#it’s not a win because he didn’t come back to the avs but it’s not a loss exactly

[comphyjost]

ERIK JOHNSON DIDNT RETIRE 🥹🖤🥰

[readwritealldayallnight]

im on my knees begging for jealous Simon headcanons 🧎🏻‍♀️

The thing about Simon is, he really has no reason to get jealous when it comes to you, and he knows it

He knows there isn’t anyone else who could make you smile so much your cheeks hurt, no one else who could make you laugh until you claim you’re going to pee your pants, no one else who could make you feel as good as he does, in oh so many ways, because you tell him so

You tell him that those same feelings of being loved, understood, appreciated, and wanted, those very feelings that you make him feel each and every day, he gives them back to you a thousand times over

He knows when you look in his eyes and tell him that you love him, that there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he is the only one for you, and nothing or anyone could ever change that

You’re as smitten with him as he is with you

Still though, Simon does have eyes

And while the logical part of his brain is telling him that he’s got no reason to be gritting his teeth and clenching his fists underneath the table, he can’t help but grow more and more frustrated with the way Soap and Gaz continue to flirt shamelessly with you

To be fair, you had warned him that keeping your relationship a complete secret from everyone would likely result is moments where Simon would have to watch you get hit on, and simply have to grin and bear it

That didn’t mean it was any easier, watching his only best mates try and work their charm on you, all while he sits at the same table and watches you roll your eyes at their advances

“Aw, come on love, just one chance, s’all I ask for!” The handsome, young sergeant practically whines to you, cheeky grin plastered across his features as he tries in vain to convince you to let him take you out some time

“Pfft, ye’d be nothin’ but a waste o’ her time, Garrick. We wouldn’t even ‘ave to to leave base for me to show ye a good time, bonnie.” The Scotsman winks at you, pointedly ignoring the way Gaz elbows him in the ribs at his comment

Throughout the entire exchange, Ghost’s gaze has never left your face, watching every time you scoff and roll your eyes at the men’s antics, reminding himself that you’re his, and he is yours, and the two sergeants are nothing more than pains in both of your asses

Finished with your pitiful meal from the dining hall, you stand from the table with your tray gathered in your hands, flipping your hair over one shoulder as you look towards the men trying to win your affection

“Once again, gentleman,” you say to them, knowing that they’re listening to your every word and watching your every move. “I don’t fraternize with colleagues. At least not the Sergeants.”

The two men groan in feeble protest at the mention of their ranks, having heard this reasoning from you before

“Ach, what if I get myself demoted, lass? I ken I could do that, easy!” Soap teases you, only kind of joking

“Mmm, don’t think that’ll work.” You reply, beginning to slowly walk away from the group, but not before glancing over you shoulder to lock eyes with Ghost and add, “You might have to become a Lieutenant. Those are more my type.”

The two Sergeants are staring after you, slightly gobsmacked, while their Lieutenant hides an overly smug and satisfied grin beneath his mask, shielding the pride that spread through him at your words

“Shite, sounds like you might ‘ave a chance, LT.” Soap laughs, smacking Ghost across the shoulder in a playful gesture, thinking that the larger man would never actually pursue you, let alone sleep in your bed almost every night

It’s a few weeks later when you and the rest of the 141 are all out for drinks at a nearby pub however, when Simon finds his instincts growing stronger than his insecurities

Because that’s just it isn’t it? He’s not feeling insecure when he sees you walk towards the bar by yourself to order a new drink, at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you weave through the crowd in hopes of making a move on you

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches some tipsy idiot try and pretend he’s drunker than he really he is when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you, apparently feeling the need to put his hands on you as he apologizes

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches you shove the guy off, reading your lips he knows so well as you tell the guy you’re not interested, nor is he insecure when he knows the idiot won’t give up that easily, likely asking if you’re here alone before you point over to where the 141 have overtaken a booth in the back

No, he certainly isn’t feeling insecure when he sees that the man never bothers glancing back to the table, still trying to land a hand on your body somewhere, when Simon’s instincts take over, rising from his seat without a word to the men who glance his way and ask where he’s going suddenly

He’s acting on pure instinct as he stalks over to you, the crowd parting for his large frame to move by without hesitation, locking eyes with you just as he lands a massive skull gloved hand on the tosser’s shoulder, wringing him around to face him

Your would be admirer isn’t feeling so confident now when he’s staring up at a 6’4” wall of muscle donned in all black apart from the white markings of his skull balaclava

If he were a more jealous man, Simon might take more time to admire the way you can practically hear this idiot gulp over the loud sounds of the music, the way his eyes bulge out of his head and how he looks nearly ready to piss himself on the spot

But your man knows who he is to you, and so instead he shoves the geezer away, turning to face you as one hand lifts up the bottom of his balaclava, just far enough to swoop down and meet your lips in a passionate tangle of tongue and teeth, tasting the alcohol on each other’s breath and the desire in your systems, a kiss that says to everyone else watching, including the bewildered Captain and Sergeants gawking from across the room, that you are his and his alone

[withwritersblock]

The Fall of Home

~The Fall of Home by Los Campesinos!~

Author's Note: idk honestly it's mostly word vomit ngl Italics are flashbacks Summary: Nate wins the cup and needs his childhood best friend to celebrate with him Warnings: Swearing, implied smut, shouting Word Count: 3,990 Nathan Mackinnon x fm!reader

She sat on the couch watching the dying minutes of the Stanley Cup finals. She watched Nate push Gabe towards the bench, her heart beating hard against her chest. It was t0o close. Not enough to feel as though they had done it. The Avalanche jersey covering her frame had Mackinnon on the back. It was Nate’s old jersey from his first few years in the league before the Avs switched to their new ones. 

Her childhood best friend had done it as the last ten seconds of the game the puck was in the Avs offensive zone.

It was like watching in slow motion as she watched the bench itch with anticipation as the clock winded down from five seconds. The buzzer goes off and the entire team throws their gear everywhere as they cheer and scatter on the ice. Her hands cover her mouth as her eyes well up in tears.

It had been his dream since the second Nate realized what hockey was. She watched him pretend to lift the cup on the lake behind his house countless times. Now in mere minutes she would get to see it done in real life. Except it is on her TV. 

Her fiance smiled widely as he hugged her side. “The cups coming back to Scotia!” Daniel mumbled as he kissed the side of her cheek. She smiled politely as she stared at the screen seeing Nate on the screen.

Daniel didn’t know that Nate and herself grew up next door to each other or that he was her first kiss. Or the first person he called after he got drafted first overall. Or the fact that they act like they're in a relationship every time they see each other again. Cuddling, kissing, dinner with each other’s parents.

And sex. A lot of it.

Except Nate hasn’t been home in two years. His family has gone and visited him in Colorado instead. She visited him once in Denver and stayed with him, in the same bed. Except nothing happened between them because of Daniel. Daniel entered her life during a difficult time. It was two months before COVID really went rampant. They went COVID crazy and moved in together right when the lockdown happened. His idea.

Nate stayed in Colorado, despite many of his teammates using the time to visit and stay with their families. But she had Daniel. She didn’t need Nate.

Except she still missed him as the months progressed and the further they had time apart it was as if the feelings she had for him were getting less and less suppressed. But he had a new life, new people, new and better successes. Hell. He just won the Stanley Cup. 

She even had a new life. Sure, it was still in the same community she grew up in but she had Daniel and a life that she’s supposed to be happy about.

“Are you crying?” Daniel questioned, a small furrow in his eyebrows. She shifted her gaze towards him for a brief second as she blinked rapidly. She looked back towards the screen to see Nate get handed the cup.

“Cole Harbour, you got another cup!” the announcer shouted as Nate shook the cup in the air with a wide smile on his features. She hasn’t seen him smile so wide since he was drafted.

“It’s just-look at ‘em,” she was referring to Nate.

“Yeah, they’d deserved it from the beginning,” Daniel said as he stood up from the couch to get another beer. 

