#kraken phone number

[hockeyboysimagines]

Work wife

A Vince Dunn blurb for @cellythefloshie. This is not in any way related to Fuck me like I’m famous. This is just a fun blurb we talked about brought to life.

Warnings: Sex, cheating

“There’s my work wife.”

You half turned to find Vince coming down the hallway smiling at you.

Working for the Kraken was a dream come true really.

You couldn’t actually ask for a better job, or better environment to be in. It was a tight knit group full of great people who worked hard, and got along well.

And then there was Vince.

You two had clicked from the beginning. He was easy to talk to, and you liked him a lot. The more time you spent together, the more you got to know him and the more comfortable you became with him.

Maybe too comfortable.

Which is how you wound up screaming his name one night after drinks, after the flirtation between you guys had finally boiled over and spilled into his apartment. It had been extremely awkward when you saw him on Monday, but when he caught you in the parking garage and asked to talk, you’d agreed. And that’s how it all started. Secret meetups, sneaking around, and even texts from a fake phone number, your assistant “Jessica”, to keep things under wraps. It felt both wrong, and exciting, but you just couldn’t stop. While it had started as a secret hookup, it hadn’t stayed that way. There was genuine feelings there now.

The term “work wife” had started as a joke, thrown out by a coworker of yours, who obviously had no clue what was happening behind closed doors, but it stuck. There was really only one problem with it.

You were someone’s real life wife.

The idea of Vince made your husband clearly uncomfortable in the beginning, before anything was actually going on, but there wasn’t really anything you could do about it, and you didn’t really want to either. Your husband was a good guy, but being around Vince made you realize you really didn’t have a thing in common. He was 8 years older than you, and you had married young, feeling the pressure from your family to marry someone who was financially stable. You “loved” him, but you weren’t really “In love” with him, at least not anymore. Not that you were in love with Vince either, but your feelings for him had drowned out the feelings for your husband. And beyond that, you had suspicions that he was embroiled in his own case of infidelity.

You felt really bad at first, but then he started staying late, random business trips with no warning, and you’d even found a receipt for purchased jewelry that you hadn’t received just last month. He often smelled of perfume and the lipstick you’d found on the inside of one of his shirts was a color you’d never worn. You hadn’t confronted him because you just didn’t care, and truly you had no room to talk.

It was a rock and a hard place situation that you’d landed yourself in, but the thrill of it all overrode the anxiety of being found out.

Not only would you lose your job, your respect in the work place, and your marriage, but it would also put a black mark on your career moving forward and make Vince look bad, none of which you wanted.

He made his way past you and winked, but then paused at the end of the hallway, just below a camera so he couldn’t be seen, and motioned for you to check your phone. You absently pulled out your phone, turning away from him so it looked like you just happened to get a message.

Meet me in the room.

“The room” as he called it was a vacant room in the basement of the arena that was used mostly for storage, and sat in the middle of a hallway that was void of cameras. It wasn’t ideal, but sometimes there was no other choice. There was few places you could go with him that he wasn’t recognized here, so you were limited to the room, his apartment and your place only if your husband was on a business trip out of state and even then it was risky.

You took the long way, careful not to rush, giving small glances here and there to make sure that no one was following you, and slipped into the hallway that your office was located, which conveniently also led the the hallway he was waiting for you in.

You made you way down the corridor, a set of stairs and then down to the vacant room. He was leaned against the wall, eyes moving up your bare legs and you neared him.

“Hi wifey.” He said smiling cheekily as he held the door open for you, allowing you to step inside before following you in. You gave a little shudder as the room grew dark when the door closed and you felt his hands on your waist.

“You look nice today.” He said in your ear, turning you to face him. Goddamnit he was gorgeous, even more up close. In curiosity you had done a google search of him right after you’d started working there and saw that everyone else thought that too, not to your surprise, but you were lucky enough to see all his body parts up close and personal and you felt bad for the people who didn’t get to.

“You say that to me everyday.” You ran a hand up his arm as he reached forward to press his lips against your neck.

“Well then I guess it’s true.” He said softly, hand gripping your chin as he pulled his mouth off your neck and caught your lips a very hot, wet kiss.

You felt a heat start to spread in your stomach as he backed you up against a table, tongue pushing in your mouth, cutting off your air. The way he moved his tongue against yours made your heart race, fingers gripping at your blouse, which was tucked into a pencil skirt, and pulling it loose so he could unbutton it, and hoisted you up to sit on the edge of the table. His hands, slightly rough against your skin as he reached the bottom button and ran his hands up your waist, pausing at your bra and pulling away from you.

“Is this new?” He asked breathlessly gesturing at your bra.

You nodded and watched as he reached a hand forward and ran a finger across your collarbone, down your chest to your sternum, hooking a finger in the front band and running it along your ribs.

“I bought it just for you. It matches these.” You gestured down and inched your skirt up to reveal black underwear. He smiled slowly eyes staying on them for a second before they moved back up to yours and he smiled.

“Can’t wait to take them off.” He reached down hooking a thumb on either side of them and gave them a tug, pulling them down your legs, hand coming back up your legs to pull one up underneath your knee, and to spread the other one wider, leaning you back as he eased himself into you.

Your head fell back, hair spilling off your shoulders as he pulled out and pushed back in. You felt a hand on the back of your neck as Vince pulled you up to kiss him, pushing in and out finding a rhythm. You caught his lip between your teeth, and he gave your hair a small tug, goosebumps erupting across your skin. It truly never got old feeling him inside you and his hands all over you. He brought you to highs you’d never been at before and each time was better than the one before.

He angled his hips upward and hit a spot you didn’t know existed and you cried out, biting down on your lip to stop from making too much noise. A curl at the front of his hair fell across his forehead as he picked up his pace. Your lower back was screaming in pain as it hit repeatedly on the table and you felt your legs begin to tighten and heat explode in your stomach as a crippling orgasm swept from your lower half to your upper half, Vince’s lips at your neck as it shuddered through your body and your vision went spotty. You gave a shaky breath as he slowed his pushes and let his head fall forward, breath hot on your neck. After a moment he picked his head up to look at you.

“You’re amazing.”

You blushed and pushed the curl off his forehead, as he helped you down and handed you your underwear. You gingerly pulled them back up, and took several deep breaths attempting to cool yourself down.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked reaching a hand out to intertwine his fingers with yours “Come over after work for a little bit. What time does he get home?”

“6:30. I guess I could for a little bit.”

“Great.” He smiled widely and gave you one last short and sweet kiss before he left the room, making his way back to wherever he was planning to go and you made your way to your office, now tasked with spending the next three hours at your desk having to think about him, and what you would be getting into with him later on.

You sometimes wondered if keeping this thing you had going with him was for the worst rather than the better. How bad would it hurt to rip off the bandaid when it inevitably went south, or had to end due to whatever reasons. And what would happen if he met someone else?

Would you be cast aside? Replaced? A side piece?

You couldn’t handle that. And it wouldn’t be fair, which you knew because it wasn’t fair to him that he was currently a side piece. He didn’t seem bothered, or he was a great actor because he never spoke up about it when you asked and even managed to crack a joke about it here and there for your benefit. But it still wasn’t right. And it wouldn’t be right to drag this out knowing he should have the right to go out and meet girls without having to wonder what would happen with you and him.

You got so absorbed thinking about it, you lost track of time and nearly ended up staying past your clock out time, rushing to get out of the arena and over to Vince’s. He greeted you with his usual “wifey” at the door and pulled you inside.

After your second romp of the day, your breath evened out, you checked your phone and sighed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him.

He shook his head “Don’t say it-“

“Time to go.” you said quietly, sitting upright and grabbing your bra and blouse. You heard him sigh behind you and lean back against the headboard. It was quiet for a while as you hooked the clasp, and pulled the blouse over your shoulders. You hated this part. The afterglow wasn’t even over and you had to leave, go home and play housewife to someone you barely even had conversation with day to day. You’d not been intimate with each other in over a year, since you’d started working for the Kraken, because you were both getting it somewhere else. It felt silly to continue to live a lie.

“I think you should leave your husband.” Vince said off handedly from behind you.

You paused and turned slowly “What?” You said eyes moving up to meet his as you buttoned your blouse.

“You heard me.” He said from his spot on the bed “I said I want you to leave your husband.” He was looking at you straight faced, serious and not joking. He’d made lots of “leave your husband” jokes over the last few months, but he wasn’t kidding this time.

You gaped at him “I-Why?”

“Please.” He rolled his eyes “I think it’s pretty self explanatory. I mean if you really loved him would you even be here?” He gestured around.

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been going over this in your head for months, and you’d come to the conclusion that your husband just wasn’t it.

“Even if I would….Id have to quit for this to go any further.”

Vince pursed his lips “I mean. I can’t ask you to do that, but I do know that you should leave him. And I think you know that too.” He added quietly “I mean even without me in the picture, it wouldn’t be any different.”

He was right.

Part of why you took the job with the Kraken was to fill your time and pull yourself out of being a housewife and hanging out with all his business buddies perfect wives. Working with the Kraken gave you the freedom to do your own thing and be whoever you wanted to be, rather than locked up in that condo.

