the guys as stretches began. “You know the spiel. Get some sleep, carb load, all that jazz.”

“Got it, Cap,” Leo said. He tried for a smile, though he looked troubled.

“The Ravens are a great team, but we’re better. We beat them before and we can do it again. Shake off the weird vibes, okay? We can do this.” We have to if we want to make it to the playoffs, he thought instinctively before reaching over to tap the strip of wooden floor that the mats didn’t quite cover. Nope. No playoff thoughts. Just the game.

Eight minutes and a dozen fist-bumps later, they arrived at the locker room in a jumble of bodies. Sirius paused at the end of the hall and heard more than one quiet ‘awww’; Remus was waiting outside, as promised, with Jules fast asleep in his arms. He winked when he saw them and held a finger to his lips, stepping out of the way so they could sneak past.

Moving over a dozen fully-grown hockey players through a small space was not the most stealthy of activities, especially when all of them lingered to get a look at the sleeping child—it was no surprise that Jules woke up partway through and blinked drowsily at them. “Hmm?”

“It’s okay, buddy, you can sleep,” Remus murmured, hitching him a little higher up. “We’re heading home soon.”

“But I wanna watch,” Jules said, pouting slightly. Kasey made a soft noise and put his hand over his heart.

“You can watch the game tomorrow,” James said in a gentle voice. It wasn’t baby talk, persay, but Sirius had definitely heard him use that same soothing tone when Harry started to fuss. Jules snuggled his face into Remus’ neck again with a hum.

Sirius showered quickly and grabbed his bag, barely checking to see if his stuff was all there before ducking out of the locker room with a final mock-salute to the guys. “How long has he been asleep?” he asked as he picked up Remus’ duffel.

“He was out cold on the PT table.” Remus laughed under his breath. “Moody said he was a firecracker for about an hour and a half, but he came back from the bathroom and found him all curled up.”

“That’s so fucking cute. Did you get a picture?”

“Already sent it to my folks.” Remus carefully set Jules in the backseat of the car and buckled him in while Sirius closed the trunk as quietly as he could. Once they were in their respective seats, Remus leaned over the console and gave him a proper kiss, nice and slow. It sent a buzz all the way down to Sirius’ toes.

The lights were off at the house when they arrived; Jules was fully awake by then and Sirius watched his face fall at the same time his own heart clenched. “Regulus left.”

“Yeah, I think so. It’s okay, we’ll see him tomorrow.” Sirius added the last sentence partly for himself—he tried to keep in mind that Regulus was an adult and had moved out ages ago, but they had settled into their routine so quickly. He didn’t want the house to feel empty again.

“Hey.” Remus’ hand was light on his elbow and he blinked, looking over at his smile. “You alright?”

“Yeah, all good. Let’s get some lunch.” He offered a smile that he knew was weak, but Remus linked their hands all the same and kissed his cheek before getting both their bags out of the back.

Jules was playing hopscotch with the checkerboard of ice patches on the sidewalk; it had snowed while they were at practice, after all. There was a faint bark from inside and Jules gasped happily, racing toward the front door with reckless abandon and pressing his face against the wood. “Hi, Hattie-girl!”

Sirius unlocked the door, bending slightly to absorb her impact as she tumbled into them both and covered Jules’ face in kisses, wiggling to pieces with sheer joy. She sprinted for her toy box and grabbed a knotted rope, trotting back to Jules for him to grab the other end and tug.

“Do we have leftovers from last night?’ Remus called from the doorway when Sirius headed into the kitchen.

“I don’t think so, but we have turkey. How does a sandwich sound?”

“F—uh, really great.” Remus grimaced as he walked in and dropped his wallet on the counter. “I have got to be better about my language. Mom’s still mad at me for teaching Jules to say ‘fuck’, and that was years ago.”

“You had no qualms about teaching Harry bad words.”

“And you had no qualms about being on a desert island without me,” Remus said coolly. “Yet here we are.”

“Touché.” Sirius turned around to construct the sandwiches and felt someone lightly slap his ass. He laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Remus grinned, stealing a slice of cheese from his small pile and hopping up to sit on the counter.

“I don’t know why you do that.”

“Slap your ass or steal food? I do both because I love you.”

“I meant sitting on the counter. You know, where we eat.”

“I like to feel extra tall,” Remus said, reaching for another slice of cheese until Sirius gently smacked his hand away.

“Shortie.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s a bad word,” Jules said from the doorway with a smile. He looked quite disheveled from playing with the dog.

Remus sighed. “It is, indeed. Don’t repeat it.”

“I could.”

“But you won’t.”

“I could.”

“I’ll tell mom.”

“She’d blame you for teaching me.”

“I’ll tell dad.”

“He’d think it was hilarious, and then he’d tell mom and she’d chew you out.”

Remus rolled his eyes and scooted over to make room for Jules to hop up next to him. Sirius threw his hands in the air. “Both of you! What the hell? Who taught you to do that?”

They shared a glance and shrugged. Sirius was starting to understand why people thought it was creepy how similar he and Regulus looked. “It’s a side effect of being the wiry kids on the block when everyone else is taller,” Remus said, snorting as Jules flexed his skinny arms.

Sirius handed them each a sandwich and, with a heavy sigh, boosted himself up to join them. The marble was cold, but it was…kind of fun to swing his legs and get a few extra inches of height. “I think he likes it,” Jules stage-whispered to Remus.

“It’s not horrible,” Sirius conceded, taking a bite of his food.

“Come to the Dark Side, we have the best places to sit.”

Jules widened his eyes and wiggled his fingers at Sirius until they were all laughing too hard to actually eat, then fell into silence as hunger took precedence after not having anything substantial since breakfast. “Are you good with reading or watching TV for a bit while we take a nap?” Remus asked between sips of water. Jules nodded, still making his way through his sandwich.