She watched as Nate handed it off to Jack Johnson, a player who’s waited over a thousand games to achieve this. She tilted her head back as she wiped the tear that fell onto her cheek.

~~~

It had been several hours later and multiple Instagram story reels that have kept her up as she watched the team celebrate. She remained on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand. Her phone screen lit up with a call coming from Nate. She furrowed her eyebrows harshly as his contact photo popped on the screen. It was a picture of them back in his Halifax days. He was kissing her cheek, sweaty and still in his jersey.

Pulling the phone to her ear, it was loud on his end of the phone. “Y/N!” Nate shouted, “I need you in Denv-ver, when I get there tomorrow!” he shouted. He sounded blacked out. She smiled to herself, happy to hear his voice. His voice was practically gone but it was still amazing to hear. “I need to see you, we’ve got to-to celebrate,” he slurred. 

“Ask me again tomorrow,” she said laughing, “Enjoy your night Nathan,” she said, getting ready to hang up.

“Wait! Wait,” he chuckled, “I’m sorry you couldn’t come to Tampa, I wanted you here so bad,” he explained, the words taking forever to leave his lips. “Bu-but you’ve got a fi-fiance,”

Her features scrunched together as his voice was rasped as he was fighting hard to get the words out. “What does Daniel have to do with-”

“Because-” he hiccuped, “Because he has you and I don’t,” he let out. Her eyes widened as the words left his lips. Her stomach began to do flips as the words played in her mind on repeat.

“Because he has you and I don’t,”

“Because he has you and I don’t,”

“Because he has you and I don’t,”

“Oh dude, come on! Give me the phone, Nate! Give it to me. We said no drunk calling!” Erik’s voice rang out on Nate’s end of the phone. “Sorry, Y/N. He’ll call tomorrow when he’s sober!” Erik’s voice was closer to the phone as he spoke.

“Oh okay,” she mumbled as the phone call ended. Her hand began to shake as she pulled the phone from her ear. What the hell did he mean by that? 

It was hard to take anything he said seriously because he was drunk, he probably won’t even remember calling her. She brought her wine glass to her lips as she drank it all in one swig.

She lifted her gaze from her lap to the sound of loud footsteps coming from her hallway. “Baby, we’ve gotta get up early for that thing with your parents tomorrow. Remember? Come get some sleep,” Daniel said, his voice groggy from probably just waking up. 

She met his eye, praying for an ounce of butterflies or a feeling in her chest that told her he was the one. Or the spark that everyone talks about when you meet your soulmate. But nothing came out of it. She took a deep breath as she nodded, “Yeah, I’ll-” she cleared her throat, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“So, things are pretty serious with him,” Nate mumbled as he messed with his fingernails, avoiding her gaze. She hummed as a reply as she avoided meeting his gaze. 

She was laying in his king sized bed in his apartment in Denver, contemplating on why she decided staying with him was better than a hotel. Because all she wanted to do right now was kiss him. It’s been three hundred and forty three days since she last kissed him and she missed the feeling of his lips on hers. 

“Why didn’t he come with you to visit me?” he asked, turning his gaze to her trying to read her features. She pulled her lips between her teeth as her eyes widened slightly. She took a sharp breath before looking towards him, her eyes landed on his bright blue eyes. His eyes were slightly swollen as he was recovering from a broken nose still from a few weeks back. 

“He doesn’t know that we’re friends,” the last word difficult to leave her lips, “He just thinks that I’m on a trip with friends to Denver to see a few games,” she explained. Nate fought off a smirk on his lips as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

“How’s your mom keeping that secret? If I remember correctly all our childhood photos together are all over the living room,” he said, raising his eyebrows. 

She chuckled as she inched towards him, slightly. “My brother decided to have four kids in the span of three years. So she replaced all of our photos with my niece and nephews.” 

Nate let out a huff of air as he shook his head, “I don’t envy him. Triplets, right?” he asked and she nodded.

“They’re adorable, but a handful,” she muttered.

She met his gaze as she took a deep breath. He smiled softly as he adjusted the pillow under his head. “Is he a Penguins fan or Avs fan?” Nate asked, referring to Daniel. It was common in their small community to be either a Pittsburgh Penguins fan for Sydney or a Colorado Avalanche fan for Nate. 

She scrunched her features together and Nate’s hand hit his chest like a fake dagger. “You couldn’t find an Avs fan to date?”

She rolled her eyes playfully as she laid onto her back, forcing her gaze to the ceiling. “You should get some sleep,” she muttered. 

Nate laid facing her still, admiring every detail about her. The way her hair laid across his pillow. The curve of her lips and the flutter of her eyelashes. “Y/N,” he let out barely above a whisper, his heart racing. She turned her head to meet his gaze. His eyes trail from her eyes to her lips. Needing to kiss her but he couldn’t. Nate was not one to make moves on someone else’s girlfriend. 

But this was Y/N. She was everything he’s ever wanted. Even down to the fake wedding they had when they were nine, it was the first time they kissed. They were nine, kisses at that age barely count but it was the first of many. 

She met his gaze, pursing her lips forward slightly as she watched his eyes flicker between her lips and her eyes. “He’s lucky to have you,” he let out finally. She smiled softly, “But I’ll beat the shit out of him if he hurts you,” 

“You would knock him out with one punch, he’s not very strong,” she muttered as he chuckled.

The next morning she was woken up by Daniel shoving her awake, “Wake up,” he mumbled as he began pacing in their bedroom. She rubbed her hand across her eyes as she was adjusting to the sudden touch to her body. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, shoving his phone into her face, she pulled her hand away as she stared towards the Facebook post that her mom shared early this morning. 

It was hard to read as his hands were shaking, “What-”

“What the fuck is this?” he asked again, dropping his phone onto her chest. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked over the Facebook post. 

The caption said  From the lake behind our houses to the big stage! Our family couldn’t be more proud. Can’t wait to see the cup in your hands this time! #GoAvsGo #NateDogg

She cringed at the wording but her breath caught in her throat as she saw the collection of photos she added. Each photo shows Nate with her family. Majority of them with Nate and Y/N cuddling cozy and even one of them with him kissing her cheek. “Daniel, I can explain,” she said as she began to stand up from the bed.

“How fucking long were you going to keep this a secret?” he accused as she dropped his phone onto the mattress. Her mouth opened as she tried to find words to say. There was nothing to say. “I mean his contact photo in your phone is him kissing you!” 

“Wait, you went through my phone?” she countered as she looked at her phone in his hands. 

“No, he called you and I saw the picture. I mean, is the jersey you wore last night his? Like off of his fucking back?”

“I never wanted to lie or keep it from you. What was I supposed to say? Oh by the way, my best friend growing up is now this super famous athlete, I never see anymore.” she expressed. 

“He’s not your best friend, all these fucking pictures your mom posted is you two looking coupley. This one is from a year ago when you were in Denver, I mean what the actual fuck. Have you been cheating on me?” 

“What no! Will you stop shouting and sit down and have a conversation?” she countered. He shook his head while taking a deep breath. He reluctantly sat down beside her on the bed, refusing to meet her eye.

There was silence for a moment, “Nate and I grew up beside each other. We were born four months apart, our parents are best friends. He was my first friend. We had a weird relationship,” she hesitantly looked towards him, he was still fuming. “We were never in  a romantic relationship but,” she let out a huff of air, “Sometimes it felt like we were?” 

“I haven’t seen him since the last time I was in Denver, and nothing happened between us. He knows about you and Nate would never even try anything,” she explained. He shook his head.

“So what? You guys have had sex?” he questioned. Her mouth clamped open and shut and he groaned. “I can’t believe you’ve kept this from me!”

“He’s my past, Daniel, he doesn’t matter!”

“But he was a huge part of it! And clearly still is! He’s called you like four times!” he let out as he stood up from the bed. “And you know what, I don’t want to be with someone who keeps such a massive part of their life secret. I’ll move my stuff out by tomorrow,” he expressed, furious. He took a hold of his phone and stormed out of the bedroom.

“Daniel!?” she called out. She let out a huff of air before switching her gaze to her phone that was now lying on the floor.

“You look at those fucking photos and tell me how to feel!” Daniel shouted again. “I can’t compete!” he said before he left.

She tried to feel something for Daniel leaving. Her body was stiff as her mind was racing with thoughts of Nate. Instead of Daniel. She was wrong. He does matter. He always has and despite all of the time apart, he was still so important to her. 

~one week later~

She laid in the bed that she once shared with Daniel. He moved out the next day from the apartment after several more fights regarding Nate. He took the ring from her finger and threw it out of the window. Y/N knows she should’ve told Daniel about Nate. It was easier having him be a celebrity in her life than someone she loved. Someone she loved in more ways than one.

She’s spoken to Nate every day since they won. He would call twice. Once in the morning to recap the drunken things he would say well into the night. His drinking slowed down as the weeks progressed but he’s been celebrating every day since. Each night he would call and beg her to come see him in Denver. Every night she would consider it until she would realize he was too drunk to remember. She’d always leave it out the next day they’d talk.

She laid naked beside him as she traced her manicured finger along his chest. Tracing each line of his muscle, each outline. His hand fluttered his fingertips along her skin. He would trace his index finger from the base of her neck in a zig zag to her lower back.

“When do you go back to Denver?” she questioned barely above a whisper. He took a few seconds to reply as he continued the pattern on her back. 

“Tuesday,” he let out, shifting his gaze from the ceiling to her. She lifted her head to look down towards him. She leaned down and pressed her lips against his softly. He lifted his other hand from his side and rested it onto her cheek. “This might be the last time I’m back here for a while,” he let out as he stroked his thumb across her skin. 

She raised her eyebrows teasing as she pecked his lips, “Let’s make the most of it then,” she muttered between kisses. He smirked into the kiss.

It was sensual and slow, something they’ve perfected over the years as if they know exactly what the other person wanted. Nate pulled away from her lips, resting his forehead against hers. “I’ve missed you a lot,” he said as his hand on her cheek moved to the base of her neck. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. Her cheeks heated up as she smiled.

“Me too,” she mumbled as he leaned towards her, kissing her.

She shook her head as her phone began to vibrate beside her, she lifted her phone up to see Nate was calling her. She took a deep breath as she put the phone to her ear. “Hi,” she mumbled.

“Come to Denver,” Nate said simply. His voice groggy as if he hasn’t spoken much yet. Pulling her head back against the pillow, she scrunched her features together.

“What?”

“I know you and Daniel broke up, I don’t know why you won’t tell me about it. But all I know is that I’ve been trying to see you because my dream has just happened and I want my best friend to be with me. The other half of this conversation can’t happen over the phone, so please come to Denver. Don’t make me wait till I bring the Cup home, please,” he let out as if he’s rehearsed it. 

She was stunned. Her eyes blinked slowly as she swallowed hard. “How’d you know about Daniel?” she asked, ignoring the rest for now.

“Y/N, our mother’s still live next to each other and they talk a lot. Come to Denver, I’ll book your flight. I just really need to see you,” 

“Okay,” she let out faster than how her mind could process anything.

“How fast can you get to the airport? I want to give you enough time to pack and get ready,”

~~~

She was walking through the airport in Denver trying to find Nate. It took about thirty minutes for her to find him sitting near the passenger pick up doors. He lifted his head, as if he could sense she was close to him. 

She stopped as she saw him stand slowly from his seat, shoving his phone into his pocket. He was glowing. It’s been over a year since she last saw him in person but her entire skin began tingly when she saw him as every moment between them played in her mind like a flipbook. 

Every kiss. Every intimate moment. Every conversation. Hockey games she wore his jersey to. Her graduation from university he flew from Denver to see. Their very first kiss at nine years old, their fake wedding. 

She walked towards him and he began walking towards her. Once they met, she let go of her suitcase and her carry-on bag and jumped into his arms as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he squeezed her tightly against his chest. He took a sharp breath, breathing in her floral perfume. Her hand rested on the base of his neck, running her fingers through the small pieces of his hair.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he muttered into her ear before she slowly pulled away from him, his hands remaining on her hips.

“I just spent way too many hours on two airplanes, don’t lie to me,” she muttered as she met his eyes. They were brighter as well as his smile. He was happier than he’s ever been. 