You nodded “Your right. But what about my job? I can’t be with you and work here.”

“Let’s worry about that another time. I can help you with this.” He reached forward and gripped your hand “I just really want you to be happy.”

You were quiet for a minute, eyes focused on the bedsheet as you realized this could be your one chance to get out of the mess you were in. Your one opportunity to truly change the direction of your life. Maybe things never went forward with Vince, but maybe they did. Even if they didn’t, he had given you the confidence to make changes and leave a guy you didn’t even love, and for that you would always be thankful.

“Well?” He asked after a few moments of silence.

You looked up and took a deep breath “Do you promise? To help me?”

He nodded eyes lighting up “Yes. So are we really doing this?” He looked so hopeful, leaned forward, eyes bright. It was actually making your heart hurt how beautiful he was at that moment.

You nodded “I think- I think so.”

He smiled the most beautiful, breath taking smile you’d ever seen on him, which you didn’t think was possible because they were all beautiful, but this one was different.

“This is going to change your life I promise you. I’m going to change your life. For the better.”

“You already have.”

He pulled you right back down, kissing you like he never had as you became a tangle mess of limbs and clothes and you felt like things would get better for the first time in a long time.

Maybe being a work wife wasn’t so bad.

[mp0625]

Hiiii hope u are okay 🥰 could ya write something about Vince where reader (his gf) gets hurt. She was supposed to be at the game but instead was in the hospital. Him being worried when he couldn’t find her in the stands. Whatever comes to your mind :)

Sushi

Taglist. Masterlist.

Vince Dunn x reader

Anon Request: Hiiii hope u are okay 🥰 could ya write something about Vince where reader (his gf) gets hurt. She was supposed to be at the game but instead was in the hospital. Him being worried when he couldn’t find her in the stands. Whatever comes to your mind :)

A/N: I’m doing pretty good. Damn I forgot how much I like Vince!! I’m still taking requests for Vince Dunn or any players/Drivers!

TW: Angst, Car Cr*sh

“Hey baby, sorry I’m running late. The meeting ran late at work again.” Sighing while you walk to the car.

“It’s ok, you’ll get here when you get here. Be careful driving, there was lots of traffic coming into the arena.” He said with concern in his voice

“I will, I promise. Love you Babe!! I’ll be in my normal seat and should be there by the anthem.” You said with a smile in your voice.

“Love you too, baby.” “Hey, one more thing, can we go get sushi after we, you know what?” He asked quizzically with a laugh at the end.

“Definitely! That sounds delicious.” “See you at the game.” You said as you hung up.

As you were pulling out of the parking garage of your office building, a car blew through a stop sign. T boning your car. Causing your car to flip on to its side. Witnesses come running calling 911 and seeing if they can help.

As he stepped onto the for warm up and he didn’t see you he thought, “She hasn’t made it in yet, but I know she’ll be in for the anthem and opening face off.”

As Vince went back down the tunnel he still did not see you and that was starting to concern him but to calm his nerves he told himself that you were probably getting a snack.

When he came back onto the ice for puck drop. He looks to where you normally are sitting, and he doesn’t see you. “Where is Y/N at?? She’s probably in the bathroom. Hopefully she’ll be back for opening faceoff.” He thinks to help calm his nerves.

When he got that goal against Bobrovsky he looked to see his good luck charm in the stands and you still were not there. He thought maybe you were in the bathroom again.

When the game was over, with the kraken winning he didn’t feel the elation or the happiness that the rest of the team or the fans were feeling. He was very concerned about you. As he went into the dressing room he got his phone out of his bag seeing all of the calls he got from your phone. Listening to one of the voicemails. “Hello this is nurse Macy from Kindred Hospital Seattle, I’m calling to let you know that Y/N has been in a wreck and you were in her phone as her emergency contact. Please call us back to this number and we can give you some more information about her condition.” Vince almost dropped his phone in shock.

When trying to redial your phone number his fingers slipped multiple times and almost called Matty Beniers who was across the dressing room. When he finally was able to call your number it picked on the second ring. “Hello”

“Y/N”

“Sir, is this Vince?”

“Yes”

“Mr. Vince, This is nurse Macy, Y/N was involved in a T bone accident her car flipped onto its side. She seems to be OK other than a few broken bones right now she is asleep.”

“Oh thank everything! She is ok.” He said with a big sigh of relief. “Can I come see her?”

“Yes, you can.” “See you soon.” She said hanging up.

Vince breathes a sigh of relief knowing what happened, but is very concerned about what happened to you. He quickly showers and gets dressed to go see you.

The thing that wakes you up thinking it was a nurse coming to check your vitals. But instead it was Vince holding a box.

“Hi, I brought sushi!” He said with a smile.

Taglist: @studioreader @honethatty12 @slafgoalskybaby @swissboyhisch @topguncultleader @wondershells @cixrosie

If anything looks wrong or is messed up please let me know my tumblr was fighting me to post this. It looks ok to me, but I might have missed something.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Top Shelf Love: Chapter One

A/N: yeah, yeah, I know! This is super exposition-y, but we have to set it all up, besties! I promise Cassian and Nesta actually interact again in the next chapter 🫡 Also, for anyone who's nerdy like me, the Athletic has a really great article about just how complicated things get when a player gets traded. It's a fun read!

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Cassian

Cassian groans, tossing his phone on the coffee table, the device skittering across the wood without a care. He drops his head against the back of the sofa, digging his hands into his hair and dragging his fingers against the curly strands. He still can’t quite wrap his mind around it, and he half wonders if he’s imagining this entire phone call, but the tinny voice continues through the speaker even if he’s no longer listening.

Seattle.

He got traded to the Seattle Kraken.

The words continue to crash and echo in his mind, even as his agent goes through the usual spiel when trades happen. Expect a call from the coach, maybe even a few players will reach out once the news breaks. The Kraken’s director of team services will reach out with the finer details for a smooth transition. Reminders of the CBA mandates. Meetings with the trainers, the equipment team, and the coaching staff to look forward to. Practice schedule. It’s like information overload, a hurricane swirling through his head with hundred mile per hour winds.

It doesn’t help that his phone has already started to vibrate against the table, almost excessively. With a quiet huff that thankfully his agent doesn’t pick up on, already plowing forward into the exciting potential for re-signing with Seattle, Cassian snatches his phone back up. He minimizes the call screen and looks at his notifications. Of course. The news has already broken on Twitter. Damn ‘insiders.’

“Any questions for me, Cassian? Anything I can do for you?”

Cassian has to shake his head, clearing his still spiraling thoughts, before he finds his voice. “All good, Eris. That’s how the off season goes, right?”

Eris is quiet for a moment. “I’ll send a car to take you to the airport. A nicer one than the team would send.”

With that, the line clicks, and Cassian tosses his phone away again, this time face down. He doesn’t even want to look at what’s being said, at the speculation. Sure, the Rangers hadn’t had the best season, the ending more heartbreak than anything else. Sure, he only has one year left on his contract. Sure, the front office wants draft picks to help build up the farm system with young blood.

But still, Cassian never expected this. Never expected this was how his time with the team would end. Never expected this was how his time in New York City would end.

Sighing softly, he glances around his apartment. The high ceilings, the modern, open kitchen, the tall windows and the amazing skyline view that the thirty-first floor offers. He really did love this place, a far cry from the streets he’d grown up on, and a reminder of how far he'd come from those very streets. He supposes he’ll have to sell it now. Is it worth keeping just for the off season?

The sound of Cassian’s phone ringing is loud in his otherwise quiet apartment. It seems to echo off the walls as though taunting him. He’s half tempted to ignore it all together, but despite the unknown number displayed on the screen when he checks, the location is listed as Seattle. Not the best first impression to send his new team to voicemail. Another sigh and Cassian squares his shoulders, sliding his thumb across the screen to answer.

The man on the other end of the line introduces himself and exchanges a few pleasantries, but then he’s diving right in to more specifics. The nitty gritty of a trade. Flight details. Financials and reimbursements. Rental car when he lands. Taxes.

Cassian only half listens, making sure he makes the affirmative sounds at the appropriate breaks in conversation. This isn’t his first rodeo. Although, he had still been in the farm system when his last trade happened. This is certainly different, but Cassian knows he thankfully won’t have to deal with most of this. He’ll give the director of team services Eris’s number, and let him deal with all the numbers and everything. It’s why he pays him the big bucks after all.

As soon as the call ends, Cassian’s phone lights up and starts ringing again. He wants to pull his own hair out as that incessant sound fills his apartment. He knows how this goes, but he’d give anything for just a moment of peace, a moment to really sit with his thoughts and everything that’s just happened. He considers turning his phone off, letting all the calls go to voicemail, at least for a few hours, but then he sees the name displayed on the screen.

“I take it you saw the news?” Cassian says by way of greeting.

“Need a drink?” Rhysand’s voice carries down the line.

Cassian chuckles, already pushing up to his feet. “You have no idea. But you better be breaking out the good shit from your fancy cellar.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get your ass over here.”