“What’re we doing after?”

Sirius paused at the same time Remus stopped halfway through a drink of water. They made eye contact, and he knew they were thinking the exact same thing: oh, fuck, we actually have to do things with a child around. “Uh, we’re…going to the park,” Remus said.

Jules made a happy noise around his sandwich and swung his legs. “Cool!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Okay, mom.”

----------------------------------------

The park was a winter wonderland, to say the least. Four inches of snow coated the grassy field and weighed down the branches of the trees lining the playfield, where about a dozen kids built snowmen with their parents. Hattie’s breath fogged the window as they parked and her wagging tail lightly smacked Jules’ forehead every few seconds.

Jules was out of the car the second Sirius turned the engine off, grabbing Hattie’s leash and leaping into the nearest snowbank with a whoop. Remus burst out laughing and followed him with a final glance over his shoulder to Sirius.

They were making halfhearted snow angels when he finally wandered over to the snowbank. They looked so peaceful, so content and happy.

Remus gasped when the first snowball hit him dead center in his chest. Jules laughed even harder until the next one landed in the neck of his coat and poured a veritable waterfall of snow down his front. They both stared up at Sirius in shock and betrayal; he grinned and tucked his chilly hands into his pockets.

“Go for the legs, Jules,” Remus advised as he scrambled up, keeping one hand on his beanie so it didn’t fall off.

Sirius barely made it three steps before Jules grabbed him around the shin and nearly tripped him. He did his best not to drag the kid face-first through the snow, but Jules didn’t seem to mind as he hooked an arm around his other ankle and Remus collided with his shoulder, sending all three of them to the ground in a heap. “Ugh.”

“Gotcha,” Jules said, clambering onto his chest with a breathless smile. Hattie, who had come over to see what all the fuss was about, began licking his half-frozen ear.

Remus sprinkled a handful of snow onto his face, slowly obscuring his view until everything was icy and white. “Vengeance is sweet, huh, buddy?”

“Totally.”

Sirius wiped the snow away and blinked up at two pairs of amber eyes. “I surrender?”

“I should hope so,” Remus laughed as he stood up and brushed himself off, offering a hand to help him to his feet. He kissed his nose in consolation as Jules took Hattie’s leash and ran off toward the playfield, where he would no doubt make seven new best friends within the hour.

“Cute kid,” a middle-aged woman with a kind smile said as she stopped next to them.

“Isn’t he?” Sirius smiled as Hattie rolled onto her back for belly rubs from three different kids.

“How old?”

“Ten.”

Her eyebrows rose and she looked at Remus. “You must have been young when you had him.”

“What? Oh, no, he’s my little brother!” he said quickly.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, you just look so similar,” she laughed, clearly embarrassed.

“No worries, it happens all the time. Which one is yours?”

She pointed to a giggling little girl on the swings, whose dark curls were braided back into a poofy bun. “Lena turned twelve yesterday.”

“Aw, happy birthday to her!” Sirius wrapped his arm around Remus’ waist and put his hand in his back pocket, pulling him close for warmth. They both waved to Jules when he looked over and beamed at them.

The temperature dropped rapidly as four thirty came and the sun began to set; soon, the fat flakes of snow grew smaller and icier as they flurried around the park. Lena and her mother left about half an hour before Remus started bouncing on his toes in an effort to keep warm. Sirius considered himself a decent fiancé, so he figured it would be best to not let Remus freeze solid.

Jules was damp and shivering with melted snow when they got back to the house and Hattie immediately laid down in front of the heater vent as he ran upstairs for a hot bath; Remus and Sirius peeled their soaked outer layers off and hung them in the bathroom to dry.

“If he gets hypothermia, mom’s gonna kill me,” Remus muttered as he shook Jules’ scarf out over the bathtub, though Sirius could see the genuine concern in his eyes.

“He’ll be fine,” he assured him with a gentle hip check. “We were only there for a couple hours and we left pretty quick after it got really cold.”

“He was shivering in the car.”

“Re.” Sirius set his coat down and took Remus’ face between his hands. “Jules will be just fine.”

“We would be really good parents.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Not now, obviously, but I think we’d be good parents.” Sudden nervousness shadowed his face. “Sorry, that was way out of the blue. Do you—do you not want that?”

“No, I do! I really, really do but…we’ve never talked about it before. Like, in depth.” I wouldn’t be a good dad. I barely know what a good parent looks like, aside from yours and the Potters.

Remus relaxed. “Oh. Well, I don’t think it would be a great idea to adopt kids while we’re still working full time playing hockey, but in the future…” He shrugged, the edge of his mouth ticking up in a smile. “I think about it sometimes.”

“Me, too.” There was a splash upstairs and they both laughed. “Well, I guess we’re about to have an indoor swimming pool.”

“I’ll get the towels.”

------------------------------------

Sirius was almost done with the dinner dishes when he realized he hadn’t heard much noise from Jules’ room in quite a while, and yet Remus had yet to come back downstairs. He paused, listening to the muffled voices—no, not voices. Just one.

He rinsed the last plate and washed his hands, making a face at the weird soap texture and the ensuing dryness of his knuckles. There were few chores he genuinely disliked, but dishes were one of them.

The door to the guest bedroom was still open when he went upstairs, and a soft light shone out. He stopped in the doorway, a greeting dying in his throat.

“—‘hold it up!’ said Gandalf. ‘And look closely!’” Remus lowered his voice into a grumble as he read Gandalf’s lines; Jules was entranced, though he struggled to keep his eyes open for more than three seconds at a time. “As Frodo did so, he now saw fine lines, finer than the finest pen-strokes, running along the ring, outside and inside: lines of fire that seemed to form the letters of a flowing script.”