“Still beautiful,” he mumbled as he pulled her against his chest again. 

~~~

It had been a few hours since she got to Nate’s apartment. She had showered and got rid of the airport smell from her body and they were now sitting on his couch watching an action movie he had picked out. They were quiet but there was a looming tension between them. 

“What happened with Daniel?” Nate asked, keeping his gaze on the screen, trying to avoid looking towards her. She dropped her gaze to her lap, the conversation they’ve been avoiding.

“The day after you guys won the cup, my mom had posted something on Facebook,” she said as she let out a huff of air.

“I saw, it was nice,” he mumbled, Y/N fought off a smile.

“He felt blindsided because he didn’t know that we knew each other. Or knew each other that well and you had called a few times before I woke up and he saw my contact photo for you,” she paused again.

“He claimed I was cheating on him with you and he thought when I visited you in Denver that I cheated on him with you. He then threw my engagement ring out of the window and stormed out. Stayed with my mom that night so he could get his stuff out of my apartment,” 

“What the fuck? He threw your ring out of the window? That’s a dickhead move,” he said while shaking his head.

“I mean, not telling him about us was a dickhead move too, Nate,” 

“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell him,” Nate muttered, shifting his gaze to her. She tilted her head to the side as her lips fell into a pout as her eyes lowered to his lips before she met his gaze again.

“What did you mean when you said ‘he has you and I don’t’?” she asked him. His eyes widened as he pressed his lips together.

“You remembered that?” he asked. She nodded. “I’ve always thought one day we’d end up together, married with like four kids or something. I always thought one day I could convince you to move to Denver with me. Or after I retired we’d start a life together. But you started dating Daniel. I realized I waited too long. And I was going to go back to Halifax during those first months of COVID. But you were with Daniel, I couldn’t be around you and him. So I stayed in Denver.”

“And then he proposed and I lost my chance. I lost my chance because I wasn’t going to make a move on you when you were with him. So, I thought that if we stayed apart, I stopped visiting home, these feelings would just go away. It’s worse, Y/N.” he muttered as he scooted closer to her, forcing their faces to be near inches apart.

“I think sappy romantic stuff is bullshit. But Y/N, you’re my soulmate. I’m in love with you, have been in love with you long before I even knew what love meant,” he rested his hand on her cheek, “At fucking nine years old, I knew who I wanted to marry and seventeen years later I still know who I want to marry. It’s always been you.”

She delicately rested her hand on his chest as she smiled, “I can’t believe you did that math so fast,” she teased. He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Shut up,” he muttered before he pressed his lips against hers urgently. She returned the kiss quickly as she climbed onto his lap, straddling him as her hands were holding his cheeks.

“I was scared,” she muttered as she pulled away, “I was scared that you’d become this famous athlete and forget about me. So I pulled away,” she mumbled before pecking his lips. “I’m in love with you too.”

He smiled as he kissed her again. “Best fucking year,” he let out.

[dullgecko]

Near the end of senior year, Riz gets a part time job at the library (because, much to everyone else’s dismay, apparently he somehow thinks he’s still not doing enough). A big part of his job is tidying up the kids sections because he’s young and short so he’s one of the only ones in the staff team who doesn’t have to destroy their knees to access the shelves.

He thought he’d hate working in the kids sections - when he was that age, the kids around him were really awful to him. But apparently some new kids cartoon has a goblin main character that most kids absolutely adore and Riz gets a little overwhelmed by how nice all of the kids are to him (although that is a pretty low bar, given his past experience). He ends up getting involved in some of the holiday workshops and activity days that the library runs and he finds that he’s able to let his guard down in a way that he still sometimes struggles to do even around his friends. There’s even one goblin couple with a tiny four year old that starts showing up more regularly once they realise Riz works there and he starts picking up occasional nights of baby sitting for them which he also loves.

One time Riz saw one of the Applebees kids reading in a corner for a couple of hours before carefully putting some books about gender and being trans back on the returns cart, before taking out some random Helio books presumably as a decoy to give them an excuse to come back. Riz very quickly decided that no he hadn’t seen that, that was none of his business (but also being very happy that they had somewhere that they could go to figure things out). He wasn’t surprised when, just under a year later, Mordred Manor had a few new additions.

Sometimes Riz had to branch out into other areas of the library. After the kids section, his next favourite was the nonfiction, although he wasn’t allowed to do some of the higher shelves (using a step ladder required a “working at heights” training session that the library didn’t want to pay for - a couple of the newer gnomes and halflings had the same problem and they all thought it was ridiculous).

His least favourite section was the romance section. He hated the genre and the titles and the book covers which didn’t help. But really the main problem was that someone kept moving the books into the wrong order which meant that if you were put in that section, you’d be there forever just trying to get it right again.

He only starts working at the library after dropping most of his after school clubs. He's still in the AV club with Adaine, and on the bloodrush team, but the other ones all get tossed. His schedule was way too busy and the inconsistancy of it all was literally giving him nosebleeds from stress. At least working at the library looks fantastic on his transcript AND has consistant hours AND gives him access to stuff he might need to research his cases AND he's getting PAID. It's a win win win win.

Riz had NO idea there was a popular kids show with a goblin main character at first so he was very surprised when about half a dozen tiny kids, over the course of a couple weeks, started greeting him in Ghukliak. It was a simplified version of a greeting, with none of the subtones a goblin could make, but almost no one spoke goblin at all so he got thrown for a bit of a loop.

He actually watched a few episodes on his crystal on his lunch break when he found out about it and it was good. Well researched, not racist, the goblin characters actually had proper traditional clothes rather than rags which was wild to him. The character even spoke actual Ghukliak rather than random grunts and clicks, and the accent they had was accurate to where their hoard was supposed to be from. There must be actual goblins on the team that created the show. Hells, they even had an episode where the goblin character went to visit relatives in the chaos mountains and they kept the location of the nest 'secret' even to the viewers. A+ writing.

The show is stupid popular, they have a whole shelf of kids books with characters from the show going on adventures. Riz gets asked by the head librarian to help set up little displays around goblin holidays that are featured in the show and the kids are always incredibly excited. Honestly, Riz finds it super cute. Kind of wishes the show was around when he was little though because the kids who watch it are super nice to the goblin children who come to the library as well.

He hosts middle-of-the-night reading hour in Ghukliak for goblin parents to bring their kids to because the young ones still havent quite managed to swap their sleep schedules from nocturnal to diurnal and its not healthy to force it. The parents will sometimes organise a night for Riz to babysit all at once, so sometimes he'll have four to five toddlers running around that he's looking after.

His mom only lets him work a couple of night shifts a week because his sleep schedule is already disgusting but at least the library is super quiet (not many nocternal residents in Elmville after all) so the head librarian lets him do his school/casework unless people need his help. Sometimes underclassmen would come by on nights he was working late and ask for help with their schoolwork if he wasn't super busy.

[karlkapri]

Being a bitch about the leafs getting a dewey is immature. Sadposting and making little edits about how awful Toronto is? Fuck off. Just because your team cant make the playoffs dont blame the teams that can. We will love him on the leafs. Get over yourself.

okay so i normally delete these kinda asks without bothering w a reply because i honestly think they’re kind of tiresome & because i know you’re just being a fan and if i can forgive wild fans for being unreasonable about their team i then i can forgive leafs fans for it too. 

with that said: braindead take.

just. stupid. so stupid, in fact, that i will write a reply because i think it genuinely might make me feel a little better. 

okay so lets start right at the end. WHY should i get over the fact that a player i like is no longer on my team. why should it matter that you’ll love him. my team was sold of in little bits to teams i either don’t care about or actively root against. 

that?? sucks?? 

i care about my team. i want my team to win. i want my favourite players to stay on my team and when they don’t that’s upsetting. this is not a revolutionary concept.

also the way it all played out was kinda shitty. i knew we would likely lose duhaime, but after losing pat i thought we would maybe get to keep dewar. and when the deadline passed i thought we were ok. hell, even connor thought he was safe. and that he would get to stay with his friends. and then it turns out we lost him at the last second. and that’s fucking gutting. 

“we will love him in toronto” ok. even if that is true, my favourite toy was taken away and given to some other kid. i don’t care whether or not they’re happy to have him. i didn’t want to give him away. were you happy for the canes when bunting went there instead of coming back to the leafs??? no because that’s not how this works. i don’t want good things for the leafs i want good things for my team. i don’t want other teams to win i want my team to win

and that’s allowed.

encouraged even.

“sadposting and making little edits” ok this is fair and accurate and i might make it my blog title if you don’t mind. it is funny to me that you interpret that poem as being about how much the leafs suck and not about?? how being traded suddenly?? and your best friend being traded away?? sucks??? poems are funny things and don’t say anything definitively, so you are allowed to interpret it however you like, but i haven’t gotten any angry avs fans in my inbox yelling about my "duhaime sadposts"?

but ok! directors note & something worth keeping in the back of your mind when interacting w this edit and also all other dewar edits: 

This is not!!! About you!!! 

i am not trying to hurt your feelings!! i do not care about your team!! for the love of god please just unfollow my blog.

also. and this is pedantic but i want to say it because its been bothering me. you don’t get “A Dewey”, you get Connor Dewar. the deweys were a matched set and without duhaime on the same team what does that even matter. you don’t get “dewey 2” you get Connor Dewar. congrats! that's great! he’s wonderful. please treat him nice etc etc.

being a bitch about the leafs is immature and i will do a better job of tagging my anti-leafs posts from now on. ill even tag all of my dewey poems as anti leafs if they're this upsetting to you.

one final thing: the wild not making the playoffs is very much the fault of other teams and i absolutely could blame other teams for it. theyre better and they beat us and now we might not make the playoffs. again: that's how this works. i get your point though, its not the leafs´ fault the wild have been miserable this season but i reserve the right to dislike them either way :)

congrats on the cute little guy. i will miss him very much. and again: PLEASE unfollow.

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 29 - Behind the Music

Summary: What happens when Corroded Coffin stars in their first documentary?

Word Count: 986

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Boys Will Be Boys Shenanigans, Humor, tiny bit of angst, FOI references, Dustin Henderson is a little shit, semi-related to my fic Best Spring Break Ever

Note: OH GOD, ok I may or may not have taken liberties with this one. Maybe because my friends and I did a dumb ass thing like this when we were teenagers fucking around with a video camera. JUST...it's gonna be fine guys.

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"Do you guys want to help us with a project for AV Club?"

The entire lunch table stopped their conversing and turned their attention to a nervous Dustin Henderson.

"Oh no," Gareth scoffed. "We're not helping you with another nerd project like we did during Spring Break."

"It's not a nerd project!" Lucas protested.

"If it's for AV it's a nerd project," Dave said matter-of-factly.

“Whatever it is, I’m not driving you guys around again,” Eddie interjected, “the van still smells like old socks and cheese ball farts.”

“Ed, I think that’s just what the van smells like,” Jeff failed to contain his laughter.