Just the short conversation, the teasing tone of his chosen brother, has Cassian feeling lighter already. He grabs his wallet and shoves it into his pocket, tugging a ball cap down over his curls. Summer still clings to the city despite the first day of fall barely a few days away, but the breeze that dances between the buildings promises cooler temperatures to come. Cassian takes the subway up toward Central Park, the rocking of the car over the tracks strangely a lulling balm over his nerves.

The doorman offers Cassian a nod and a friendly hello in greeting when he arrives at the building, holding the door open for him to stroll inside. The receptionist at the front desk does the same, barely casting Cassian a cursory glance as he heads for the elevators. He quickly punches in the code and steps inside, riding up and up and up, all the way to the penthouse.

Feyre is waiting for Cassian as soon as the elevator doors open, stepping forward and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian chuckles but he wraps his own arms around Feyre’s shoulders nonetheless. “I’m not dying, Fey. I just got traded.”

“I know, but traded across the country,” Feyre continues, pulling back enough that she can peer up at Cassian with an overdramatic pout. “I’m losing my partner in crime. Who will join me in bullying Rhys now?”

“You’re right,” Cassian tells her, nodding his head with faux solemness. “I’m so sorry you’ll be stuck on the east coast all alone with Rhys’s stupid face.”

“Stupid face? And here I broke out the good wine for your sorry ass.”

Cassian tosses his head back and laughs. He steps away from Feyre and walks over to Rhys, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “I expect nothing less.”

Rhys rolls his eyes, but he leads the way into the kitchen, three wine glasses and a bottle already arranged on the large kitchen island. He pours the wine into each glass, but Cassian grabs the bottle, examining the label with an appreciative hum.

“I don’t know why you’re making that sound,” Rhys comments dryly, taking a sip of his drink.

“Who cares about that?” Feyre cuts in, waving a dismissive hand at her fiancé and leaning against the kitchen island, her attention solely on Cassian. “Are you excited for Seattle?”

Cassian hums, swirling his wine around the glass. “They’re definitely building a good team out there. Strong top line. And I’ve heard good things about playing under Miller.”

“But…?”

“There’s no but, it’s just…” Cassian sighs softly, pulling his cap off to run his fingers through his hair. “It just sucks because everyone’s here, out east. You guys are always here or in Montreal. Mor’s here in New York. Even Az isn’t that far in Nashville. I won’t know anyone out west.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have the guys on the team. You know they’ll have all the best spots in town to recommend,” Rhys reminds him.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“My sister lives out in Seattle!” Feyre jumps in to add, blue eyes bright.

Cassian frowns. “Doesn’t Elain live in Toronto with Lucien?”

“Not Elain. My other sister. Nesta. You’ve met her.”

Nesta.

Cassian is sure he’d remember if he met Nesta Archeron. He still remembers when Feyre had posted the photos from Elain’s wedding last month to her Instagram, the way his mouth had slackened at the sight of who he was sure was the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. With the purple, silky fabric of the bridesmaid dress clinging perfectly to her every curve, golden brown strands of hair swept away from her face in an intricate updo, she was breathtaking.

But it was her expression in the photos that had really drawn Cassian in. There was something about it. Something about her. Something about the way that even though she was smiling in the photo, there was still a challenge, a dare, burning in her stormy blue eyes and the pinch of her brow. And Cassian had never backed down from a dare. He was sure one look from her had sent many men to their knees, sent them fleeing for the hills before she could cut them down where they stood, but Cassian? Cassian wanted to drive head first into that fire.

“I don’t think I’ve met her,” Cassian offers, but he doesn’t tell Feyre just how much he wishes he had.

“But she was at our engagement party in May,” Feyre continues, but when Cassian only shrugs in response, she merely sighs. “Whatever. The point is that she lives in Seattle. I can give you her number if you want. Then, you’ll at least know someone out there when you get there. And I’m sure she’d be more than happy to show you around.”

Cassian thinks about it. He thinks back to those photos on Feyre’s Instagram, thinks about the photos he had seen when he stalked Nesta’s own Instagram after he clicked the tagged account. Thinks of those stormy blue eyes and the tilt of her lips in a smirk behind the rim of a wine glass. Thinks of the stories Feyre has told him, of the stubborn and fierce older sister who all but eviscerated Feyre’s ex, Tamlin.

“Yeah… yeah, that’d be good. Just so I know someone out there.”

~ * * * ~

Nesta

Nesta sighs softly, but she reaches down, fingers curling beneath cardboard. Her arms protest at the weight, but she hefts the box up, shuffling the few steps to add it to the organized chaos that’s their backroom. For a moment, her attention dances back toward her phone where she left it on another box, but she pointedly left it face down for a reason. She doesn’t need to look at the text messages waiting for her again.

Feyre 1:18pm Remember Cassian? Rhys’ brother that I told you all about? 😉 He’s coming to Seattle! I gave him your number. Show him around for me? Please?

Unknown number 4:43pm Hey, Nesta. This is Cassian. Feyre gave me your number. I’m moving out to Seattle soon. Maybe we can meet up?

“So, let me get this straight. The Cassian is moving to Seattle?”

Nesta snorts softly, peering toward where Gwyn is sprawled across the floor, iPad balanced against her knees. “We’re calling him the Cassian now?”

“I prefer to call him the douchey hockey player,” Emerie comments idly, placing the box in her own arms down. She swipes up the box cutter from the metal shelf to her left, making quick, efficient work of the tape keeping the box closed.

“And are you imagining douchey hockey player’s balls there?” Gwyn teases, looking meaningfully toward the box cutter in Emerie’s grip.

“So what if I am?” Emerie fires back, leaning forward to open Nesta’s box too. “He’d deserve it.”

“I never said he didn’t,” Gwyn laughs, turning her attention back to Nesta. “So, what are you going to do?”

Nesta sighs softly. “I don’t know. Feyre asked me to show him around the city.”

“Doesn’t he have teammates to do that?”

“Ignore him and the request,” Emerie suggests dryly.

Nesta snorts quietly but it quickly turns into a sigh, even as she keeps her hands busy pulling books out of her box. “I didn’t exactly tell Feyre what happened that night.”

She hadn’t told anyone about that night, save her two best friends. She still cringes sometimes when she thinks back to it, the embarrassment burning bright low in her gut, twisting and squeezing between her ribs uncomfortably. She’d sworn that night that she would never give a single thought about Cassian Valdarez ever again, and until today, she’d kept true to that.

She’d spent her remaining days in New York City solely with her sisters, even doing one of the touristy bus tours with Elain to see all the classic sights. And thankfully, Feyre had been more interested in excitedly talking about wedding plans and ideas than continuing her busybody meddling. If either of her sisters noticed anything different with Nesta, they didn’t say anything.

After Nesta had flown back home to Seattle, Emerie and Gwyn came over to her apartment. Drinking a bottle of wine between the three of them, it all had come spilling out of her. Her friends had allowed her to pace and rage, and then that was that. Nesta had washed her hands of the whole thing. Never again did she dare to check the sports news out of curiosity. Never again did she dare to stalk his Instagram. Never again did she think of the stupid face and the stupid smirk of a smile of that hockey player.

“What if you give him a tour of all the worst places in the city?” Emerie suggests, brown eyes practically lighting up at the idea. “Then, maybe he’ll want to leave the city.”

Gwyn’s laugh is bright, red hair tumbling down her back when she tosses her head back. “That is definitely not how sports teams operate.”

“Worth a shot,” Emerie mutters, tossing aside the box packaging in her hands and reaching back in for the books hiding beneath. “Holy shit. We got the new Sellyn Drake novel already?”

Emerie holds up the book in her hand excitedly, showing off the cover. Like so many romance novels these days, it features a faceless, cartoon style couple. The man is shirtless, though, rocking a kilt, while the woman is drawn with a yellow sundress. Looping script above the cartoon characters declares the title, The Scottish High Lord and Me.

“It’s official release date is…” Gwyn starts, squinting down at the iPad and scrolling through whatever is on the screen. “Tuesday, so we’ll want to put them out Monday night after we close.”

Gwyn reaches over toward the metal shelves, swiping up the sticky notes and sharpie sitting there. She scrawls out a note, a reminder of when they’ll need to stock the books, and peels the sticky note free. She slaps it right over the cover of the book in Emerie’s hands, but Emerie is quick to peel it right back off, placing it instead on one of the other copies still in the box.

“Hey!” Gwyn chastises, narrowing her eyes.

“What?” Emerie asks, her tone overly innocent. “This is my copy.”

“Gwyn just said the book doesn’t technically release until Tuesday,” Nesta points out, snorting softly.

“What’s the point of owning a bookstore if we don’t get to read all the best releases early? Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be posting all the spoilers online or anything.”

“Good point,” Nesta agrees, reaching forward as well to grab another of the Sellyn Drake books.

“You both are terrible.”

“Oh, come on,” Emerie teases with a roll of her eyes. “You know you want to read it too.”

“Seriously, Gwyn,” Nesta adds, not even bothering to bite back her smirk as she points to the cover. “It’s a Scottish love interest.”