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Sirius, flushing faint pink. In the pause, Jules sighed softly. “Why’d you stop?”

“We’ll pick it up again tomorrow night,” Remus whispered, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “Sleep well, buddy.”

“Sweet dreams,” Sirius added.

Jules mumbled and snuggled deeper under the blankets while Remus set the book on the nightstand and turned the bedside lamp off.

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Sirius said as soon as he had closed the door behind them and they walked down the hall to their bedroom. “Was that The Hobbit?”

“Fellowship of the Ring. It’s one of my favorites, and he picked it up this afternoon while we were napping.” Remus pulled his shirt off and sifted through their sheets for his pajama pants. “Did you do the dishes?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, baby. That was really sweet of you.”

“You were busy being adorable.”

“Shush,” Remus scoffed, though the blush returned to his cheeks as he curled up under the covers and made grabby hands toward Sirius. “C’mere.”

The bed was cold when he laid down, but Remus was warm, and soon they were tangled together as the moon shone through their window. Sirius drifted off to slow breaths and dreams of the future, where maybe—just maybe—their kid wouldn’t have to leave after four more days. 

[oh-obrien]

Paper Houses {1.0}

Pairings: Bellamy Blake (AU) X Original Female Character

Warnings: Mentions of Underage Drinking and Recreational Drug Use

Word Count: 5,502 (a little shorter to kick off here).

Author’s Note: This one is going to be a fun ride, and I’m really excited for the story I have planned. Each section will be a mix between the present and either the past or the future, time changes will usually be pretty clear and they try to help support the plot throughout the entire story. It’s more of a college-esqu AU but you’ll see what happens. Also the title is inspired by Niall Horan’s song Paper Houses which is one of my all time favorites of his and that should be a little hint for some of the plot.

“Some guy on tinder last night slid into my DM’s!” Aisling yelled over the music that had been turned up so loud it felt like the bass had begun to make her teeth vibrate. The playlist that had been on most of the night had a mix of the friend’s favorite songs on it, everyone contributing their top ten favorite songs to be added. Aisling would have turned the music down if her dad's property didn’t have ten acres, she felt more than comfortable with the fact that none of their ‘neighbors’ would be disturbed by her friends. “Yeah! And he goes, ‘oh you’re that bitchy girl on the Arkadia lacrosse team all the boys talk about,’ I was absolutely dying!”

Harper laughed before giving Aisling a questioning look. “Isn’t that what Tinder is for?” She asked with a confused tilt to her voice, “sliding into people’s DM’s?” Aisling found it amusing sometimes how easy it had been for Harper and Monty to find each other; they were each other's first loves, and everyone believed they’d be in it for the long run. Their two-year anniversary had just passed, and the couple seemed happier than ever. 

“Aisling is too busy pining after Bellamy to actually use dating apps the right way,” Clarke waved off Aisling’s warning glare as she finished taking a drink out of the bottle in her hand. “Everyone here knows you’re in love with Bellamy, don’t act so surprised.” Clarke hiccupped and laughed before continuing, “and you say that like this entire island doesn’t revolve around lacrosse and everyone doesn’t know you as ‘that bitchy girl on Arkadia’s lacrosse team’, who even was it?”

“Probably Finn!” Raven announced loudly before she and Clarke both started laughing again, both clearly well past tipsy and on their way to drunk. “Why doesn’t your dad go out of town every weekend? This is awesome!” Having the two girls hungover at playoffs tomorrow would be an absolute treat for the rest of the friend group, that is if they weren’t all hungover the next morning.  

Aisling just shook her head while she stood up, stretching afterwards, her spine cracking in that sickly satisfying way when she turned to the left. “My dad doesn’t have an away game every weekend, ask the AEC if they can switch his schedule to no home games.” She set her water down on the table before turning around. “Actually don’t,” she corrected herself after realizing she wouldn’t put it past Raven and Clarke to actually email God knows who at the America East Conference and ask to have Stony Brook’s football season shifted to all away games while they were drunk. 

Aisling took Raven and Clarke falling into a very animated conversation about how much they dislike their shared ex as her cue to leave. Slipping her feet back into her flip flops, she made her way up the stairs of her home’s large patio and grabbed her half-drunk bottle of Gatorade off the wooden railing after she reached the top. “How’s not drinking going?” Octavia asked while they both looked out into Aisling’s backyard, filled with their friends who were all probably at least tipsy. 

The lights her father had installed into the yard when she had been younger lit up the area and the pool sat illuminated in the background. The early Long Island summer air still had a chill to it, enough of one that Aisling slipped on a hoodie when she had gone inside to order dinner earlier. They were waiting for Octavia’s older brother, Bellamy, and their friend, John Murphy, to get back from picking up the group’s excessively large order from The Dead Zone.

Leaning over the wooden railing of her deck, a bottle of red Gatorade in her hand, Aisling just laughed, her shoulders shaking slightly. “I can’t believe we’re the ones who have playoffs tomorrow and we’re babysitting our drunk friends. Like I at least wanted to take a couple shots of something,” she scrunched her nose up when the strong smell of marijuana washed over her. “I said no weed Jasper! Monty too! It does not need to get out that my dad lets his daughter’s friends come over while he’s at a game to drink underage and smoke pot!”

Aisling rolled her eyes when she heard the boys in question yell “Sorry!”. Where they even were in her large yard wasn’t a question she asked anymore, she just needed to make sure they stayed out of trouble. 

“Effective,” Octavia laughed. “So,” She trailed off while she dangled her water bottle over the edge of the deck, swinging it back and forth slowly. “Is your dad still recruiting that boy from-” Octavia got cut off when the two girls heard the back door slide open. Bellamy and John each carried two large boxes that were filled with food. At least she knew that their weekly orders were probably paying some of the bills at the Dead Zone. 