“Come on you guys had fun last time,” Mike argued. “And this time you won’t even have to do anything except sit there, look cool, and talk about Corroded Coffin!”

It was like a record scratch, all of the hemming and hawing ceased and, instead, the older boys asked how they could help, all while the freshmen looked like the cat that got the cream.

Turns out the project was another scholarship thing--who knew that they gave out AV Club scholarships--to film some kind of amateur documentary.

They were sure was an easy win before they even filmed a single piece of footage.

"No one else is gonna do one about a garage band," he said confidently. "We just film you guys performing, maybe get some b-roll of you setting things up--"

"Alright," Eddie agreed.

"--and a few interviews where you share your pet peeves and darkest secrets." It was said with the utmost nonchalance.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah," Dustin grinned. "It'll win for sure. Corroded Coffin: The Ups, Downs, and Upside Downs of an Indiana Garage Band. Uh...the title is a work in progress."

It took bribery in the form of Claudia Henderson's Scotcheroo Bars before they finally agreed.

It happened over the course of two weeks; two cameras--one belonging to the Wheelers and one borrowed from the Hawkins High AV department--along with all sorts of equipment were toted all around Hawkins. Claudia even chaperoned them on a Tuesday night so they could get footage at the Hideout.

When all was said and done, and the documentary was ready, they all posted up in the Wheeler's basement with pizza, popcorn, and soda.

The freshmen each gave speeches before starting the projector, laughing along as the older boys heckled them.

"So without further ado," Dustin announced as they took their seats. "Behind the Music."

The video started off with hazy colors and sloppy B-roll, a title card courtesy of Will's artistic talents, and Lucas's narration about the most metal garage band in the state, and then immediately cut to footage of the band performing at the Hideout.

"Shit we look so good!" Gareth got to his feet and clapped immediately, then grabbed Dustin by the shoulders and shook him.

"Quiet, sit down!" The others shoved him so he would get back into his seat.

Over the course of ten minutes, they covered all manner of topics. From how the guys all met, to where they learned how to play, to how they chose their songs.

The basement was tense by the time they reached some more delicate topics; specifically, what the worst part of being in the band was.

"Eddie's a turd burglar," Dave sighed on screen. "Got a real stick up his ass...can I say ass?"

The video then cut to Eddie.

"Nobody listens to me," he whined. "I'm the oldest, the leader. Shit, I've been in the band longer than any of them have. This is my band."

Next was Jeff.

"He said that?" the younger guitarist scoffed. "He's one to talk when he tried to abandon the band and make it on his own a few years ago. Is he the worst member of the band? No, I think that's Gareth. He's our drummer and he can't even stay on tempo! Messes us all up."

It kept going and going, and as they watched each other absolutely lose it on screen, the members of Corroded Coffin all sunk into their seats in shame.

The screen faded to black and it was silent. So silent you could hear a pin drop.

Of course this was the perfect timing for Mike to shovel popcorn into his mouth.

Then soft strumming began; the screen faded into Eddie sitting outside of Hawkins High with his guitar, fiddling with it and then scribbling in his notebook.

"If it's so hard sometimes," narrator Lucas asked via voiceover, "why do you keep doing it?"

Gareth and Jeff entered into the shot from offscreen and Eddie's face went from concentration to joy seeing them. He waved them over and started talking animatedly. Dave was quick to join from another direction, immediately ruffling Gareth's hair as he reached them.

"Because of the music," Eddie answered in the voiceover, and then the scene changed to the shot of him in the drama room where he did his interview. "And because they're my best friends."

The basement suddenly got less tense, and the guys clapped each other on the shoulders.

The shot transitioned to Dave.

"I used to be a loser at my old school," he scoffed. "I had friends but...Corroded Coffin? I feel like I belong in this band. Belong with these guys. I haven't even known them for that long. That's gotta mean something."

Then Jeff had his own words of wisdom.

"I think I wanted to quit one time; when Eddie quit...it was hard, without him. And my dad said if I really wanted to make music work I had to work hard."

The scene switched back to the Hideout, in slow motion, as Jeff continued.

"Nothing good was ever worth it if it wasn't hard work. So yeah it's hard but we keep playing and keep fighting, and then someone farts and we laugh it all off and start over again.

The screen faded to black.

"Together."

[dubious-writing]

🖤 For whoever you're feeling.

🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation

This was too much power to give me anon. Sorry it took so long. Also I really hope you’re an hrpf fan because that’s what I wrote. If you wanted a pairing from a different fandom, message me again!

But until then: have 1,071 words of Dewvorce

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

They were supposed to have more time. As much as they could get their hands on, which they assumed would be plenty, would be enough.

Turns out it was nothing at all.

It was probably stupid of him, but he’d held out hope until the very end. Ignoring all the rumors and the questions from reporters and the looks from their teammates they think he didn’t notice full of a pity that was too early to acknowledge. Ignoring the extra large carry-on containing too many clothes for just a quick back-to-back trip. Ignoring the steely resolve in Brandon’s face hiding away the pain just behind it, the set of his eyebrows betrayed by the clench of his jaw. Call it stupidity, call it ignorance, call it naivety.

Call it whatever you like; if nothing else, the hope had been there until the very end, through everything. If nothing else, that bravery is something to be proud of.

Their time together had seemed endless, a long sprawling trail, untouched, built only for their feet to walk on, a red carpet rolled out into the future just for them. Now, their time together can be counted in only minutes, the seconds ticking by one by one in the ticking of the wall clock in this barren hotel lobby.

Connor knows the rest of the guys have already said their goodbyes, their well wishes, clapped Brandon on the back preemptively and promised to keep in touch. They’ve been doing it all week where they think he hasn’t been able to see, where they think he wasn’t watching. They should’ve known it was all in vain; where Brandon goes, his eyes follow.

So they’re alone, here, in this nondescript lobby, not another soul in sight. Even the receptionists at the front desk could sense what a private moment this was and made themselves busy in some back room. The only sounds are the ticking of the clock, the shift of Brandon's palm on the handle of his bag, the slight sniffle in Connor’s nose as he tries desperately to keep his emotions in check. It feels like his heart is being cleaved out of his chest, bits of broken bone and pieces of flesh spilling onto the tiled floor beneath them.

Finally, after an eternity and instant, after not nearly enough time at all, Brandon shifts his weight between the balls of his feet. He takes one tiny step back, raises his hand to rub at the back of his neck, tightens the grip on his suitcase. The Wild green sands of their hourglass have run out.

“Dewey, I gotta…”

And Connor knows. He knows. This isn’t something he can stop, this isn’t a game he can throw his body into trying to get the win for the boys. This was a loss he looked straight in the eyes and never saw coming. There have been a lot of those this season.

The worst part, he thinks, is that he really did think they had all the time in the world. And if you have all that time, what’s the rush in voicing things already known and understood, when you know you’ll have another chance at it later?

There are no more chances.

“Brandon, you– I…”

“It’s okay,” and Connor didn’t think his heart could break anymore, but looking at Brandon’s smile, the edges trembling and cracking, he thinks it may have been kinder to just stomp the fleshy pulp of it into the floor. “I know.”

He has always known, hasn’t he, all these years? 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

And that’s right, he will. Brandon was traded to the Avs, and the team was gonna be in Colorado tomorrow night anyways. Funny, how these things tend to happen.

Connor can’t bring himself to say anything, let alone a goodbye that would only feel inadequate, so he can only nod once, jerky, because he’s holding onto himself too tightly for it to look natural. Brandon’s jaw clenches again, the muscles in his cheek bulging with it, and nods back. He turns around, pulling his luggage behind him, the clack of the wheels hitting the seams between tiles echoing between them.

But… no. No, that can’t be it. An entire future, barely even started, still a fledgling little thing, weak and without its eyes open, smothered in its crib. Snuffed out in a matter of seconds with no effort at all.

And Connor knows he’s being a little dramatic here, that he will see Brandon again, that they will keep in touch, that neither of them are actually fucking dying (even if it feels like it, a little - a lot). But he can’t let that be it. It’s not fucking fair, and he can’t let that be it.

“Wait– Brandon!”

Brandon turns around too quickly to hide the wetness in his eyes, but it doesn’t matter because Connor’s are no better, and then it really doesn’t matter at all because both their eyes are closed.

As far as first kisses go, it’s fucking shit. Connor’s aim was off center, Brandon stumbling half a step back with the weight of a body crashing into his. Their noses knock and their teeth smash together beneath their lips. It tastes like blood and ash and despair, heartbreak and the death of the life they could’ve had if only they were able to get their shit together. But it’s also a kiss with Brandon - the only one he may ever have - so it has to be good enough.

Kissing your best friend, the guy you think you’ve been in love with for years, as emotionally stunted as you both are, right before he has to board a plane that will take him hundreds of miles away from you for what feels like forever, is not a good idea. As awful and terrible as the world is right now, it would probably have been more bearable if he’d never known what it was like to actually kiss Brandon, if he’d been left to wonder for the rest of his life.

But as Brandon’s bag clatters to the floor, as a hand worms itself underneath the hem of Connor’s jacket, as the other cups his jaw to tilt his head into a better angle, as the kiss softens into something less like anger and more like tenderness, he can’t bring himself to regret it.

[player1064]

guess who’s back again 😂 finding out becks wasn’t gaz’s best man at his actual wedding is so crazy to me how about carraville wedding and this time becks actually makes it and does a killer best man speech

I always under-estimate how much time I'm going to spend on these things bc like. it's after 11pm and my quick little best man speech drabble is 1.2k words long (and brentford lost to west ham :(((((((((. which is unrelated but still tragic)

---

Everyone at the table groans when once again their conversations are interrupted by the clink of silverware against crystal.

David stands up, grinning at the boos and calls for him to sit back down, and he raises his glass.

“Alright, alright,” he says, “now that we’ve sat through the soppy bollocks of the grooms’ speeches, it’s time for the main event.”

(Said ‘soppy bollocks’ had featured heart-warming lines such as “I ‘ave a lot more money than him so we all know there’s no question that he’s sticking around”, and “I only said ‘til death do us part’ ‘cause it didn’t seem as long a commitment as ‘til Manchester United next win the league’.)

“Main event were about two hours ago,” Gary mutters from a few seats down.

Next to him, Jamie bumps their shoulders together with a laugh and says “main event’s gonna be in our hotel room later tonight.”

This earns him a few cheers and wolf-whistles, which David stands patiently through, glass still aloft.

“So,” he says eventually, “Ever since Gary called me last week to tell me that he was getting hitched and that I needed to drop everything I was doing and fly back to England to come to the wedding, I’ve been trying to think about what my best man speech should be.”

There are some more boos from around the table, including from Gary, who says “Yer not my best man, you twat, I don’t ‘ave a best man. Too old for all that nonsense. ‘sides, this is a casual wedding, like.”

David gives a pointed look around the room: they’re in a posh restaurant in London that they’d had the good foresight to book out for the entire evening, partly so as not to cause a media circus and partly so that they wouldn’t have to deal with the judgemental looks that come when you’re the ‘loud table’ in the place.

“Yeah, very casual,” he says, one eyebrow raised, then turns back to the rest of the table and continues. “Obviously, Gaz was best man at my wedding a quarter of a century ago,” (some groans from everyone round the table at the reminder of how old they all are) “and he did an alright job at it. Speech was pretty funny, but we have to deduct some points from his overall score for failing to get with any of the remaining Spice Girls. Though I suppose now we know why.” He says the last part with a wink and a nod towards Jamie.