Gwyn huffs, seemingly determined to hold her ground with her crossed arms and narrowed gaze, but it barely lasts a few seconds. Not quite meeting either of her friends' eyes, the barest hint of a blush beginning to pool in her cheeks, she reaches forward into the box, plucking out another of the books.

Nesta and Emerie glance toward each other, sharing a knowing look, before they both burst out laughing. It feels good to laugh, to have that lightness twining around her limbs and swelling through her chest. It feels good to be squeezed back in this tiny stockroom with her best friends, her chosen sisters. She doesn’t know what she’d do without them.

They were there for her when she hit the lowest point of her life, when she well and truly felt like she hit rock bottom. They were right there beside her in the trenches, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to rage and scream at, a voice of reason and comfort. They didn’t flinch when Nesta snapped and released that swirling storm of emotion within her. They didn’t balk from her every scar, every dark crevice of her soul.

And when Nesta was ready, they helped pull her out.

“And what books are in your box?” Gwyn asks Nesta, pulling her out of her thoughts and back into the present.

Nesta shakes her head before peering into the box at her feet, pushing aside the packaging. “It looks like it’s our restock of that baseball romance that went viral.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Gwyn comments, tapping away at the iPad screen. “We should definitely put those out tonight so they’re ready for tomorrow.”

~ * * * ~

Nesta slumps back against the blankets and pillows of her bed with a soft sigh. She sinks back into the mattress, letting her arm fall over her eyes. There’s definitely a soreness lingering in her biceps from lifting all those boxes, but it was worth it.

When they finished inventory of the latest deliveries, the three of them had moved back into the main shop. Emerie had taken to restocking the shelves while Gwyn took to rearranging the table displays at the front. Nesta had taken to the registers. Math had always been a strong point for her, even when she was back in school, so it was always her job to balance their books. They all worked in perfect tandem until everything was good to go, finally closing up the shop and heading their separate ways back to their respective apartments.

Nesta allows herself another moment to simply lay in bed before hauling herself back up. She grabs the newest Sellyn Drake novel, resituating her pillows and settling back comfortably against them. Her fingers skate along the cover, down over the spine. There’s always been something about holding a fresh book in her hands. The crisp pages, the scent of parchment and ink.

Sliding her palm down the cover once more, Nesta turns to the first page, but her gaze dances away from the words and over to her nightstand. To her phone sitting there. She knows she shouldn’t, but her fingers itch with the urge all the same. With an annoyed huff, Nesta snatches up the device, navigating to her message app and the unread texts there.

Unknown number 7:12pm Did I type in the wrong number? This is Nesta, right?

Unknown number 7:37pm Feyre says this is the right number. Did she tell you I’m moving to the Seattle area? It would be really great if we could meet up!

Unknown number 9:21pm I guess you’re just really busy. My flight gets in Saturday morning, but the team is picking me up to show me around the practice facilities and locker rooms and introduce me to everyone. Maybe we could meet up in the afternoon? I’d be more than happy to buy you dinner 😏

The last message has Nesta rolling her eyes hard. It’s exactly the sort of response she expects from someone like Cassian. All the arrogance and presumptuousness that comes from being a professional athlete. She half wonders how he even fits his ego inside the locker rooms.

Nesta tosses her phone aside and returns to her book. She hasn’t broken her promise yet, and she has no intention of breaking it now. Besides, who needs a hockey player when she has a fictional Scotsman, anyways?

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies

[haddonfieldwhore]

sparks fly - will borgen

will borgen x fem!reader (part social media)

summary: you bring you favourite player a birthday gift at a kraken practice

warnings: this is pure delusion lol enjoy, fluff 🧸 please pretend the game on dec.20th was at home not in california

word count: 1.8k (i had to split it in 2 parts)

10:39am - you

you smiled excitedly as you snapped a picture of the ice, waiting for the kraken to come out for their practice. it was always fun getting to see the team on the ice in a slightly less stressful environment; no points on the line as they got ready for their next game. at the few practices you had been to, you normally didn’t try to draw much attention to yourself. you weren’t too confident in your artistic ability, so bringing a sign was out of the question, but you were hoping you would be able to get the attention of one specific player today.

it was a long shot and you knew that, but with it being your favourite player, will borgen’s birthday tomorrow, you were hoping to get a chance to give him a gift. it was overdone at this point, a simple beaded friendship bracelet with his number on it, but you wanted to show your appreciation for the kraken defensemen. there was a fair number of people scattered around the glass with signs as the players came out and skated around, and you felt yourself growing nervous. you were starting to regret not bringing a sign, and decided to type out a message on your phone in case any players came close enough to read it.

you held your phone up against the glass, and to your relief it wasn’t long before someone skated past and stopped to read it. matty beniers squinted at the small font, but smiled at you and raised his hand to say ‘one second’, before skating off towards the others. you watched as he tapped borgen on the shoulder, pointing in your direction as he said something you couldn’t hear from so far away.

you smiled as number 3 skated over to you, and you quickly typed out happy birthday on your phone to show him. he smiled back at you as you held up the bracelet, and he gestured for you to toss it over the glass. you surprisingly managed to get it to him in one try, will catching it in his bare hand, having removed his glove.

“thank you,” he said, his voice muffled by the glass and the noise of the other players skating around.

“you’re welcome,” you smiled, and he tapped the glass softly with his gloved hand before skating a few feet away to grab a stray puck off the ice, and motioning to you that he was going to toss it over the glass to you. you nodded, catching it carefully in your hands. he smiled at you one more time before joining okeksiak as he skated by, heading back to the rest of the guys.

heart still pounding in your chest, you went back to your seat, posting a picture you had taken earlier on your story while you waited for the guys to actually begin the practice.

distracted as you looked down at your phone, you failed to notice the pale green set of eyes that lingered on you from the ice. your eyes drifted towards him instinctively, and there was a weird feeling in your stomach; kind of like butterflies but more like tiny fireworks. is this what people mean when they say they feel a spark? you thought. okay, you needed to relax; there was no way he was even looking at you..right?

•

2:10pm - will

“earth to will,” vince snapped his fingers in front of his face, bringing borgen back to earth and out of the trance he was in.

“sorry, what did you say?” he asked. will and a few of the guys were currently out for lunch after practice, and will had in fact been zoned out the whole time.

“i said what are you thinking about? you’ve been out of it since practice ended.”

“oh, nothing- sorry,” will tried to brush it off.

“he’s thinking about the win we’re gonna get tomorrow for his birthday and how we’re gonna celebrate, right borgy?” tanev asked with a grin, and will laugh, taking a sip of his drink.

“yeah!” he laughed, raising his drink for the guys to toast to a hopeful win over the la kings the next day. as will lifted his glass, matty noticed a blue bracelet on his wrist, and smiled to himself. he looked at will and raised his eyebrows before nodding towards his wrist. borgen blushed a light shade of pink, carefully adjusting his jacket sleeve to cover the birthday present. he was grateful that matty didn’t say anything out loud; though he was sure he would hear about it later.

back at home that night, will was scrolling through instagram, checking his feed to see what his friends had posted. he liked and replied to a few early birthday wishes messages, before deciding to check his tagged photos. there were a few from friends, and some from fans who had been at the practice, until his heart skipped a beat as he saw a familiar bracelet.

along with it was a photo from the practice, and a quick look at the profile confirmed that is was you, the girl he’d met at the iceplex; the person who had been on his mind ever since. will had never experienced something like this before - he had met and been gifted things by fans in the past, but you were stuck in his mind like glue.

will felt slightly like he was invading your privacy as he scrolled through your photos, but you wouldn’t have tagged him in the post if you hadn’t wanted him to see it.. right? he smiled at a carousel of photos of you goofing around with your friends, and recognized a few locations around the city in photos.

will saw that you had recently added to your story: a photo of him from the practice, and he found himself smiling again.

he double tapped on the story, a little heart appearing in the corner, and he was considering replying to it, when matty walked into the room.

“hey, what’s got you smiling like a kid on christmas?” he asked, and will laughed.

“i can’t be happy on my birthday? that’s kinda like christmas.”

“you’re staring at your phone a lot and smiling - do you have a secret girlfriend or something?” matty asked, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“no,” will shook his head. “i’m not that good a liar, if i had a girlfriend you would know.”

“you’re probably right,” matty agreed, but gestured with his hand to wills wrist. “nice bracelet, by the way.”

“it was a gift,” will defended, fiddling with the beads gently. they were different shades of blue and green, some shaped like stars, and of course, the one with his jersey number on it.

“mhm,” matty teased. “from a pretty girl.”

“what does that have to do with-“

“dude you’ve obviously been thinking about her all day,” will rolled his eyes at his friend, but he knew he was right. “maybe she’ll be at the game tomorrow.” he suggested, and wills heart skipped a beat at the idea of it. it was such an obvious possibility, but the thought of it hadn’t crossed his mind.

“so what if she was?” he asked with a lighthearted sigh.

“all i’m saying is, if you wanted to see her again…” matty defended.

“do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“you’re allowed to meet people, borgs. i get what you’re saying though, so maybe just… be careful - i guess?” he said, patting will on the shoulder as we got up and headed upstairs.

“thanks that’s…” will sighed, realizing he was now talking to himself. “not helpful.”