“They have your dad’s card on file?” Murphy said as he set his boxes down on the outside kitchen’s countertop. “Because we said we were picking up under Bryne and the guy was like ‘oh yeah Aisling called we put it on the card already’, that was at least three hundred easy.” Aisling grabbed her order of mozzarella sticks and crunchy chicken wrap before shrugging. 

She bit into one of the sticks before speaking. “When my dad says to buy whatever we want and he has the salary he does, I think it’s fine.” She set her things down on the outdoor bar. “Tell the drunken delinquents that their food is here, but I suggest grabbing yours first.” She walked over to the fridge and sifted past the countless types of alcohol that had been placed inside it earlier to grab a bottle of raspberry tea, cracking the top before grabbing her food and walking out to the pool. 

Walking past her friends who were going to retrieve whatever they had ordered, Aisling pushed the gate to her family’s large inground pool open, walking around the brick deck area before carefully setting her things down next to the edge of the deep end. She balanced on one arm while she slid her feet into the water, the LED lights in the pool illuminating the water in different colors. She slowly kicked her feet back and forth, watching the water ripple as she did. 

“Food for thought?” She gasped and nearly fell into the pool when she heard Bellamy’s voice. She hadn’t heard him enter the pool area and wasn’t really paying enough attention to have heard him anyway. “Sorry if I scared you,” he set three containers down along with a bottle of Cherry Coke. 

Aisling just shook her head, “you’re okay, I wasn’t paying attention so part of that is on me. You can drink, you know?” She nodded towards the bottle of Coke, “you’re like the only one of us who’s actually twenty-one.” She kept kicking her feet in the water, watching as it rippled out with each movement she made. She hoped that it would distract her from the fact that Bellamy Blake actually sat down right next to her. Well, it’s not like they’re not in close proximity all the time, because they are, but this just feels different.  

“I’d rather not leave the babysitting up to just you and O,” Bellamy picked up one of his wings and bit into it, licking the extra sauce off his lips before continuing. Aisling tried not to watch as his tongue swept across his lips, that would definitely be awkward if he caught her. “You two are stressed enough as is, you more-so probably,” he continued to devour his food. 

“I’m not like, stressed,” Ash mumbled around the bite of chicken wrap she had in her mouth, “I know I’m playing at Penn State next year, my commitment is locked in if we win tomorrow and move on to states or not.” She wiped her hands off on a napkin, “it’s not like a problem for seniors y’know?”

Bellamy dropped the bone that had been left from his first wing back into the container before grabbing a few french fries out of another container and shoving them into his mouth.

“It’s still probably weird for you,” Bellamy spoke after a few moments of silence between the pair, “I mean sure you’re graduating a year early and with almost all of your friends now,” Bellamy took a long sip of his Coke. “And I know that almost all of you are going away to school, but Clarke is going with Raven and they’ll be able to room together. Jasper and Monty are doing the same thing, Miller’s staying here and I think Murphy is taking it day by day,” Aisling laughed at that, “but you’re going up to Pennsylvania by yourself, a month earlier than everyone else is leaving, it’s just weird is all.”

Aisling wasn’t quite sure how to respond, sure she’d had a weird sense of guilt about being the first of their friend group to leave home nagging her for months, but she hadn’t had someone else bring it up to her yet. Bellamy had seemed to be one of the few constant figures in her life since she had met Octavia at her very first lacrosse practice in second grade. The now twenty-three-year-old, had spent more than his fair share of time babysitting Octavia and Aisling when they were younger. He had played too many board games, fallen victim to makeovers and watched more Disney movies than any teenage boy would have wanted to admit at the time. However, he always did it with a smile and never seemed anything less than happy to be with the girls. That had never been something Aisling experienced with her own brother’s.

Patrick, Aisling’s oldest brother, had been in the tenth grade when she had been born. He had been in the middle of the college recruiting process for football and sat at the number five spot for recruits nationwide. He didn’t have time to deal with a baby sister, especially after he went off to Louisiana State University right before Aisling had turned two. Tanner, who had been in kindergarten at the time, also didn’t want much to do with Aisling. He had been much more engrossed in learning how to play football with his dad and older brother, something she didn’t blame him at all for. Football had been their family’s culture for decades. Around the time Aisling had been born her dad had just started coaching college football at Baylor after his pro career with the Cowboys had ended due to injury, football was in the Bryne blood.

Two weeks before Aisling had started second grade the Bryne family had relocated to Arkadia, New York. A small beach town about ten minutes from Stony Brook University, home of the Stony Brook Seawolves football team and her father’s new head coaching job. She met Octavia Blake at the very first lacrosse practice she attended after moving. Aisling hadn’t wanted to play lacrosse at first, but her father insisted his daughter at least learn to play lacrosse if she would never have the chance to carry on the family name playing football.

“I-” Aisling started but couldn’t figure out how she should respond. “It’s not that I’m not upset, because I am, trust me,” she went to take another bite of her wrap, but her appetite had seemed to disappear. “It’s just an opportunity that’s kind of hard to turn down, and Penn State is one of the top teams in the country Bellamy, they’re looking like they’re going to make it to at least play-off, if not to a national title game next year.”

Silence came over the two and Aisling wasn’t quite sure how to continue. ‘Yeah I love you and it sucks I have to leave?’ definitely not smart. “I guess all I’m saying is that,” Bellamy sighed, “as weird as it is for you, it’s just as weird for everyone else and some of us feel like you’re putting what your family wants before what you want.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Aisling Bryne had always been raised to be an athlete, to be competitive, not to be nice. With a former NFL player and current Division 1 College Football Coach for a father, one brother in the NFL with a Super Bowl ring on his finger and another brother attending the University of Texas as the number one ranked college quarterback in the country, she knew no different. She grew up living and breathing football, which meant she also grew up around her dad’s players and her brother’s teammates. 