“It’s nowt to do w’him bein’ gay,” Jamie heckles back, “it’s ‘cause he was a skinny little Manc with curtains.”

Gary drops his head to the table in exasperation.

“It was the nineties, Carragher, we all had curtains,” David shoots back. “Anyway, I’m tryna think of some funny stories to throw in, or something sort of – salacious, maybe, but then I realise that’ll leave me with the shortest speech in history because Gaz was always so bloody boring. You all already know this – whenever we were away with England, or with United, there’d be the lads going out for a piss-up,” (down the table, Giggsy and Butty cheer), “and then there’d be poor old Phil and Gary, still at the hotel and in bed by nine.”

Phil looks around the table with a smile at that, like it’s something to be proud of.

“And as curious as I am about the stripper incident, I’m not Carragher’s best man,” (“yer not anyone’s best man!”) “so that one’ll have to be lost to the sands of time. Then I thought, well, Gaz may’ve been boring off the pitch but on the pitch he had quite the reputation, so I thought we could do a little poll. Show of hands, how many people in this room have been kissed – on the mouth – by Gary Neville?”

About a half the table raise their hands: most of Gary’s friends from United, and, horrifyingly, a couple of Jamie’s lot who he’d played on England side with over the years.

“You little slag,” Jamie says, looking at Gary with a shit-eating grin.

“He wasn’t always successful, I should say – I think the one time he tried to kiss Roy he almost got another broken nose for his trouble,” adds David, raising his glass towards Roy who nods in confirmation.

David chuckles, “aw, but Gaz has always had hopeless taste in men. Not that he fancied you, Roy, you weren’t tall enough. D’you know, I think he almost fainted the first time Ruud walked into the dressing room.”

“Oi! Y’can’t call that hopeless, I’ll have you know me ‘n ‘im –” he claps a hand over his own mouth, wide-eyed, when he realises that he’s just told a room full of his closest friends something he’d been managing to keep to himself for the last twenty years.

That earns him a few more hollers and wolf-whistles, and when they die down David is looking at him with his lips pressed together like he’s trying not to laugh, eyes twinkling with mirth.

“I was gonna go on to talk about when you first met Jamie, but I think we’d all much rather stay on this for a while longer.”

“Oh my God,” Gary says, resting his forehead to Jamie’s shoulder with a groan, “please just do your Jamie bit. What’s it gonna be, reminding everyone how I hate Scousers?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” David puts on his terrible Manc accent, and says “’Becks, why the fuck are they putting this Scouse kid in midfield one game and left-back the next?’ ‘Oh my god, Becks, I think Sven’s lost his mind, he’s putting me in centre-back and giving my spot to fucking Carragher,’”

“And then somehow, right,” he continues, “somehow, it becomes ‘Becks, I were his captain, d’you think I should go say somethin’ comforting,’ and ‘if e’s takin’ my place while I'm out I should talk to him, right? Is it weird if I go talk to him?’, and once, when he was very very drunk, ‘I’d let ‘im tackle me any time, d’youknowwhatImean?’”

Gary, who doesn’t remember that last bit at all, feels himself flush with embarrassment at the thought of saying something so complimentary about his new husband. Said new husband reaches up to ruffle his hair before burying his face in it, fondly muttering “you are so pathetic” as he does.

“Anyway, all that to say that it wasn’t much of a surprise to me, when a few years ago I found out that the two of you had started hooking up.”

He holds his glass up again, waits for everyone to mirror him. “Jamie,” he says, “I think Gary’s finally met his match in you, so cheers to that. And Gaz… I’m sorry I never made it to your first wedding, but I’m glad I could be here for your last.”

“Dunno about that,” Jamie heckles, wrapping an arm around Gary’s shoulders in a tight squeeze, “might trade ‘im in for a younger model when ‘is hips go in a few years.”

For his sins, Gary curls a hand at the nape of his neck and pulls him into a rough kiss.

Through the cheers and laughter, David finishes with “to the happy couple! May you spend the rest of your lives tormenting each other instead of the rest of us!”

[sergeifyodorov]

calle, mikko and eichel for the send me a character ask thing >:)

hehehe taylorrrr <33

i confess im terrible at remembering my first impressions so thats gonna be the least filled out part but lets get INTO it

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Cale: “Everyone has been talking about this man’s rosy cheeks and -- wow, he really does have rosy cheeks”

Mikko: [vague absorption of names you hear when you’re watching a game but you don’t know what’s going on][oh yeah that mikko rantanen guy is an av]

Eichel: “The guy who’s kind of bitchy”/ lbr it was mceichel slashfic

IMPRESSION NOW

Cale: Sweet little rosy-cheeked milkmaid of a babygirl. That hair looks like a baby bird. Dude is a nerd, and probably going to be the Avs’ next captain. That Conn Smythe run was memorable as hell, and I’ll always remember him as a playoff performer, even though the Avs are literally all hurt. Except Mikko.

Mikko: HART 2023 WINNER IN MY MIND. For some reason to me (ngl, my opinion on the Avs is ��favourable but I don’t think about them”) he is the only Av who played the whole season -- he carried the entire fucking team through that early-season hell where everyone was really really hurt, as opposed to only mostly hurt like they were in the back half (plus Natemac was back). All this has cemented to me that he is an underappreciated big beautiful blonde moose of a man. Great tits as well if i have to be honest.

Eichel: My bitch wife. Mad respect for being apparently the only hockey out there who knows how to take care of his body (i see u going right down the tunnel when somethings wrong instead of trying to tough it out on the bench. Yesssssss). Robbed of the Smythe. People keep trying to say that he’s not better than McDavid -- this is obvious, but that’s not the point! Also I think it’s funny that that attitude (read: self-respect) has caused people (sabres fans) to note him as a locker-room cancer. It turned out that it made him a playoff performer instead. Not that I want VGK to win more Cups (for purely petty reasons, namely that my leafies should win out), but I do look forward to seeing him tear up the playoffs from here to kingdom come. Also, he’s not objectively handsome but i want him carnally.

FAVOURITE MOMENT

Cale: Just watching him skate/man the power-play. His edges are gorgeous, he’s really in the top tier of pure skaters out there. Also the Stroopwaffel Incident

Mikko: Hm. Probably that one media where they had Avs do the heart hand thing and he didn’t understand it? Himbo supreme. Just so large, and so beefy, and so stupid

Eichel: Do I really have to say it?

IDEA FOR STORY

Cale: He is the barmaid that the cowboy (natemac?) sees when he enters the mysterious Old West town’s saloon for the first time. He’s got this sort of quiet demeanour that everyone knows not to mess with, because he’s smart as a whip and he’ll get you if you don’t know what’s good for you. Maybe it turns out he’s also the rival gunslinger and we can have this Dark Cale against nate. (and then they kiss)

Mikko: Equal parts romcom boyfriend and werewolfcore. Werewolf boyfriend. I’m sure there are no paranormal romances with a plot that can be established in this manner

Eichel: I’m still on the mceichel train I prommy but I admit the eichel section in scheherazade was really quite fun… I’d like to stay a little bit in that universe, only not plunking auston in just having him already be there. The eichelston teammates to ex-teammates to teammates again to lovers. They could be gossipy haters together. They could kiss under the moonlight. 

UNPOPULAR OPINION

Cale: I think this new failgirl era (questionable concussion treatment) is a dangerous trajectory for him. We’ve already seen many, many NHLers with promising careers interrupted or cut short by concussion mismanagement, and Cale is one of the best and brightest of the younger generation. I’d hate to see him go down the path of someone like Kariya.

Mikko: HART 2023 WINNER IN MY MIND!!!

Eichel: I’m not sure if eichelthirsting is unpopular or not (or if any of my opinions are unpopular really), but that is what i’m going to say. I saw pictures of him post-Cup with his shorts rolled up all the way and that leg exposed to get the Cup tattoo, and. Awooga. 

FAV RELATIONSHIP

Cale: Cale x a good nights sleep, cale x stroopwaffel. I think natecale is probably a pleasing one, just because they’re both Canadian Weirdguys, but i’m going to be honest I haven’t read many Cale fics. (Yes, to anyone who might b reading, this IS an opportunity to drop your fic recs in here. Id love em)

Mikko: Arsirane, I don’t have time for messing around

Eichel: McEichel, just because of that juicy juicy Narrative. They don’t have any personal beef with each other, but if you lock them in a room I bet they’d complain to one another so much about the media that they’d start spontaneously kissing. 

FAV HEADCANON

Cale: ex-emo kid. We’ve all seen that one photo of him with the bad black hair dye job, whether it’s real or not. I would just like to state that I also believe he can bust out I Write Sins Not Tragedies on the karaoke machine if he is JUST this side of drunk and horny enough.

Mikko: Reportedly funny, but probably the kind of funny where about half the time he doesn’t realize that what he’s said is hilarious, but everyone else laughs at it anyway (he doesn’t mind this. It’s a point of pride)

Eichel: im gonna vote him Most Likely To Kiss His Teammates Platonically On The Mouth 2k23

[laurenairay]

I posted 4,576 times in 2022 (as of 8th Dec)

754 posts created (16%)

3,822 posts reblogged (84%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@antoineroussel

@laurenairay

@jostystyles

@senditcolton

@himbos-on-ice

I tagged 4,050 of my posts in 2022

Only 11% of my posts had no tags

#queue - 2,734 posts

#asks answered - 372 posts

#my writing - 290 posts

#😍😍😍 - 242 posts

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#erik johnson - 121 posts

#nico hischier - 110 posts

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

time to come together - E. Johnson

The second of five fics to celebrate The Avs winning the Stanley Cup!

Word Count: 848 words

A/N: this man is the toothless love of my life and I am so happy he didn’t retire last summer. Can’t even contemplate that right now because he deserves to be a stanley cup champion so much!

See the full post

200 notes - Posted June 27, 2022

#4

Walk in the Footsteps - N. Hischier

Summary: Pregnancy changes everything and nothing, at the same time. Juliet and Nico Hischier figure that out as they go along.

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: soft sappy sweetness, Dad!Nico, pregnancy, a little angst.

A/N: this one was inspired by the gif of Nico holding a baby that I had a mild meltdown with @antoineroussel​ about, all those weeks ago. Demi, this one is for you and I hope you love it as much as I do.

Title is from From The Ground Up by Dan + Shay.

Also tagging @tippedbykreider @matthewtkachuk @broadstbroskis @stars-canucks @tysojost @sorryjustafangirl @thebookofmags @jostyriggslover96 @starshine-hockey-girl @hock-ee @jostystyles @cozynightscandle @senditcolton​ @texanstarslove​ @fallinallincurls​ @newlibrary​ @chara-hugs​ @ilyasorokinn​

See the full post

216 notes - Posted April 6, 2022

#3

she’s got a sunshine smile - T. Jost

Summary: You met Tyson on the first day of freshman year – but now that senior year has started, is time running out to be anything more than friends?

Word count: 14.1k

Warnings: college au, pining, idiots to lovers, slow burn, some bad language.

A/N: This is my entry for @antoineroussel​’s​ winter fic exchange 2k22 for @ghostyjosty​​! Emmie, it was a joy to write for you - I had so much fun with the college au element, and I hope I included everything you asked for that we discussed. I hope you enjoy this! 💙

Title from Sunshine Smile by Adorable.

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255 notes - Posted January 9, 2022

#2

afraid to know the answer - B. Boeser

Summary: Being friends with benefits with Brock Boeser has a lot of perks...most of the time. Malia finds out the hard way what that means.

Warnings: fwb, oblivious dumb Brock, pining, implied smut but no actual smut, a slow digression into anxiety.

Word count: 9k words

A/N: Title from True by Ryan Cabrera

As @antoineroussel​ said, “we love a dumbass even if they unintentionally break hearts” – and thank you so much for all your help with this one Demi! Also tagging @danglesnipecelly​ and @matthewtkachuk​ as I know much both of you love Brock too 💛 

This has been a work of absolute love, so I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!

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260 notes - Posted June 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

This is Trouble - T. Seguin

Summary: You and Tyler had the perfect casual relationship – why mess up a good thing?

Word Count: 2.3k words.

Warning: casual smut implied (no smut scenes), discussion of intimate acts, some bad language, pining, fwb to lovers.

A/N: inspired by Sleeping with a Friend by Neon Trees, as well as the many half-naked gifs of Tyler Paul Seguin floating around my dash right now. Especially that delightfully-muscled back.

This one is for you Em 😘 @texanstarslove​​