•

9:15am - you

you woke up in the morning, rubbing your eyes before you threw a sweater over your head, stepping into your slippers. you grabbed your phone and walked downstairs to your kitchen, making a coffee and a piece of toast for breakfast and sitting down at the island sleepily.

you are you toast and almost choked on your coffee as you looked at your phone.

if that wasn’t enough, he had also liked your story and post about the practice, and you had to convince yourself that your weren’t still asleep, having some kind of dream.

you checked about three times to make sure it was really his account, not convinced despite the verified badge next to his name; but it was.

trying to not go too crazy about the fact that your favourite player had followed you, and that you had actually interacted with him the day before, you set your phone down for a moment. you finished your coffee, quickly doing the dishes and leaving them in the drying rack before going upstairs to have a shower, hoping the cool water would wash away some of the butterflies you were feeling.

•

10:02am - will

will sat on the couch at home, a cup of coffee on the table now cold from sitting there untouched for so long. after getting some sleep, he had thought for a while about if it was a bad idea to reach out to you; matty’s advice not helping him at all. he had come to the conclusion that following you couldn’t hurt, and had done it last night before crashing, wondering in the morning if he had made a mistake, but also realizing that he was making a huge deal out of something rather small.

a new story from you appeared in his feed, and he clicked on it curiously.

he thought for a second - or maybe he didn’t think - and swiped up to reply to the story.

“hey man, if you have a girl and don’t want to tell me-“ will almost jumped at the sound of matty’s voice, not having heard him come downstairs.

“i don’t,” will insisted, which was true.

“no way- you’re texting her aren’t you? the girl who gave you the bracelet!” the younger man smiled, and will sighed.

“yeah, alright fine. i found her instagram,” will admitted.

“nice, dude. show me a picture of her,” he asked, and will showed him the most recent one. “she’s gorgeous dude, good job.”

“don’t say good job-“

“she’s into you!”

“we don’t know that,” will argued, not wanting to get ahead of himself. matty wasn’t having it, and grabbed wills hand, holding up the wrist with the bracelet, which will had decided to wear again today.

“dude, she’s so into you. just see what happens. is she coming to the game?” he asked, and will shook his head.

“i asked her, she said she doesn’t have a ticket.”

“if only we knew someone close to the team who could get her one- oh wait! we’re on the team, idiot,” matty laughed at his housemate. “send her a ticket. she gets to go to the game, and you get to see her; it’s a win win.”

“are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“borgs, i’m not saying marry her, but why not? it’s just a game.”

will nodded, quickly getting a ticket to the game and replying to your message, not meaning to have left you on read for so long.

❥ click here for part two

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[crucibleknight]

can you explain the directioner->hockey pipeline, please?

yes i CAN thanks for giving me an opportunity to take a break from my homework.

so, this won’t be a very long story but it is a funny one (to me). when One Direction broke up, the girlies were lost. adrift. i wasn’t among their number, so i’ve only heard secondhand accounts, but the boyband megafans needed a new place to direct their specific type of fandom.

some of them went to kpop, pretty understandably. but a LARGE chunk of them went to the NHL. why? because every year there is the NHL draft where a fresh band of young (18-20) and (sometimes) attractive guys are paraded around like show ponies and snapped up by NHL teams. I just went to double check and the 2015/2016/2017 drafts are FULL of guys that this specific subset of hockey fandom is fixated on. the timing lines up. those draft years had a lot of decent looking guys too, which helps.

i will add that hockey coverage leans on storylines—individual players and their stories/friendships with other players/relationships with their team/achievements (source: i was a hockey reporter). this is perfect for RPF fans, because there’s a basis. two guys that are really close friends on a team are ideal for writing about. two guys who are close friends despite being on different teams provide an alternate type of story to tell. people also like to fantasize about having a relationship with a player they like, just like people fantasize about other celebrities. there are hot guys in hockey, it’s just a fact (source: i’m gay and have eyes).

so the result of this is that the hockey fanbase now consists of a lot of old-timer white men who are set in their ways and fairly conservative. and then a new incoming fanbase of young women and young queer people, who like hockey for very different reasons. i fall into the second demographic, technically, though i didn’t come to hockey through the same channels. the two are often at odds. a lot of ‘traditional’ hockey fans think that being attracted to players or having an investment in more than one team means you’re a fake fan. this is, obviously, bullshit. a lot of the directioners i knew when i was active on hockey twitter knew the game like the back of their hand.

if you look up the one direction to hockey pipeline, you’ll find a lot of tweets about it. it’s pretty established in hockey circles and it’s a point of pride for a lot of people! i don’t like RPF at all and avoid engaging with it, but i do like the fact that a huge demographic of young progressive fans can push the NHL in a better direction. it has some issues too (look up the booktok & seattle kraken drama if you want to see an example), but at the end of the day i would prefer to talk hockey with a 21 year old who’s gonna use my phone number for harry styles early access tickets (real story) than with a 60 year old ‘superfan’ who thinks the NHL shouldn’t have pride night.

[sparrow-orion-writes]

The space at night between the comfort of 3am and the exhaustion of awake too soon hold a mystery that can never be solved. It takes the shape of every person I thought I loved - just to grow bored, or restless, or irritated with.

Their silhouettes hold my interest through the gaping wound of time, but the second that I imagine a life where we still know each other, time snaps shut like the extensive jaws of a starving predator. Instead, I am alone; and the portal - the hungry mouth of time - always wants more than I can give. It pleads with me for a name, or number, or address.

Time opens in the surface of a mirror, and from it spills; an acid trip I had at 18, the battered engagement ring I was proposed to with by my now ex-fiancee, a bent out of shape aromantic pride badge, and a receipt for a cafe that no longer exists.

It opens on the scratchy surface of my threadbare carpet, as I remember nights holding her with the sheer desperation for love. To be loved. Time exists in a lint-filled pocket of a pair of jeans next to a crumpled note with a scribbled phone number.

I can reach out and touch 2021 in a strip of photographs where my hair is still red and she still believes in living. Portals, everywhere. Time like a loose thread unravelling around us, like the frayed edge of my duvet. Some part of me wants to just pull, see what knots untangle in the remnants of what was.

Time, carnivorous, has mouths in almost everything. Even the darkness holds his name, and there's a particular way the sunlight hits the window that brings the taste of cigarette smoke to my mouth. Time is not a straight line. It's a series of continuously opening wounds that, when you dig your fingers into, you can transport yourself back to simpler, happier times.

For the price of a little blood. A little heartache. A little whisper of her name. A lie. A false promise.

And then you're home once more, alone in the dark. Your wounds are just wounds, the mirror is just a mirror, and time is just the price you pay for the knowledge that some days you were better than you are. Some days you were worse. Either way, the clock strikes 5am and the darkness is a warm blanket begging you to sleep.

--

Taglist:

@gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream

@carefulpyromancer

@captain-kraken

@moonshinemagpie

[oneprotagonistshort]

posting a little bit of Feel the Earth Move (the sequel to Forces Unseen) because I've hit a little bit of a mental block and need to get hyped up lol

--

In the four years since the trip to Massachusetts that had changed everything, Dirk’s life had become much more domestic than he’d ever thought possible for someone like himself. He and Todd had settled into a routine, the agency was running smoothly, and even though they had far more brushes with death than the average couple, Dirk thought he was doing pretty well, actually. 

It wasn’t all smooth sailing though. They’d encountered their fair share of bumps in the road, like two months in when Todd had tried to tell Dirk he was in love with him, and Dirk, thinking he was getting dumped, nearly had a panic attack before Todd could get the words out. 

Or like yesterday when Dirk’s phone had been pulverized by a Seattle Kraken fanatic. 

“So some hockey asshole really just smashed your phone?” Todd asked as they stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the T-Mobile store. 

“Hockey?” Dirk asked absently, watching his new phone start up. He’d gotten a new number while he was at it, Thor wouldn’t stop texting the old one. “Hmm, no. Not the team, the actual Kraken, you know the one that lives in Puget Sound? Turns out ‘cult following’ is a bit literal in his case. I was trying to record my interrogation when one of his followers showed up and accused me of wanting to expose him.”

“You were going to expose the Kraken?”

Dirk looked up at Todd, astonished by his lack of listening comprehension. “Obviously not, I was just trying to suss out if he knew anything about the case. I have a policy against outing people without their permission, keep up Todd.”

Todd rolled his eyes but followed him into the cafe a few doors down anyway, thankfully not bringing up the fact that there was no case. There hadn’t been any new cases for weeks, Dirk had mostly just gone to visit the Kraken out of jittery restlessness and the terrible new fear of being left alone with Todd. If he really was going to propose it could theoretically come at any moment, and Dirk had spent the past few days ducking out of any conversation that looked like it might get too sincere.

The Kraken had had a few thoughts about that, but Dirk didn’t take relationship advice from someone who couldn’t even establish boundaries with his own cult.

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Leviathan Species: Human / Demon Occupation: Owner of Mephisto’s Repository Age: ??? (Looks about 34) Played by: Elliott Face Claim: Can Yaman

"There are plenty of good deeds only devils can commit. Keep an open mind, baby."