Safe to say unrealistic relationship standards had been set for her very early on in her life.

At the age of ten Aisling’s competitive nature had earned her the very first broken bone. A Saturday morning lacrosse tournament during college football season meant that Aisling’s father, Sean, wouldn’t be able to attend. Instead, she had stayed with her best friend and teammate Octavia Blake the night before. Aurora Blake had ordered two pizzas before she had to go to work and left her son, Bellamy, with strict instructions to make sure the girls didn’t inhale all the sugar in the house and that they got to bed early. Luckily, Bellamy had let the pair stay up for one extra movie and even made them hot chocolate!

Octavia and Aisling were both in fifth grade while all their other teammates were in sixth or seventh grade! The two girls had proved their athletic abilities very early on in their lacrosse careers and instead of being put into the 10U division when they were eight, they had been bumped up to 12U early. They had formed a tight knit friendship rather quickly and both girls intended to stay playing on the same team until they were forced to part ways in college, if they didn’t commit to the same team, of course. Now they played on a 14U team and it was hard to form bonds with the girls in middle school while they were still in elementary school.

The two girls sat on the sidelines of the turf field, lacing their cleats up along with the rest of their teammates, getting ready for the final game of the day. The Arkadia Knights 14U team had made it all the way to the tournament’s championship game and all the girls wanted to win another trophy. “I’m still not great at tying these by myself,” Aisling held the two laces in her hands while she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“Oh,” Octavia looked over to her best friend with a crooked smile, some of her visible teeth still missing, “I’m not good at doing other people’s yet.” She huffed while looking around them.

“I don’t want to ask one of the other girls,” Aisling whispered so only Octavia could hear. “They’ll think I’m a baby!” She had spent long enough trying to prove she could play just as well as the older girls on the team. After she had taken one of the starting defensive spots from a sixth grader, Aisling wasn't sure if they liked her very much anymore. She did not want to have to ask for help tying her cleats, what if it got back to their coach that she couldn’t do it by herself and he took her spot away?

Octavia spent a little longer looking around before turning to aisling with a smile. “You could ask Bellamy!” She pointed to her older brother who sat next to her mom in the stands, clearly engrossed in his phone. Bellamy would also probably think Aisling was a baby for not being able to tie her own cleats, he had been the starting quarterback for their highschool football team as a sophomore! Definitely too cool for little kids. 

However, asking Bellamy seemed like a better option than asking one of her other teammates so Aisling sighed and pushed herself off the ground, carefully walking towards the stands. She made her way up the metal stands and over to where Bellamy and Aurora Blake sat. “Hey Ash,” Aurora looked at the younger girl, “what’s wrong?”

“I can't tie my cleats and make them stay by myself,” she looked down at her untied laces. “And I didn’t want to ask one of the other girls because they’ll think I’m a little kid and make fun of me and O said to ask Bellamy.” 

At the mention of his name the teenager in question looked up and set his phone down next to him. “No one should be making fun of you for that, Ash,” Bellamy patted his knee and Aisling put her right foot up on it. She watched as Bellamy quickly double knotted her first cleat before telling her to switch. “Don’t let anyone be mean to you or O because you’re younger, okay?” Bellamy asked after he finished tying her second cleat.

“Okay,” she nodded, “thanks Bell!” She waved before running back down to join her team. 

About halfway into the third quarter while playing defense Aisling had managed to check the ball out of an opposing player’s stick and scooped it up before she started running up the field to find an open teammate. Just as she had been about to cross midfield, she noticed a player from the other team running up to try and block her.

However, the other player clearly had another idea and Aisling didn’t have time to move before the head of the other girl’s stick came down hard on her wrist. A crack could be heard upon impact and Aisling’s stick fell out of her hand before she fell on the ground, holding her right arms close to herself. The penalty whistle on the other player didn’t register in her mind as her coach came running out to make sure she was okay. 

When she pulled her arm far enough away from herself to look at it, she noticed her wrist had been bent at an odd angle and she couldn’t really feel her fingers. Octavia sat down on the turf next to her while her coach went to go get Aisling’s cell phone so she could call her dad. “He has a game today!” Aisling winced when her assistant coach wrapped an ice pack around her wrist.

“Well it looked broken, I’m sure he could miss his game because you got hurt,” Octavia helped aisling up and they walked off the field to where Aurora and Bellamy were waiting. Aurora had her phone held to her ear but stopped talking to tell Octavia to gather up her and Aisling’s things.   

“Let’s see what this looks like,” Bellamy carefully pulled the ice pack away from Aisling’s wrist and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when he too noticed the odd angle it had been bent at. “Mom called your dad,” Bellamy spoke softly while he wrapped her arm back up in the ice pack, “he said we could take you straight to the college if you’re the most comfortable with that,” Aisling just shrugged and held her arm close to herself again.

She knew that there would be actual doctors, definitely an orthopedist, at Stony Brook that day with there being a home game. The tournament had put them about half an hour away from the university and the Blakes knew that she didn’t like hospitals, especially after her mom had passed, so it seemed like the most obvious solution.  “I mean, I don’t want to bother anyone with you guys having to go there. You could just bring me home once the game is over and I’m sure my brothers will know what to do.”

“There’s a football game!” Octavia dropped her and Aisling’s things on the ground before she started to pack them up, “I’m sure Bell won’t be bothered going to Stony Brook the same day there happens to be a football game going on.”