Also tagging @antoineroussel​ @tippedbykreider​ @broadstbroskis​ @denis-scorianov​ @sorryjustafangirl​ @starshine-hockey-girl​ @hockeyunits​ @myhockeyworld87​ @2manytabsopen​ @mattyseggy1991​ @jostyriggslover96​ @thebookofmags​ @newlibrary​ @fallinallincurls​ @marcoscandellas​

And why mess up a good thing, baby? It’s a risk to even fall in love. So, when you give that look to me, I better look back carefully, ‘Cause this is trouble, yeah this is trouble.

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331 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review ���

[taixju]

Luxuria

CONTENT/WARNING: camboy!taiju x virgin!reader, porn au - literal porn without plot, degradation + praise kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, oral sex (m + f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex

NOTE: yeah idk what happened to me — I swear I get possessed everytime I write for this man LOL

You sit on the stiff couch, shuffling nervously every so often to adjust the flimsy material of lingerie that the man named Koko so adamantly insisted that you wore. The legal paperwork you half-assedly signed meant you didn’t really have a say in what you’d be wearing for the shoot. Not that you were really complaining — cause who ever got the chance to fuck their favorite porn star?

You entered the Fuck a Fan sweepstakes on a whim, not really giving it a second thought because you didn’t even think you’d win. So imagine the look of surprise on your face when you opened the email from Red Dragon Productions saying you were their lucky winner. And maybe, lucky you were. TheSonOfGod never fucked other actors. His specialty was always dirty talking solo vids. So when you first came across the opportunity to fuck TheSonOfGod himself, you entered the drawing without a second thought. And right now, you weren’t regretting a single second of it.

“Well shit,” the large man standing in front of you, greedily drinks in your appearance. The company insisted that now was the time to break his solo video record and because of his contract, he begrudgingly agreed to participate. He thought this would just end up being a quick bang for a buck. But the one thing he wasn’t anticipating was for you to be so fucking hot

His eyes roam unashamedly, taking in your perfect figure — especially the nice rack of tits you had going on. He can’t hide the hitch in his breath when he asks you if they were natural and you said yes. He couldn’t control his thoughts, all the nasty shit he wanted to you, like slipping his cock in between the plump flesh he couldn’t keep his eyes off of — fucking your tits until he finished on your face. Any sense of self control he had left, was gone when you looked up at him quizzically, your face stricken with absolute innocence. 

Innocence that he was gonna fucking ruin today. 

“Come ‘ere,” he grabs your face, the motion of his palm gently curving along your jawline making your mouth involuntarily open. His touch is ticklish and it gives you goosebumps. The way the rough calluses scattered along his thick fingers splayed across your sensitive skin, make you shiver.

You’ve never been touched by a man before and yet here you are now, feeling the weight of your inexperience. But the uncertain yet pure look in your eyes turns him on even more.

“H-hold on,” you grab his wrists, your fingers barely wrapping around the thickness of his arm, and pull away to catch your breath. 

“What’s wrong?” He immediately pulls away but continues to cup your smaller face in his larger hands. His thumb caresses your cheek comfortingly as he searches your face for any sign of discomfort. You stare back, admiring his beauty — the way his highlighted hair falls down in strands in a curtain around his handsome face, the way a thin layer of sweat makes his muscles shimmer in the dim light and the way his cheeks are flushed in a light pink blush. 

“I-I-…” you hang onto his arms, afraid that he’d let go as soon as you told him the truth. Cause let’s be real, why would Japan’s top AV actor want to have to deal with a virgin. He wouldn’t, you think to yourself.

“Mister Son of God-“ 

“Taiju,” he corrects, smirking at your nativity — how could someone like you be so ready to fuck a man you didn’t even know the name of?

You feel your blood rush to your cheeks, as you repeat him, his name slipping off the tip of your tongue with ease. You’re so nervous that you swear he can hear how fast your anxious heart is beating.

“There’s something you should know.”

He raises a perfect brow, looking at you expectantly. You take a deep breath. He was going to find out sooner or later.

“Thisismyfirsttimehavingsex,” the words leave your mouth in a rush. 

Did he hear you correctly? Were his ears deceiving him or did you just admit to being a goddamn virgin. 

Christ, he was going to fucking break you. 

You look up at him through your false lashes, unaware of all the filthy thoughts of how he was going to defile you, racking through his perverted brain. The large bulge growing in his jeans draws your attention away from his face and you unintentionally break eye contact with him. He was fucking massive. And he was going to fill you up, all 8 fucking inches, you recall after stalking his PornHub profile. 

Taking you by surprise, he pulls you towards him assertively, sloppily mashing his lips against your own in a heated kiss. 

His tongue invades your mouth, making you groan. Was this how all kisses were supposed to be? None of your ex’s ever kissed you like this. The beauty in the way he held you so gently as he roughly sucked on your bottom lip, and the loud slurping sounds that filled the small casting room, caused by your tongues twisting and turning against each other, left you feeling drunk on every caress; every tickle of a kiss; and every single goddamn crusade along your body. 

He pulls away, tugging your lip with him, sucking on it harshly before releasing it with soft pop.

“You gonna make this easy and be my obedient little girl?” He grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him, “Hm? You gonna listen or am I gonna have to make you?” 

Unsure of how to answer, you nod shyly. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, before pinching the flesh of your cheek.

 “Yes, what?” 

“Ah-..! Yes, daddy,” you whine, reaching up to cling onto his arm.

“Daddy, huh?” He chuckles darkly. For a virgin, you sure were fucking dirty. But he could work with that.

“Get on your fucking knees,” you slide off the cushions of the leathery couch, immediately slinking down onto the ground.

“Fuck, ‘atta girl — open your mouth,” he wedges his thumb between your lips, pulling at the corner of your mouth. His face is emotionless except the dark brow that twitches as he watches your tongue twist to the side, lapping messily at his knuckle. 

Suddenly, a sharp sting strikes you across the cheek. Tears burn at the corner of your eyes as you realize what just happened. He grins sadistically, before delivering another slap across your other cheek. 

“That hurt?” 

You whimper — too stunned to even answer his question. Drool begins to droop from the corners of your mouth, drenching your lap with your own saliva. 

“Daddy asked you a question, doll.”

“I’ hurr’,” his thumb mumbles your words, “N-no mo’e — p’eash!”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk—I knew you were stupid. But I didn’t think you were fucking liar too,” he twists your face towards the camera, 

“Look at yourself. ,” he shoves his ring finger down your throat, the heavy metal of his ring hits the roof of your mouth, making you gag, “What’s the matter you fuckin’ perv?” 

His filthy words made you wet and there was nothing you could do to fight back. How humiliating. 

“Oh fuck,” he groans, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head as you struggle to take, yet another finger. “Bet you’re wishing it was my cock you were choking on, hm? Fuckin’ slut.” 

His fingers slip from your mouth with ease, clearing your airway so that you could breathe. Immediately his hands make their way to the band of his pants, fumbling to unbuckle his belt, before undoing the buttons of his jeans.  His cock springs out, slapping his chiseled lower body with a heavy thump. His videos did his cock no justice — it was thick, its sides ribbed with veins, and much, much, much bigger in person. 

“Like what you see?” he smirks, giving his dick a firm pump, coating its seemingly never ending length in your saliva from his damp fingers.

Despite never giving a blowjob before, you can’t deny the feeling of wanting to swallow him whole, your mouth instinctively watering as you lean forward to get a better look. He lets out a breathy chuckle, seeing that you were just as excited to suck on his cock as much as he was desperate to fuck that pretty mouth of yours.

“Open up,” he taps the entrance of your mouth with the tip of his cock, smearing your lips with his precum gloss, before you obediently follow his instructions. Slowly, you part your lips, immediately tasting the salty flavor of his cock, as it stretches your virgin mouth.

You do your best to follow the blowjob tutorials you watched on PornHub in your free time — tucking your lips to cover your teeth as you welcomed his fat cock into your mouth. 

He groans, tangling his free hand in your locks of hair, gripping hard as he thrusts forward, not giving you any time to adjust to his large size. His hips snap after every harsh thrust, heavy balls slapping the bottom of your chin due to his vigorous pace. And just when you think it’s not possible for you to take every single inch of him, he pulls your head towards him, forcing his cock all the way to the back of your throat, and with the sudden intrusion, it’s hard not to gag when he finally bottoms out. 

“You sure you’re a virgin, Princess?” He pants, never slowing down his pace, “You suck cock like a —oh fuckkk just like that, baby.”

He rests his hand on his lower hip, leaning back to admire the way his shaft disappeared between your shiny lips. You press your hands against his muscular thighs, gripping onto the jean material as you feel the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat once more, now beginning to get used to the foreign intrusion. 

“Gonna cum,” he groans, reaching down to massage his balls, “Gonna cum — I’m gonna fuckin’ cum, Princess. I’m gon—ah— you okay with swallowin’?” 

You nod, doing your best to keep your mouth wide open, stretching your jaw as far as it would go, as you encouragingly bob your head up and down. 

“Fuck—if you keep doing that, I’ll—ngh!” He grips the back of your head, forcing you all the way down, making you gag as his cock twitches, fulfilling his promise of emptying his load thick down the back of your throat. 

“Shit,” his head rolls back, gripping your hair to keep you in place as he comes down from his high. His breathing is raspy and ragged, as he takes in your messy yet beautiful  appearance — the way your fake eyelashes hang on to your damp lids for dear life; the way your eyes fail to blink away tears as they run down your mascara stained cheeks; And his absolute favorite, which he swore to commit to memory, was the way his softened cock slipped from your lipstick smudged lips as a mixture of saliva and cum dribbled down your chin. 

“Get up,” his command is dark and assertive, making it clear that he wouldn’t be tolerant of any disobedience at that moment. He bends down, hooking his arms under the back of your thighs and stands back up, lifting you into his arms with ease. 

A small gasp leaves your lips as he tosses you gently onto top of the couch. His knee dips down into the cushion as he leans forward, grabbing one of your kneecaps in each hand as he harshly tugs them apart.

“Be a good girl and keep your legs spread, hm?” His hot breath tickles your inner thigh, as he slips your panties to the side.

“So wet,” he looks up at you through hooded eyes. 

What he really wanted to do was fuck you right then and there, fill you up with cock and bang your pussy like those fuckers did in the hardcore shit. But he knew better, there’s no way you’d be able to take all of him as a virgin. He’d have to prep you. 

“Tell me, baby,” he runs a digit across your clit slowly, gaging your reaction, “You play with yourself when you watch my videos?” 

“…Y-yes,” you admit, covering your face, embarrassed by your admission, “S-sometimes…”

“Yeah? You pretend these—” he brings your middle fingers to his lips, sensually sucking them into his mouth, “—are my cock?”  

You nod, feeling your hole painfully clench around nothing, wishing in that very moment that he’d stop teasing you and take you already. 

“You mad, Princess?” He grins, enjoying the look of frustration on your face as he trails his finger along your folds, making sure to coat it in your warm slick. The action alone is enough to send a shiver throughout your entire body, your insides clench with overwhelming pleasure as his ring finger slowly sinks into your cunt. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, before reaching down to play with your breasts, showing him that you weren't going to pussy out, that you were intending to go all the way.

“Y-Y’sure you’re TheSonOfGod?” Your voice drips with a patronizing tone, as you lift a leg, pressing the ball of your foot teasingly against his cock, “I signed up to get fucked and here you are blue balling me.”

He scoffs at your sudden confidence, but his cock says otherwise as it pulsates at your touch.

“Getting hard from my foot?” You can’t help but giggle, giving him a taste of his own medicine. “That’s disgusting, you perv.” 

He brings himself closer, pushing your leg away as he inserts another thick finger, “Says the woman who’s soaking wet from gagging on this cock.”