The being had been birthed with the rest of the universe, snapped into existence with no sense of what or where it was, screaming from what could have passed for a mouth, or… mouths. Then came a static hum that ripped through its neural pathways, soothing and coaxing it into a deep, dreamless sleep. One that went on for ages while the galaxies formed themselves into swirling smatterings of light in the inky, black void, the formless creature floating weightless and aimless through the stars. Until an unseen force called out to it, wreathing it in a brilliant glow and pulling it from the eternal slumber. Lights danced in front of what might have been eyes, swirling and stretching until a hole had appeared—a hole to somewhere new. The creature let itself slip into the illuminated, gaping maw, realizing with mild interest that it was no longer floating, but falling. Below it, an expanse of something blue that waved this way and that grew larger. And with a deafening crash, the massive beast slammed into its very first ocean. Dormant instincts kicked to life, and sapience was its reward.

That was a long time ago, but the creature could still recall the first cool, salty embrace of seawater that had wrenched it from its hibernation. It had made something of itself since then, mastering the abilities that had been bestowed upon it and using them to contact worlds with sentient life—in other words, entertainment. One world in particular had piqued the being’s interest, and as a result of the many trips it would make to that dimension, it had earned itself many names. Kraken, Cthulhu, Cetus, Scylla, Jörmungandr… and its favorite and perhaps the most recent—Leviathan. None of them were true, of course, none of them were the name that had been whispered in its mind on the day of its birth, but they would suffice. 

The humans—as they called themselves—were needy little things. And Leviathan, well, it was a generous benefactor. Of course there was something delightful about finding new, exciting ways to turn their own words against them. The way their self-satisfied grins would slip into a look of horror, or anger, or best of all, misery… Leviathan would subsist on that alone, if it could. This game went on for centuries until finally, stories of sea demons like the Leviathan fell out of favor with the majority of the population. And with this new rise of skepticism came a distinct lack of entertainment for the creature, or demon as it had been titled, which simply wouldn’t do. So it did what must be done and began the long, arduous process of acclimating itself to this new generation of humanity.

Things tend to get boring when life stretches out limitlessly in front of you. How many new experiences could the world possibly offer? Leviathan was thinking this to itself as it strangled the presumptuous woman that had summoned it from its home dimension, to demand power and everlasting life. Things the demon could give, to be certain, but her tone was sour; the vitriol with which she commanded the otherworldly being to bend to her will because she’d dialed the right interstellar phone number didn’t sit quite right in the pit of Leviathan’s stomach. So it killed her and her husband, and stared down at the little babbling child that was being offered in exchange for their own longevity. New experiences… it certainly hadn’t ever given this a try, it thought as it picked up the child and braced them against its now-human hip. A hand pressed to the babe’s chest, their ribcage glowing as the language as ancient as Leviathan itself was etched into bone, bonding them. Giving the child a small bit of the power that Leviathan harbored, just for the hell of it. Just to see what would happen. 

That was around thirty years ago. As the child grew, so did their power, and interestingly… Leviathan’s seemed to wax and wane. Assuming a human identity to better raise the tainted little hellion, the demon found itself shackled with emotions it had never previously experienced, realizing too late that in binding the child to itself, it had built a bridge between them that ushered the flow of demonic power in both directions. After Leviathan helped a human friend of its child defeat the greater demon that controlled their family via a cult, this bridge had to be destroyed in order for it to safely escape from this reality. It took back the power it had given the child and fled, knowing that more of its own ilk would be scrambling to ‘correct’ the behavior of the demon-killer. 

They found it, and did indeed design a method of punishing the breaking of this unspoken rule. There was no precedent for such a crime, for the greater demons had never thought of any of their actions as crimes, but they had also never feared for their own existence. Leviathan was sent back to Wicked’s Rest with a new, secret purpose. If it broke the deal it had been forced into, the punishment would be the shackles of a mantle that Leviathan had no interest in accepting, valuing its own freedom above all else.

Character Facts:

Personality: Predatory, dissolute, insensitive, volatile, impulsive, confident, protective, persuasive, charming

It has assumed the legal identity of one Chuck Jones and will refer to itself as such with strangers and acquaintances. Only those who know it quite well will call it Levi or Leviathan. Same goes with the pronouns. To most, the demon is ‘he’ or ‘they’, and it has no problem with that. It may refer to itself this way even around those that know of its true nature. 

Even in this dimension and in a human disguise, Leviathan retains its understanding of every single dead and living human language, and can respond to someone in any tongue spoken to it. This also includes the vast library of demonic tongues that have existed long before humans.

It has the ability to create verbal and written contracts with those who are willing—in exchange for whatever it deems appropriate at the time, though there is some speculation that it is collecting souls just like the old stories say. This has been turned into a rather successful business model, which Leviathan runs out of a shop of oddities called ‘Mephisto’s Repository’. On its face, it is a tourist trap that sells ‘cursed’ items, but for those who are in the know, there is a red door that leads to the back where magic deals are struck.

Despite being as old as time itself and definitely infinitely wise (definitely), Leviathan has been significantly influenced by humans and their culture and has unconsciously adopted many of their habits and quirks. It appears deeply unserious when compared to its own kind, which has always been a source of irritation for other greater demons. Leviathan doesn’t think of it as embarrassing though, it just thinks humans are neat!

Just because someone asks for something doesn’t mean Leviathan will give it. It may be all-powerful (right?) but it’s still a demon, and will still require hefty sacrifices for hefty requests. Or it may flat out refuse. Why should it have to be constantly working for the benefit of others? That doesn’t seem fair.

It LOVES mangoes and mango-flavored foods. It goes wild for that shit. If you catch it on a really good day, a mango flavored treat might just be enough to strike a deal.

[writingmaidenwarrior]

Six Sentence Sunday

I was tagged by @sam-glade and since I have a day off and therefore this still counts as Sunday, here we are. Mika checked the time on the phone and huffed. It was still early, barely eight, and she had nothing left to do what made her itchy. Moving the phone in her hands, she went through her options. “Nah, fuck it”, she burst out and dialed Connor’s number. It took a long time until he picked up. “Yeah?” “Mika here, am I disturbing something?” “Just my wife trying to kill me. You alright?... Ow, what was that for?” In the background, Mika could hear someone laughing. I tag you right back as you asked @sam-glade and also tag @sunset-a-story @writernopal @ryns-ramblings @radley-writes @captain-kraken

[straightupsickfics]

blinked and wrote 3k+ of new relationship, modern au ed and stede, in which stede asks ed for a ride to urgent care :(( truly no plot just feelings <3

****

Ed picks up his phone and sets it down for what has to be the fiftieth time today. He feels like an idiot, like a schoolgirl with a crush, like someone adrift at sea, all at once. He hasn’t felt so much since, well, he can’t quite put his finger on when the fuck he last felt like this, so much and so completely for someone so quickly. 

Possibly he’s never felt like this before. 

He’s been in lust before, in his younger years when all that mattered was leaving this or that bar with the hot stranger he’d just met. And while yes, he definitely feels that way for Stede Bonnet, too, this is something else. He knew it almost as soon as he met the man, tumbled right into him really, with the way Kraken had dragged him down the street and towards the gorgeous blond with the golden retriever in the park. 

(He didn't know, then, just how fitting it was for a man who embodied sunshine to have a golden retriever.)

They’d hit it right off, chatting with surprising ease as their dogs sniffed at each other, and Ed left the park that day with a skip in his step, a new number in his phone, and a smile plastered across his face that seemed to only grow as he and Stede started texting, and then finally met up for their first date. 

No dogs on that date, though Stede regaled Ed with plenty of stories of himself and Bonny throughout their dinner. (Delicious, perfect, eaten outside as the sun set around them and made Stede's hair look like a halo.) Ed learned that Stede was fairly recently divorced, had two children he saw every other week, and that he had gotten Bonny to keep him company.

He’d also found that Stede had an affinity for all things pirates, just like Ed himself, and that he'd named the dog after the infamous pirate Anne Bonny.

Bit silly, really, she’s hardly a fearsome dog, after all… Stede had said, blushing and trailing off in a way that made Ed desperate to reassure him and kiss him all at once. He’d settled on a squeeze of his hand across the table, told him he loved pirates, too, and reminded Stede that he himself had named his tiny dog after a sea monster.

Another thing we have in common, then, Stede had beamed at him across the table, and Ed knew he was fucked then and there. 

It’s hard for him to relate to people most of the time, and it’s only gotten harder as he’s gotten older, found more and more people just… boring, so determined to be just like everyone else. He hadn’t been on a proper first date in nearly two years by the time he met Stede, and now he can’t stop thinking about him. 

Lucky for him, Stede seems to feel the same way, texting him things that made him think of him, sharing pictures of Bonny and the occasional treasured selfie. 

Stede had been quiet for the last few days, though, and it’s fucking Ed up more than he cares to admit or examine too closely. He knows Stede likes him, he’d said as much, in his own, tentative way. Plus, Ed isn’t going to pressure the newly divorced, very newly out man for more than he’s comfortable giving. It’s just… 

Ed misses him. Already. 