Bellamy shrugged, his hair falling into his eyes a little bit while he picked up Aisling’s packed lacrosse bag. “Let’s go Ash, I’ll sit in the back with you to make sure you’re okay and O will be more than happy to ride shotgun, I’m sure,” he smiled at his younger sister. Octavia just answered her brother with a wide smile and ran off in the direction of her mom’s car while Aisling got sent off with well wishes from her teammates and coaches. 

After driving the half an hour to Stony Brook Aisling pulled out the SBU ID card her dad had gotten her for when she had to spend days at the stadium or training fields. She handed Aurora her card when they pulled up to the security booth and rolled down the passenger side windows while they waited for one of the security guards to approach them. “Hey Ted!” Aisling waved with her good hand while the older man walked up to the car. “Ms. Blake has my ID card! Dad’s expecting us,” she pointed to her arm that Bellamy still held tightly wrapped up in the ice pack. 

“He did call and tell me you’d be coming,” Ted laughed lightly before waving off Aisling’s ID card. “I’m sure Ash could direct you to the medical center, Sean called the orthopedist and he’s waiting for her.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of sideline tickets for the game. “He also left these, told me that someone would be very interested in watching the game.” 

Aisling reached out and grabbed the game tickets with her good arm, “see,” she waved them in Bellamy’s face. “I told you dad would let you watch the game!” She handed him the three tickets. “Now let’s go get this fixed because I also want to see the game!” She waved goodbye to Ted and started to direct Aurora to the medical center.

Bellamy watched with fascination as they drove around the football complex, his eyes clearly trying to take in everything they could. Being a sophomore in high school and a starting quarterback currently ranked twelfth for the position nationally, Bellamy already had coaches looking to begin the recruiting process. Those coaches included Sean Bryne. “I think it’s a bit much,” Aisling speaking snapped Bellamy out of his trance, “but that’s what Division 1 football looks like apparently,” she winced as they went over a speed bump.

Aurora pulled up outside the medical center and Bellamy got out first before rounding the front of the car to help Aisling out, holding her arm steady while she did. She felt the bones inside shifting and it hurt, really bad, but she couldn’t cry in front of Bellamy of all people. Instead she bit down on her tongue while the pair made their way inside the building. “Mark!” Aisling smiled when she saw the team orthopedist, he wasn’t at the university every day, but when he was, he usually showed Aisling pictures of his dogs. 

“What happened to you!” Mark gave Bellamy a thankful smile while he took Aisling’s arm out of the teen’s careful hold. “Your dad told me you’d be coming!” He led Aisling over to one of the many medical style tables in the large room, picking her up by her waist and setting her down. 

Bellamy followed behind the pair, unsure what he should do now that he didn’t have Aisling to actively take care of. “Is he here?” He heard Aisling ask while the man, Mark, unwrapped the ice pack and small towel from around her arm.

“No,” Bellamy winced when he heard Mark mumble the word. “His game is starting soon, but I promised I’d take care of you!” A younger woman walked out from a different room and Mark lifted Aisling up again and set her on the ground. “How about you go with Heidi and get an x-ray then we’ll fix you up!” He ushered Aisling toward the blonde woman.    

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

“I cannot believe you still have that,” Bellamy really needed to stop sneaking up on her. Aisling didn’t even flinch this time while she continued peeling her rings off her fingers, tucking each one back into the box it belonged in. The party had begun to die down and with assurance that Murphy had actually stayed sober, Aisling and Octavia didn’t feel too bad going to bed early so that they could be well rested for playoffs the next morning.

She felt Bellamy’s presence at her side and watched as he reached up on the top shelf of her dresser to pick up the smallest cast there. The purple plaster appeared to be old and dusty from all the time it had sat on display. She also felt oddly at ease with how comfortable he felt being in her space. There had never been an awkwardness in the air with the two while they moved about each other’s spaces. They were just able to easily exist together and function like a well-oiled machine. It was comforting.

“I kept all of them,” Aisling watched as Bellamy turned the small cast over in his hand, being careful not to pull apart the plaster that had been glued back together once Aisling had it taken off. She grabbed her second cast off the shelf, the one from a wrestling match with her older brothers that had gotten slightly out of hand. “Here,” she grabbed the purple one out of Bellamy’s hand.

She turned it over and pointed to a signature that had been signed in silver, right above where her thumb would have been when she had the cast on. “Oh my god, my handwriting was absolutely terrible, how did I actually do well in school,” he laughed lightly. 

“This one got a little better,” Aisling turned the second cast over in her hand, this one orange instead of purple, and pointed to Bellamy’s signature that had been placed in the same spot and written in the same color.  

Aisling braced herself on her dresser with her right hand while she placed both casts back into their places with her left. Her left forearm still had the scar that stretched from about three inches below her elbow to her wrist. After her oldest brother had practically snapped her arm in half, by accident of course, she needed to have screws put in to hold it together. “Won’t you miss things like this too?” Bellamy sat down on Aisling’s bed.

The girl in question didn’t answer immediately as she continued to peel off the jewelry that she had put on earlier that morning. She had never been one to dress fancy, usually being most comfortable in a pair of shorts or jeans and a tee or hoodie. However, Aisling did love to pair every outfit she wore with an abundance of jewelry. In her sophomore year her friends had started joking that she looked naked without any jewelry on. She always had the same earrings in, two diamond studs, her birthstone, in both earlobes and a helix piercing in her left ear. She also tended to wear the same necklace every day, but it could almost be guaranteed that she would never wear the same combination of rings or bracelets. 

“Of course, I’ll miss all the memories I have here, Bellamy.” Aisling rolled her eyes while she continued placing her jewelry into the appropriate bags and boxes. She wouldn’t be able to wear them for playoffs the next morning and opted to put everything back into her jewelry box. “You’re really starting to sound dumb now,” she finally turned around, her arms crossed over her chest. 