You gasp at the sudden fullness, gripping onto his broad shoulders, praying that it would help to keep you grounded in some way.

“Looks like you’re getting off of this too, hm?“ His upper body is tall enough that he still towers over you despite resting on his knees.

You mewl, feeling his tongue dart out and tickle your earlobe. Wet sounds overwhelming in every sense, so much that it's beyond hard to focus on anything. 

“Virgin my ass,” he hisses into your ear, “Either you’re good at playing pretend or you’re just a fucking slut.”

The pace at which he pumps his fingers in and out of your cunt increases, hitting your g-spot every single time. The arch of your back is inevitable when the feeling of being fingered is almost too overwhelming.

“Looks like the latter is about right,” He chuckles, seeing your eyes flutter drunkenly as the back of your head hits the wall, “ S’my slut gonna cum, hm?” 

He watches you closely, his greedy eyes never leaving yours, as he dips down, his head making a teasing pause — lingering dangerously between your legs. His lips barely touch your cunt, but he’s close enough for you to feel the tantalizing tickle of his hot breath fan across your pussy. That alone is enough to make you see stars. And suddenly the agonizing wait is over when he dives down, digging his tongue into your wet folds, showing how fucking  hungry he was for you — lapping at your cunt and savoring it’s sweetness. Your toes clench, digging into the black leather, as his flattened tongue flicks up before pressing against your clit. 

“So impatient,” he drawls,, amused by the whiny tone in your voice, “You sure you’re a virgin, Princess? This hole of yours is sucking me in so eagerly.

“Ohmygod Tai,” you dig your fingers into his blue highlights, feeling embarrassed, realizing the intimacy of the position the two of you were in, “Don’t be so mean.”

“Don’t be shy now,” his thumb rubs circles around your clit, making your hips hump upward, “Not when you voluntarily entered this contest, baby.”

His breath hitches, his cock hardening even though he just came, watching you reach down to spread your wet folds apart, giving him the perfect view of your puffy, hooded clit. 

“Did you play with yourself like this,” he pants, leaning down and accepting your invitation as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking softly before massaging the tip of his tongue around the sensitive bud.

“Imagining all the ways I’d fuck you,” he groans, his fingers slip from your entrance as his tongue quickly takes their place, fucking your quivering hole with the skilled muscle. You can’t help but squeal at the sudden warm intrusion but he holds you down, pressing his large palm across your tummy as he devours your cunt. He closes his eyes, losing himself in your sweet taste, not caring that the tip of his nose begins to roughly dig against your clit every time he aggressively scoots forward, wanting nothing more than to get closer to you. 

“Taiju—please, I’m gonna cum if you don’t—“

“Cum for me,” his fingers curl again deliciously, making your vision go black for a few seconds. A warmth spreads from your lower belly, permeating throughout the rest of your body in sporadic shivers. Underneath it all, you feel Taiju slowly pepper soft open mouthed kisses along the insides of your trembling thigh, while his fingers continue to pump in and out of your cunt, allowing you to ride out your high. It isn’t until you open your eyes that you realize that you orgasmed from his tongue and fingers alone. 

“Holy shit,” you gasp, blinking away the stars in your vision.

“That good?” He hums in amusement, placing another kiss along your sensitive clit, making you jump.

“Mhm,” you nod absentmindedly, noting your voice is raspy from all the screaming.

“We aren’t finished yet,” he wraps his arm around you, lifting your limp body, and effortlessly laying you down so that you are sprawled along the length of the couch. With his knee wedged between your legs, he hovers over you. You watch him with steady eyes as he begins to slide his pants off before kicking them to the side. Just like in all his videos you’ve watched, you notice today isn’t any different in his choice to forego underwear — his cock immediately flopping out and hitting your lower abdomen. Keeping your legs spread, you welcome his hips as they dip down until the tip of his cock is pressing against your entrance. His arm is outstretched and you hear the squeak of the crispy leather as he digs his fingers into the armrest of the chair. He looks at you from above, searching for any sign of uncertainty before moving forward. 

“Y’sure about this?” he whispers so that his voice is out of range of the camera, “You can make out now if you want, doll.” 

Your eyes can’t help but flutter, blinking away tears — this moment couldn’t be better. You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and urging him down till his lips meet yours. Unlike your first kiss, it’s tender. Gentle. And if it weren’t for the circumstances the two of you were in, you would almost say loving. 

He dawns a small smile before pulling away, reaching for something in the side drawer. His hand returns with a little golden packet and it’s then that you realize that this was really going to happen.

“Koko said I could fuck you raw,” he smiles smugly, bringing the condom packet up to his mouth before tearing it open with his teeth. He removes the rubber, slowly sliding it down his hard shaft, “S’your first time though — I won’t do that to you.” 

After lining the tip of his cock with your entrance, his hips lazily sink downwards, immediately making you feel full. The sensation of your tight hole being stretched makes you whimper and you can’t help but dig your fingers into his flesh, desperate to hold onto anything. 

“You gotta ease up, baby,” he pants, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck, “Fuck — y’cant squeeze me that tight, babe. I won’t be able to fit.”

“T-Too much, Tai,” you whine, but do your best to stop clenching. As soon as your cunt let’s up, he drives his hips forward to the point of being balls deep within you.

“Holy fuck!” You cry out, wrapping your legs around his bare bottom, digging your heels into his ass, wanting to take as much of him as you could. 

“That’s it, baby,” he groans, pulling back out before quickly thrusting into you again, “Taking all of me — such’a good girl, aren’t you?” 

His balls slap aggressively against your ass as he desperately drives all 8 inches of his cock into your tight pussy. Every thrust fills you up completely, deliciously pressing into the walls of your belly. 

“G-Gonna cum, Tai,” you babble, feeling the tickle of an impending orgasm, “G-Gon-ngh-…!”

Your vision goes white as your second climax racks violently through your body. 

”F-f-fuck..!” He curses, feeling the walls of your cunt clench around him tightly, frantically fluttering, and successfully making him empty his load inside of you. And even through the thin latex, you’re able to feel the hot warmth of his cum. He leans forward, careful not to press the entirety of his weight against you, only his sweaty forehead drooping down to meet yours. He presses a small kiss to your cheek before standing up to turn off the camera.

After getting dressed, the both of you had a little to a few words to say and before you knew it, the magical evening had come to an end. While you knew better than to keep your hopes up, deep down, you were hoping that he’d reach out to you, but a week had come and gone without a single word from Taiju. It was a professional arrangement for him, you constantly had to remind yourself — there’s no way he’d make time for you outside of his work.

“Y/N,” the voice of your manager breaks you out of your trance, “Looks like you have a secret admirer.”

You look at her quizzically as she hands you a large bouquet of flowers. 

“Who’s it from?”

You pluck the tag from the little plastic clip.

“(xxx) xxx-xxxx. Call me. T.”

[senditcolton]

Avalanche’s championship an act of love between veterans Landeskog, Johnson

Written by Mark Kiszla, Denver Post, June 27th 2022.

The only thing better than winning the NHL championship? Sharing a big hockey hug with your best friend.

Before they went dancing with the Stanley Cup, Avalanche captain Gabe Landeskog and Erik Johnson carved out a little piece of ice amid the celebration of a 2-1 victory against Tampa Bay and embraced like brothers from different mothers.

“We were crying, telling each other how much we loved each other. How proud we were of each other. We’ve been teammates for 11 years. We finally climbed the mountain,” Johnson tole me late Sunday, after Colorado beat the Lightning in Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Final to claim the franchise’s first championship since 2001.

It was worth the wait, because these is no more beautiful dance in sports that the one Landeskog took with a 139-year-old beauty. Landeskog lifted the 34.5-pound silver chalice overs his head, welcoming the Cup back home to Colorado with a kiss.

And then? Landeskog handed the Cup to Johnson. Hockey besties. Sharing the greatest prize in the game. Atop the mountain. Together.

“To win it with E.J. is just so special. He has been my best friend since Day 1… he was the first guy to reach out to me after I got drafted,” Landeskog told me. “I’ve been following my big brother for all these last 11 years. To be able to hand off that Stanley Cup and watch him skate away with it…”

I’m not crying. You’re crying.

Landy and E.J. have given heart and soul to this team, not the mention teeth and assorted other body parts, from years when the Avs weren’t easy to love through this crowning glory. Between them, Johnson and Landeskog have played 1,509 games, scored 344 goals and contributed 551 assists to the Burgundy and Blue.

A child lead the Avs to their first championship since 2001. OK, check that. At 23 years old, baby-faced defensemen Cale Makar only looks like the kid who takes you hamburger order at the drive-through window. On a star-studded roster, Makar was the man, richly deserving of the Conn Smythe trophy as the playoff MVP.

But did you see Landeskog crawling off the ice to the Avs bench in the final desperate minutes of the Cup-clinching contest, in obvious pain after blocking a wicked hard shot by Tampa Bay forward Nikita Kucherov?

Landeskog “might be the most important person in this whole organization,” Johnson said before this championship series began. “The demeanor he had, the type of player he is. Just a critical piece. He’s the cog that makes this machine go. The heartbeat of this team.”

And know what’s wild to think?

It not for kind twists of fate, both Landeskog and Johnson might not have shared a sweet hug they’ll cherish until their final breaths on this earth.

His NHL career could’ve ended with Johnson’s face hit the ice with a sick thud on Jan. 30, 2021, the result of a clean hit by Minnesota winger Jordan Greenway. Nearly five months after suffering a concussion, Johnson moved in a fog, from one uncertain day to the next.

“I was frankly sick of being injured. It was very disheartening,” Johnson told me. “With a concussion, it can be a week for some guys and a month for others. Or it can be career-ending. And I didn’t really know where I fell in that spectrum… I wasn’t totally sure I was going to come back and play this year, to be honest.”

A phone call cemented the resolve of and often-injured player to give a quest for the Cup on more shot, at age 34.

Joe Sakic, the front-office exec that put this championship puzzle together, reached out to Johnson and said: “We’re going to need you if you’re feeling well enough to play.”

Landeskog was born in Sweden, but he proudly calls Denver his hockey home, because this is where he grew up as a hockey player after joining the Avalanche as a teenager in 2011. But after a decade run with the team, he was forced by the cruel business side of hockey to contemplate leaving in the wake of a disheartening playoff loss to Vegas.

Last summer, less than 60 minutes before he was scheduled to become a free agent, Landeskog agreed to a new 8-year, $56 million deal to remain with the Avalanche.

“It did go down to the wire, that’s for sure,” Sakic said. “Maybe near the end I was a little worried, but I was hopeful we’d get it done. Both sides were really happy with the deal. He can finish his career as an Avalanche. That’s how it should be.”

Fighting back tears while standing on the ice of Amalie Arena, amid a celebration with family and friends, Landeskog said: “Management didn’t blow things up after losing in the second round for the third tear in a row. They kept believing in us.”

Every championship dream is born of faith, earned through sweat and strength to be these for your best friend in the locker room, to apply glue to a broken heart in defeat and share the tears of joy in victory.

“Gabe. Me. We won a championship. Finally. After 11 years,” Johnson said. “It’s amazing. But we did. And we did it together.”

And now? The names of Landeskog and Johnson will be engraved on the Stanley Cup. Together. Best hockey friends. Forever.

[fear-of-flyers]

Forever With You

Mat Barzal x gn!reader

Word Count: 882

Warnings: Mat cries (but like happy tears).

Mat knew he wanted to propose to you. He had always kind of wanted to propose to someone on the ice before a game. He knew it wasn’t for everyone and obviously wouldn’t do it if it was something they weren’t comfortable with. Early in your relationship he had expressed this after a night out after a big win. You had laughed along but knew that the two of you weren’t ready for that step and that you didn’t want something so big as a surprise.