When Ed looks at his phone and finds that no new texts had come in in the two minutes since he checked last time, even Kraken sighs and lays down on his paws. 

“Pathetic, I know. I could just text him myself, just to check in…” 

Kraken doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, though, curled into a tight little ball, and Ed rolls his eyes. “You’re no help,” he huffs. 

He examines his phone, types and deletes and types some more until he has something nonchalant enough that he feels comfortable sending. 

If you’re up for it, I found a bottle of that whiskey I was telling you about the other night. Feel up for a drink tonight? 

Ed had run nearly all over town trying to find the specific, pirate-themed whiskey they talked about over dinner, in fact, but he leaves that part out. His phone lights up with a reply almost immediately though, and Ed tries his best not to lunge for it, only for his heart to plummet. 

Maybe a raincheck on the whiskey? 

Yeah, of course, no problem. Let me know what works, yeah?

Ed is patting himself on the back for sounding so chill about it all when Stede texts again. 

Actually, though, if you’re not busy… And if you don’t mind, would you be able to give me a ride somewhere? 

Ed reads the message through twice. From what he knows about Stede, he’s not one to ask for things, let alone ask for help with things, unless he really needs it. 

Yeah, of course, where to? And when?

Now, maybe? To an urgent care... I’m afraid I’ve come down with something these last few days. Head’s a mess, think I’ve got a fever, the whole nine yards :( ...Only if you can! 

Stede, of course I can. Send me your address and I’ll be right there. 

Ed pours Kraken’s dinner in his bowl since he’s not sure quite how long he’ll be gone, gives him a kiss on the head, and then books it out to his car. 

Sick. Ed feels immediately guilty for doubting Stede over a few day’s silence. It was out of character for him, but not because he’d changed his mind, because he’d suffered quietly, alone for nearly three days. 

When Ed pulls up to Stede’s house, he takes in the neatly trimmed bushes, the carefully planted flowers, unable to help drinking in these new bits of Stede he’s seeing for the first time. He’s pulling out his phone to let Stede know he’s there when the door opens and Stede comes out, apparently already more than ready to go. 

He looks terrible, Ed can see that much from the car. His hair is all out of place, for one thing, the curls all askew rather than carefully combed into place the way they usually are. He’s pale, too, with a flush to his cheeks that definitely speaks to the fever he mentioned. Besides all of that, he just looks… tired. Like the last few days have sapped him of energy entirely. He looks a little shaky on his feet, too, no doubt from the fever, and Ed gets out to help him into the car. 

“Oh, hi, Ed,” Stede says, a little shyly. “I’m so sorry about all this, I’ve just been. Well, surely you can tell how I’ve been. And I didn’t… ah, have anyone else to call.” He looks a little ashamed at this admission, and Ed doesn’t let himself hesitate before pulling him into a hug. 

“Hey, it’s alright. I had no plans today, and you can always call me. Could’ve called me when you first started feeling bad, in fact. Here, let me…” Ed pulls the car door open and then shuts in once Stede is inside, tugging his seatbelt on. 

He just looks... beat. Up close, Ed can see how red and chapped Stede’s nose is, how red-rimmed and tired his eyes are, glassy rather than bright and lively the way they usually are. His voice is shot, too, and Ed has to stop himself from telling him to rest it every time Stede speaks. That would just make him feel worse, Ed’s sure of it. 

They drive quietly for a few blocks, Ed fiddling with the radio until he lands on a Fleetwood Mac song they both like. 

“We’ll be there soon, alright?” 

“Right, yes,” Stede says, clearing his throat. “Don’t think I’ve snf! n’deeded an urgent care in years,” he comments.

“Strong constitution you’ve got, then,” Ed says, smiling over at him. “Feels like I’m sick once a quarter at least.” 

“Really?” Stede looks surprised by this, as though tattoos and a beard might make one immune to the common cold, and Ed can’t help but laugh a little. 

“Yeah, mate,” he says. He leans over and gives Stede’s knee a little squeeze, just so he knows Ed isn’t laughing at him, and then they're arriving, Ed pulling smoothly into the lot of the urgent care. 

It feels like a bit much to hold Stede’s hand while they walk to the door, though the idea does cross Ed’s mind, especially when Stede turns to the side to cough into his elbow. He looks so worn out from the effort of it that something in Ed’s own chest squeezes a bit. 

When they reach the front desk, Ed talks quietly to the woman sitting there, taking a clipboard from her and leading Stede over to a set of two chairs in a corner. 

“I can take care of this,” Ed tells him. “Might just need help with some of the details. Here, sit down before you fall down, love.” The word love slips from his mouth unbidden, and before he can course correct, Stede slumps down into the chair and nods up at him, eyes glassier than before, looking bright with unshed tears. 

“Y’sure?” Stede asks. “I can really just..” 

“Positive. Now: middle name?” 

“Bontague… Snf! Snf! Sorry, umb, M’bontague. Ugh, Snf!” Stede scrubs at his nose determinedly, trying to get his M sounds back, but his nose is too stuffed up for it to do more than make it more red and angry-looking. 

“Hey, don’t do that, your poor nose has been through enough, I think,” Ed says, gently curling his hand around Stede’s wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. Stede gives him a small, apologetic little smile, and together they get the forms filled in and returned to the nurse at the front desk, who tells Ed they’ll be next. 

“Shouldn’t be too long. Here, you can… rest your head here, if that helps…” Ed says, gesturing to his shoulder. His heart hammers as he says it, but Stede takes him up on it almost immediately, laying his head on Ed’s shoulder like it belongs there, like they’ve done this all their lives. 

Ed leans over and presses the smallest, fastest kiss to the top of Stede’s head. Because, Ed tells himself, Stede could use the comfort. He looks and clearly feels terrible, he’d been dealing with this alone for days now, and, well, Ed is so full of affection for the man beside him that he really cannot help himself. 

“Thank you, Ed,” Stede murmurs quietly at the touch. His eyes flutter shut, and they sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, Stede resting and Ed scrolling nervously through his phone. 

Stede sits up quickly, though, red-rimmed nostrils visibly twitching, then sneezes four times in quick succession. 

“Hh’iItssHHH! Uh’huUSHHEW! Huh… hdt’Dshhh! EH’EeiiSHH! sNf!” Stede blinks a few times, rubbing at his nose with a well-worn tissue he pulls from his pocket, and sniffles through yet another apology. 

“God bless you. Stede…” Ed says, his voice so full of concern now that he’s dangerously close to cooing. “New rule. No more apologizing for sick people things, alright? I don’t care, I swear.” 

Stede nods his agreement, still sniffling, and Ed gets up and crosses the room to grab a handful of tissues from a box he’d spotted at the front desk. Stede gives his nose a good few blows, and Ed can hear him biting back more sorry’s and excuse me’s as he does. 

Before either of them can say anything else, though, the nurse is calling Stede back into an exam room, and Ed is left to scroll mindlessly through his phone again, Stede disappearing with a quick squeeze of his hand. 

Thirty minutes later, Stede comes out, giving Ed a tired wave of his hand as he makes his way back to the desk to check out. 

“Just a … gosh, excuse m-mbe… Ehh’IITSHH! Snf! Just a virus,” Stede tells him as they make their way back to the car. “Fluid and lots of rest, the doctor said. Not mbuch m’bore I can… oh, not again!” Stede’s face crumples again as another set of sneezes shiver through him. 

“Hh’Dshh! Tshhh! Uh…Huh-UhhTSHH!”

“Bless you!” 

“Thank you, Ed. Seems I’ve… opened the floodgates, so to speak,” Stede sighs. “This really isn’t the impression’d I was hoping to make this early on.” 

Ed starts the car, leaning over once more to squeeze Stede’s knee. He lets it rest there, this time, turning the heat on in the car when he sees Stede shiver again. 

“Hey, it’s alright. Before this d’you know what I was doing?” Ed asks, deciding he can let himself be a little vulnerable for Stede, too. “Sitting at home, writing and rewriting that text to you, wondering if you’d changed your mind about me.” 

Stede whips his head to the side to look at him. “Edward, no,” he says quickly. “I’ve been asleep more than not these last few days, trying to sleep away this dreadful cold so I could see you again properly.”

“I know that now,” Ed says. “All I mean is, you don’t have to worry about making an impression one way or another. You’ve already made one, mate.” 

Stede coughs a few times into his elbow, then lets his hand come to rest on top of Ed’s on his knee. “Well, that’s…” He trails off, smiling a little at Ed instead. 

Ed smiles back, can’t help himself, really. He never can, it seems, when it comes to Stede Bonnet. 

When they pull back into Stede’s driveway, Ed doesn’t think twice before getting out of the car and helping Stede up to the door. What he doesn’t expect is for Stede to look at him, almost bashful, and ask if he’d like to come in for a little while. 

“Company would be nice, if you don’t mind all the sneezing and sniffling, and… general air of illness around the place.” Stede is pink-cheeked again, though Ed thinks this particular flush is less to do with his fever and more to do with what he’s asking. 