Bellamy leaned back on to Aisling’s bed, bracing himself on his forearms while his eyes raked over Aisling’s figure. She didn’t shrink under his gaze and instead opted to lean back against her dresser, her arm still crossed over her chest. She’d grown up with Bellamy, she knew too much about him to ever see him as intimidating. Sure, when she had been younger she never would have wanted to overstep any boundaries with him and his authority, but now, now they were on a level playing field. Aisling had recently turned seventeen, she didn’t have to listen to Bellamy anymore.

“Oh,” he tilted his head back to laugh. Aisling tried to avert her eyes from his neck, the tan and freckled skin stretching in the most inviting way. “I’m the one who sounds dumb?” He pushed himself upright, his feet planting themselves on the plush cream carpet that covered Aisling’s floor. His elbows came to rest on his knees, and he rested his chin on his folded hands. “Enlighten me then!”

Taking a moment to collect her thoughts Aisling closed her eyes and breathed in deeply through her nose. She didn't understand why Bellamy would pick the night before playoffs to start asking her the ‘deep’ questions. She really wasn't all that stressed about winning because she had a four-year scholarship secured, but she had a whole team behind her she couldn’t let down. She couldn’t let Octavia down. Octavia planned to commit to playing at Notre Dame for college, her commitment more or less depended on Arkadia’s performance in playoffs this season.

“Not everyone wants to stay home forever Bellamy!” Aisling hadn’t meant to raise her voice at the older boy, but she did. “I love Arkadia, I love all the friends I made here,” she sank down into the chair next to her dresser, “but sometimes you have to let yourself explore the world a little bit.” She felt her muscles start to tense up and tried to force herself to relax, she couldn’t be tight for the game tomorrow. “Not all of us turn down a D-One scholarship to stay home!”

“And not all of us have a rich dad or brothers who try to buy their kid’s happiness or sibling time because they’re never home to see her!” As soon as Bellamy finished speaking Aisling watched his eyes widen, his adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed. “Aisling I-”

“Save it, Bell,” Aisling stood up and grabbed a hoodie, pulling it over the tank top she had on before she also picked up her wallet and keys. She pressed the automatic start button and watched as the headlights on her ocean blue, Jeep Wrangler Sport lit up the driveway. “I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” She made sure to tuck her charger and phone into her lacrosse bag before slinging it over her shoulder. 

Bellamy stood up, his mouth opening but no words coming out, “seriously,” Aisling mumbled. “Save it for another day, Bellamy,” the door to Aisling’s bedroom closed behind her. “C’mon Moose!” He heard her call her family’s German Shepard along to follow her. Bellamy stood in the middle of Aisling’s room, alone; the carpet she had put down to cover the hardwood floors soft under his sock covered feet. He felt the guilt starting to crawl up the back of his throat, or maybe that was just the wave of nausea that had hit him already. Bellamy felt a stronger wave of nausea hit him and he quickly pushed into Aisling’s bathroom and found himself hovering over the toilet, waiting for the feeling to pass.

“Bell?” He heard his sister’s voice in the hallway and quickly pushed himself up off the floor, forcing himself to fight through the feeling that he would be sick any second. “Bellamy?” He heard Octavia call again, louder this time. He took a deep breath before stepping out into Aisling’s room again, Octavia hovering in the doorway. “What happened?” 

Octavia’s question hadn’t even registered in Bellamy’s mind before he brushed past her to get into the hallway. Aisling’s room felt suffocating all of a sudden, the scent of her perfume lingered in the air.

He could smell the coconut shampoo and conditioner she always used.

The pink sugar lotion she loved.

Icy Hot.

It was too much her, for him to handle. “Bellamy!” Octavia yelled this time. 

Like a bucket of ice-cold water had just been poured over his head; Bellamy took in a sharp breath before he turned to face his sister. “We need to find where she went!” He tried to push past Octavia who now stood in front of the staircase of the Bryne home, stopping her older brother from going anywhere in his panicked state.

“Aisling said she’d be back later,” Octavia spoke softly, like she would scare Bellamy away if she said the words any louder, “she told me to make sure we lock up the house before everyone goes to bed.”

Octavia’s words, however, didn’t register in Bellamy’s mind. All he could hear was the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat pounding in his ears and Aisling’s voice echoing in his mind.

[super-famicom-star-inactive]

Friday Special #13

March 12, 2021

Hello friendos, and welcome back to another Friday Special!

Since this is the infamous number thirteen, why not take a look into what is considered to be one of the most cursed video game franchises of all time?

For today’s topic, we will be focusing our attention to the EA Sports franchise of Madden NFL, perhaps the most famous football franchise of all time and how it spawned the notorious “Madden Curse”.

So let’s start with the franchise’s history.

The very first Madden NFL game was released all the way back in 1988 under its original name John Madden Football. It was named as such as EA’s Trip Hawkins approached John Madden himself in 1984, hoping to use his name and likeness to create a line of football games. Madden agreed only if the game be as realistic as possible to the actual sport, hence why it took four years to produce. Problems arose when hardware limitations would cause the systems to crash and it got so bad that they even hired Bethesda Softworks (yes, that Bethesda) to help with the project at one point, however they later quit after a year and a legal battle ensued between EA and Bethesda Softworks over the failure of producing new versions of the latter’s Gridiron! football game, which added on to the delay and production costs to make the game. The game John Madden Football was finally released on  June 1, 1988 for the Apple II, MS-DOS, and Commodore 64 and 128.