It was now 4 years later. Mat was thriving in the NHL and the two of you were happier than ever and ready for the next step of marriage. Mat hadn’t thought about proposing on the ice more than passively and was looking forward to whatever did happen but you hadn’t forgotten. The only issue you had with surprise proposals is if you were to be surprised, but if you proposed to Mat it would solve the problem. With that you started working on a plan. You coordinated with Anders, Beau, the training/coaching/media staff and the rest of the team to make sure everything was perfect.

Finally the night was there. It was a home game against the Avs, a happy coincidence because it meant that Tyson could be there, and Mat was under the impression that he would be doing a special puck drop. The carpet was rolled out and Mat skated over, meeting Gabe Landeskog in the center, still a bit confused about what the whole thing was. Gabe knew what was happening and if Mat had looked around he would’ve seen his teammates (and Tyson) bouncing around excitedly.

Then, after what seemed like forever for you the announcer started talking.

“Today’s ceremonial puck drop honors a player on this ice right now.”

That confused Mat even more, he wasn’t aware of any recent milestones reached that hadn’t already been celebrated. He looked around for an answer but couldn’t find one, turning back around when the announcement started again.

“The player in question is number 13 for your New York Islanders, Mathew Barzal and now, to drop the puck, we invite his partner Y/n to come forward.”

Mat’s jaw dropped, he was confused, you were walking out and no one could answer anything. He turns his questioning gaze towards you and you shrug, a smile evident on your face. There is a mic attached to your collar, wired to UBS’s speaker system, but it doesn’t pick up the “Good luck” Gabe whispers your way as you reach the end of the carpet. You smile towards Gabe, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before hugging Mat. “What’s happening?” he whispers into your shoulder. “You’ll see” You respond before pulling back to start your speech.

“Mathew Barzal. You have made my life so much better than I ever imagined it being, you have been there for me since day one and have brought so many wonderful adventures to my life. I couldn’t see being here without you today. You have been the best friend and boyfriend that anyone could ask for and I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.”

At that you got down on one knee, pulling the ring out of your pocket as a collective gasp rose from the people around you.

“I didn’t forget 2 years ago when you said that you’d always dreamed of proposing at a game but here I am beating you to it. Mathew Michael Paul Barzal, will you marry me?”

When you finished Mat sunk to his knees pulling you towards him and into a kiss, eyes shining.

“Of course I’ll marry you Y/n” he says now crying freely. You smile up at him and pull the ring out of the box, slipping it onto his finger. You kiss again before the crowd around you pulls you from your bubble. Once you stand up again Mat’s teammates swarm the two of you, congratulations thrown from all directions.

Finally the commotion calmed down and you hugged Beau and Anders, thanking them for their help. “You guys KNEW???” Mat yelled hearing your thanks. They nodded, smiling and rolling their eyes at Mat’s shock. “Yeah we knew,” Anders said, “I think most of the team did.” Mat looks around, shocked they all kept the secret before turning his attention back to you unable to believe how lucky he is.

Then it finally comes time for the game to actually start. You wish the boys luck and although the mic had been turned off once Mat said yes, you finally handed it to one of the staff escorting you. With that done you made your way up to the suite that held your parents and sibling(s) as well as Mat’s family. On the way you stop in to say hi to the other partners, giving more hugs than you could imagine, immensely grateful for the family you had made through the team.

The game, of course, was amazing. The Isles won 6-2, Mat getting a hattrick, pointing up to you after each goal. Everyone got a laugh out of his on-ice reaction to your families being there and after you all went out for dinner to celebrate. All in all, Mat couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

Bonus Little Edit

yourusername

Liked by titobeauvi91, mattymarts17 and 23,472 others

yourusername literally the only pic i have from tonight, here’s to forever with you love ❤️

tagged @barzal97

view all 672 comments

josty17 ayyyy congrats you two!

islesfan23 omg!!! you are so cute!

barzal97 couldn’t be happier. ❤️

—

barzal97

Liked by ny_islanders, pagertrain and 64,291 others

barzal97 you beat me to the proposal but i think i win in the end because i get life with you. @yourusername

view all 1,203 comments

ny_islanders and we got to watch it live! congrats!

yourusername let’s call it a tie <3

titobeauvi91 ew that caption mat (jkjk 😂 congrats)

[bqstqnbruin]

Could you also do 26 with Josty please 😇 - justjosty

Happy blurb weekend @justjosty :)

i’m constantly dragging all my friends to your hockey games because i think you’re so much fun to watch and i don’t think you’ll ever notice me

WC: 728

Warnings: None

“How many times this season are you going to drag me to an Avs game this season before you actually say hello to Tyson?” Sami asks you.

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks at her words, wishing that she wasn’t so loud about it. Everyone in your friend group knew that you liked Tyson, they just didn’t think you would be so obvious about it and that he would be so oblivious. You dragged every single one of your friends to his games in hopes that he would see you, spending way more money that you would like to admit on the tickets at lower ice level, never working up the courage to ask Tyson if he had a ticket to spare for you. “What are you talking about, I just like hockey,” you try to play it off.

You turn to the ice, trying to see where Tyson was. He was near the blue line, Cale coming up past him as the Kraken brought the puck towards Kemper, currently looking like he was about to make an easy shot on goal. Sami keeps talking about how you brought everyone where, recapping what you already knew about how you felt about Tyson. “Just tell him you like him.”

You can’t help but scoff, knowing that it was something you would never do. “Yeah, ok,” you say in a joking manner.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“The world would end and I would have to move to a remote potato farm in Ireland and isolate myself with the spuds where no one could possibly percieve me.”

Sami looks at you, dumbfounded by your theatrics at the possibility of telling Tyson how you felt about him. “Jesus Christ,” she mumbles. “Don’t tell him, you’ll be single forever with that attitude.”

“I’d rather it be that way instead of ruin any friendship we have.”

The crowd around you starts to groan, the Kraken player having scored on the play, leaving the Avalanche down by 1 with half of the last period left. They had it in them to score and at least tie the game, but part of you also had no faith in any group of men to do anything that you wanted them to do.

Sami rolls her eyes at you, turning back to the game. She knew there was no point in trying to argue with you; no matter what she said, you would still say the same thing: Tyson was your friend, you would never confess your feelings for him, and life would go on with him not noticing you at every single game of his.

The puck drops, Tyson winning the faceoff right away and making a breakaway down the ice towards Grubauer in an attempt to score. The blue line of the Kraken make it in front of Tyson before he has the chance to shoot, forcing him to pass it to one of his teammates in an effort to try to throw off the defense of the Kraken. It didn’t seem to work since there was still no opening in front of the net for EJ to shoot. Tyson gets the puck back, just shooting the puck at the net in hopes for something. He misses, the puck being deflected off the pads and back over to Cale who tries again for the rebound, him shooting and making the goal.

The crowd starts cheering, the game tied with 7 minutes left and hoping that the game didn’t go back in favor of the Kraken.

Back at center ice, Tyson is back at the faceoff, hopefully trying to reproduce the same thing they just did, or at the very least, score again before the game was over. The puck goes over to Cale, him taking the puck up to the net this time before passing it over to Tyson. Before you could even process what was going on, the puck ricocheted off Tyson’s stick and towards the goal, finding the back of the net and causing the crowd to cheer again.

Tyson turns around, looking directly at you and pointing to you after he scored, Sami, shaking you as his teammates surrounded him for scoring what could be the game winning goal. “I think he’s noticed you,” she whispers, sending a chill down your spine as Tyson goes back to the bench.

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

[player1064]

Thought I was being clever saying june 04 por favor however it has been posted already 😬🤣 1997 if u please ?

WIP asks but it's just the various sections of my happy (???) beville (/angsty carraville) WIP

this section's not Completely finished yet but I do like what I've got so far so sure I'll post it...

---

March, 1997.

Two of the Spice Girls are at Old Trafford. Gary wishes they weren’t, and not just because it’s got the Boss grumbling about unnecessary press attention. No, he wishes they weren’t because they’re meant to be lining up in the tunnel any second now but all anyone in the dressing room is talking about is the fucking Spice Girls. Never mind the match they need to go out and win.

See that posh one, there, echoes David’s voice in his head, even out on the pitch. At one point he makes the mistake of looking up at the stands, at the box that half the match photographers have their cameras pointed at. I could marry her, Gaz.

The clean sheet he gets does little to keep his mind off it.

Once they’re done with press and have all showered and changed, the team starts to filter into the player’s lounge, most of them heading straight to the bar to claim the single beer they’re permitted after a win. Gary finds he doesn’t have the stomach for it, though, when he realises that even here isn’t safe - Posh and Sporty Spice enter soon after the players do, to a round of cheers and a dozen footballers crowding around them making bids for their attention.

Worse still, the posh one extracts herself from the throng and makes a beeline to the corner where he and Becks are sitting, perches herself on the arm of David’s chair and sticks a hand out in greeting.

“You’re David Beckham,” she says, and Gary has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. How many beers can such a tiny body process, anyway?

David shakes her hand and looks her up and down with a grin. “And you’re Posh Spice. You a United fan, then?”

“Something like that,” she says. “Call me Victoria, by the way. I was there when you scored that goal against Chelsea last month, very impressive.”

Gary quickly excuses himself, though neither of them seem to have remembered he’s there, and he heads out the longue and back to the dressing room, lies down across one of the benches and waits.

Fuck. He’s fucked.

*

He’s got his eyes closed and is starting to let himself doze off a bit when he hears steps coming into the dressing room and David’s voice saying “what’re you doing hiding in ‘ere, Gaz?”

Becks comes over to the bench he’s lying on and sits down, lifts Gary’s legs up to place them in his lap. Gary props himself up on one elbow and squints at him; according to the clock on the wall, it’s only been twenty minutes since he came down.

“Shouldn’t you be upstairs flirting with the Spice Girls?” he asks.

David gives his shin a light slap at that. “Thought I’d best leave that to the experts,” he says with a wink. “So Giggsy’s taken over for me.” 

“Twat, he’ll just scare them off,” Gary mumbles. Then, speaking up a bit: “Didn’t want more time with the future Mrs Beckham, then?”

“Huh?” David blinks dumbly. “What, you mean Victoria? Christ, Gaz, she’s a nice girl but she was a bit too tipsy to hold up much of a conversation. ‘sides, I told her when she tried to give me her number that I’m already with someone. Have been for two years now, actually.”

“Oh yeah? Anyone I might know?”

“Hmm, maybe. He can be a bit of a jealous prick, though, so I’d watch yourself.”

“He sounds awful.”

“He’s an absolute nightmare. I love him to bits.”

“Enough to turn down a Spice Girl?”

“Enough to turn down all five Spice Girls, if I ‘ave to.”

 *

They’re still kissing lazily a while later when the door opens and Scholesy walks in with a scowl, muttering to himself ‘what even is a Spice Girl, anyway’. As soon as they hear him they spring apart, try to get some space between them, but by then it’s too late. Scholesy is stood frozen in the doorway, wide eyes staring at the two of them.

“Scholesy,” Gary breathes, at the same time as Becks is saying “Paul –”

Becks glances sideways at Gary and nods, as if to say you take this one.

“Scholesy, we –” he starts, then realises he has no idea what the hell he’s meant to say. We weren’t doing anything? That would be a blatant fucking lie. We were just celebrating the win? The game’s been over for an hour now. “We – I – please don’t tell anyone.”

He stares down at the ground, shuffles back towards David on the bench now that there’s no point trying to hide anything. He presses against his side, shifts his hand so he can link their pinkies together.

Scholesy huffs, then says “how long’ve we been friends, Gaz? Not fucked you over yet, have I?”