All of the pain that the development team went through paid off as John Madden Football (or Madden ‘88 as it’s known today for distinguishing itself) went to be a very popular title for home computers. It was so popular that it was released for the SEGA Genesis two years later. John Madden II was released back on MS-DOS in 1991 before going back to console with the Genesis, starting a trend where the games would be flipped back and forth depending on the market and consoles available. The last time that the games would be called John Madden Football would in 1992 as John Madden Football ‘93 was the last one. The reason for the name change to the famous Madden NFL name that we’re familiar with is because EA bought the rights to use official NFL teams and players.

Every single year since, like clockwork, a new Madden NFL would be released for the current generations of consoles and PC.

This would a rather normal sports franchise had it not been for the “curse” that surrounded the franchise since its very conception.

So when did the “Madden Curse” become a thing?

So in the early 2000s, John Madden retired from football, which left the door open for EA to see about making a few changes to the product design of their Madden NFL games, most notably being the cover art. In 2000, Eddie George of the Tennessee Titans was chosen for the cover of Madden NFL 2001, representing the new change.

Nothing to see here.

It wasn’t until the next year that things started to get a little spooky when Daunte Culpepper of the Minnesota Vikings was put on the cover of Madden NFL 2002. His career started going south when, after achieving 4,000+ yards 33 touchdowns and landing on the cover, suffered bad turnover rates, bad interceptions and lack of touchdowns before a back injury took him out in the 11th game of the 2001 season.

At the time it was seen as a coincidence.

Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick was featured on the cover of Madden NFL 2004. That following season, he fractured his right fibula during the game against the Baltimore Ravens. He then only played in the last 5 games after acquiring the injury which caused the Atlanta Falcons to lose enough games that they missed the playoffs, coming out of the 2004 season with 5-11.

The rumor mill regarding the “Madden Curse” started to gain traction but it wasn’t until the third incident when the media started taking it seriously reporting on it.

Shaun Alexander of the Seattle Seahawks was chosen for the 2007 edition of Madden NFL and, before being given that honor, had one of the best seasons as a player during the 2005 season with 28 touchdowns and 1,880 yards. After being on the cover however, his luck ran out when he fractured the 4th metatarsal in his foot causing him to miss six starts (he had only missed one out of 64 starts previously before his cover appearance) and missed the 1,000 mark for yards for the first time since the 2000 season. His stats continued to plumment until his eventual retirement. He has been quoted as saying “Do you want to be hurt and on the cover, or just hurt?"

The “Madden Curse” would kick in again for Troy Polamalu for the 2009 edition, who played for the Pittsburg Steelers at the time during the 2009-2010 season and suffered from a torn ACL, which caused him to miss the majority of the season. His counterpart on the cover, Larry Fitzgerald of the Arizona Cardinals, fared much better but we’ll get to his side later.

Two years later for the 2012 edition, Peyton Hillis was chosen because of his breakout season with 1,117 yards and 11 touchdowns in 2011. After his appearance however, in the next season, he only played in 10 games and started 9 due to several injuries such as a sprained hip, strep throat, and hamstring injuries. He ended the season with 3 touchdowns and 577 yards. 

The latest in negativity surrounding the “Madden Curse” was in the form of Rob Gronkowski of the New England Patriots for the 2017 edition. Gronkowski first dealt with a hamstring injury that caused him to sit out of the first few games of the season that progressively got worse as the season went on. A blow from Seattle safety Earl Thomas III pulled him out of the game and he never recovered enough to bring him back in to play. There is a positive end to the story in that his team the Patriots went on to win the Super Bowl LI that year so he had the honor of being the first cover athlete to win at the Super Bowl. 

Despite the mystery and fear surrounding the “Madden Curse”, there were several instances that resulted in counterexamples.

Larry Fitzgerald back in 2009 was picked to be on the cover alongside Troy Polamalu for the 2010 edition. Unlike Polamalu’s bad luck, Fitzgerald played in all 16 games and caught a league high of 13 touchdowns, naming him to the Pro Bowl. The “Madden Curse” did catch up with him a little as he suffered a rib injury that caused him to miss the Pro Bowl. 

For the 2013 edition, Calvin Johnson of the Detroit Lions was picked for the cover because of his stellar record All-Pro Season in 2011 with 1,681 yards, 16 touchdowns and another Pro Selection. Unfortunately, the next season was not as great as he admitted to playing with broken fingers (ouch). 

Tom Brady was selected for the 2018 edition representing the New York Patriots after Rob Gronkowski represented the same team the previous year. Brady had the honor of being the oldest MVP on record and 4,577 yards and 32 touchdowns as he led the Patriots to a 13-3, allowing another Super Bowl win. 

Patrick Mahomes is the most recent counterexample for the 2020 edition where he first suffered a dislocated knee in Game 7 of the 2020 season, remaining out for three weeks afterward. Despite the setback, he still maintained a decent season with 26 touchdowns and 4,031 yards before guiding the Kansas City Chiefs to winning Super Bowl LIV against the San Francisco 49ers 31-20, winnning the title of Super Bowl MVP.

When will the “Madden Curse strike again? Only time and fate can tell at this point. 

Thoughts From The Head

So I’m gonna be real with all of you, I never cared much for sport-themed video games besides the Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games series and Wii Sports. Sports is not really my thing. I do get fascinated, however, when stuff like this pops up because how much it impacted both the video game industry as well as the sports entertainment industry. For crying out loud, the media continues to hype it up every time an incident happens despite it being played off as a hoax. This “curse” in question has even made quite a few players weary of it, but there have also been others that have passed it off as a joke. It’s even gotten so serious that even fans have petitioned for their favorite players not to get picked, fearing the worst. 

Freaky stuff but that’s sports for ya.

So do y’all think about all of this? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Thank you for reading!