Behind him, Bonny is prancing excitedly, clearly thrilled to see Ed again, and Ed reaches out to give her a pat on the head. “You remember me? That’s a good sign,” Ed smiles before turning back to Stede.

“‘Course I’ll stay, Stede,” Ed says. “No one should be this sick alone. D’you have medicine in there, or… I can go pick something up for you…?” He’s nervous himself, suddenly, going into Stede’s space, sitting on his couch, letting Stede fall asleep on his shoulder again the way he had in the freezing urgent care waiting room. 

“I’mb very well stocked, I think, but thank you, Ed,” Stede tells him. 

His house is lovely inside, and already has that cozy, lived-in feeling that Stede himself seems to exude. There are books just about everywhere, on shelves and on the floor, and paintings and pictures on the walls, most of them of Stede’s two children and Bonny. He’s got more throw pillows and blankets than one person could ever realistically use, and it seems impossible, but Ed falls for the man even harder as he takes it all in. He pictures Stede here, curled up with a book and one of his many cups of tea, reading all day, and it doesn’t take much for him to imagine himself there just beside him. 

“Nice place you got here,” Ed says as Stede makes his way to the couch, dropping onto it with a stuffy, tired sigh. Bonny sits by his feet, then rests her head on his knee as if she knows just how bad he feels. Which, Ed knows from experience, is probably true. 

“Oh? You think so? I’ve tried to make it as homey as I can, given the limited time I’ve been here,” Stede says. He scrubs a hand over his face, blinking a few times. “I’d give you the tour, but as you said earlier, I felt a bit at risk of falling down if I didn’t sit down.”

“Tour can wait. Just point me to your medicine cabinet and I’ll be right back.” 

By the time Ed comes back, cold and flu medicine and bag of cough drops in hand, Stede has pulled one of the blankets down from the couch and over himself, his head resting back against the couch cushions. 

“Stede? Y’still with me?” Ed asks softly. When Stede’s eyes flutter open with a nod, he puts the supplies down on the coffee table and makes his way to the kitchen for some water. Tea could come later, when Stede’s feeling a bit more settled. 

Stede swallows down the medicine with a grimace, then seems to realize that Ed is still hovering by the coffee table. 

“Sit with mbe?” Stede asks, his voice tired and tentative, and yeah Ed would do just about anything for this man, and his sick day clothes, and his red nose, and the way he looks up at Ed as if he’s afraid he’ll vanish before his eyes. 

“Right, yeah, I can… I can do that. Fed the beast before I left so I’ve got nowhere to be,” Ed says. Stede’s couch is soft and perfect and probably ridiculously expensive, but Ed hardly has a chance to appreciate any of that before Stede shifts himself over so that they’re pressed in close together from shoulder to thigh. 

Beside him, Stede inhales sharply, and Ed’s already reaching for tissues as Stede snaps forward with another rough-sounding sneeze.

“Hh’HdtSHH! Iii’TSHH! God, listen to mbe,” Stede says with a shake of his head.

He takes the tissues from Ed gratefully, snuffling into them for a minute before sighing. “I know we talked about this but, I really do appreciate you coming with me,” Stede tells him. “I’ve never… well, like I said, I didn’t know who else to call, but besides that I really wanted you to… I don’t know. Be here.” 

At this, Ed really and truly melts. Poor sick Stede, wanted Ed to be there with him. When was the last time someone had needed him, let alone wanted him? Ed truly can’t recall, and he’s suddenly terrified he’ll do something and fuck it all up, like cry right here on Stede’s couch. 

Instead, he leans over and presses another gentle kiss to Stede’s forehead, then to his cheek. 

“I want to be here, too. I… hope you know I mean that,” Ed says. 

Stede nods, snuggles himself closer to Ed and lifts the blanket so it’s covering Ed, too. “I know,” Stede murmurs. It’s the most sure of anything he’s sounded all day, and Ed’s relieved for it. He turns and meets Stede’s eye, smiling widely all over again. He wonders, briefly, if it should feel weird, being here with Stede, like this, so soon.

Feeling so much so soon. 

But ever since that day in the park, Ed's become more and more sure that their paths were meant, if not destined, to cross. And after so many years spent sure of the fact that he wanted to be — and was better off — on his own, well. Ed lets himself have this. Have Stede. 

“Y’ can sleep if you want. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Ed promises. 

Stede's already dozing, though, comfortable and warm with Ed beside him.

[puckgoss]

Love ya but totally disagree that Dunn played this year like he did last year. Discounting the injury and its impact on his scoring and stats, his level of intensity was so inconsistent. Some games he was focused, dialed in, and his on ice communication with Larsson was near telepathic. Others? He was phoning it in - literally watching plays go past him with absolutely no effort to stop them, not being where he needed to be, sloppy on the forecheck, etc. You didn’t know which Dunn was going to be on the ice from round about December on. I was one of the people defending the big contract he signed last summer, but as of now, I’m eating my words. I’m hoping he pulls it together over the summer, gets back in shape, and we see 22-23 Dunn again. When he’s all in, he’s an absolute force.

i said he played well not like he played as well as last year, if you look at his numbers and the underlying data he had a good season overall, even if he wasn't playing as well as & as consistently as last year. he's set a high bar for himself but that doesn't mean he had a bad season

the kraken overachieved in general last season, their shooting % was through the roof

[mp0625]

Pfirsich

Taglist. Masterlist.

Philipp Grubauer x Reader

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: This is for @wyattjohnston ‘s summer fic exchange 2k24!!!! This was so fun to write!!!!! Thank you!!!!!!! This fic was written for @rossmccallsqueen I had so much fun writing it for you!!!! I love how it turned out!!! Hope you love it!!! Sorry it took a few days to get up I had some technical difficulties.

When Phillipp and his ex girlfriend split, he never thought that he would meet someone at the little Grocery store near his house in Seattle getting snacks for his trip back home to Germany for the off season. But when you came up next to him in the international aisle looking for the Haribo peach rings that you could only get in Germany. “Have you seen the peach rings anywhere?” You casually ask scanning the shelves looking for them. “I bought some in Germany last month when I was there, and I ran out of my last bag a week ago. And I’ve been searching every grocery store I can find with an international aisle, and I can’t find them anywhere.”

“Are they the one with the light pink and orange bag and the German label?” He asks, looking over at you for the first time.

“Yes!” You stop scanning the shelf to see if they have them, to look over at him with wonder and excitement. “Have you seen them?”

“Yes.” He says with a goofy grin. “Back home in Germany.”

You look over to him with a deadpan look. “Not helpful.” And going to start to walk away to get the other things on your list.

“It might be!” He calls, jogging up next to you. “I’m leaving to go back home to Germany tomorrow and I can bring you some back.”

“You would do that for a complete stranger?” Looking over at him in disbelief.

“You seem pretty nice.”

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“Two weeks.” He said with a smile.

“I don’t know about that.” Unsure of what you are doing, taking a strange but handsome man’s offer of bringing you home candy. All of your childhood’s stranger danger classes rushing through your head.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now, but here’s my number text me if you want, and to make sure I’m not a serial killer that is going to poison your candy.” He said with a small laugh and handed you a small folded piece of paper.

————————————————————————

As you sit in your small office thinking about the guy you met at the store last night. The piece of paper burning a hole in your pocket, you decide what the hell and text him. “Hey, it's the candy girl.” “No no no.” You mutter to yourself and delete it and start again. “Hey, it’s the lady from the store. I decided to take you up on the offer for candy. If it’s possible to get 6 bags that would be lovely. Thank you!” Once you sent the text, you figure so you don’t obsess over every word you said and whether it was a mistake or not to send it in the first place. You shut your phone off and shove it back into your bag. And try to get back to work, but the only thing on your mind was the German Gentlemen bringing you home candy.

As Phillipp’s Plane lands in Munich, he takes his phone off airplane mode and sees the sea of standard chatter from the Kraken’s off season group chat, where people are at, food, and if anyone has proposed. But when he gets to the end of the notifications he sees one from an unknown number. When he sees the preview of the text. “Hey, it’s the lady from the store. I decided to take..” He knew exactly who it was and pulled up the message immediately, not caring about the nine hour time difference. “Hey, sorry just saw your message. Was flying to Germany. I would love to pick you up six bags! Is there anything else you want or need?” He sent and started his walk to baggage claim. As he was grabbing his bags he got his response earlier than he was expecting considering the early time it was out there.

“Yay! Thank you. We can work out a time and date, closer to time. I can’t think of anything else I need. If I think of anything I’ll let you know. Hope you had a good flight!”

————————————————————————

Later in the morning, as you sit at your desk between meetings you decide to text the man you now know as Phillipp but he said to call him Grubi. “I know it’s late there.” You start having downloaded a world clock to know the time in Germany. “But can you tell me a little about yourself?” You set your phone back down on your desk to start some paperwork not expecting a text back as it was getting later in Germany you were pleasantly surprised when you saw his name pop up.

“Sure! I’m 32, born and raised in Rosenheim, Germany. I grew up playing hockey. I play goaltender. I came over in 08’ to play for a minor league team at 18 and I went back and forth between Canada and Germany for a few years before I got drafted in 2010 by the Washington Capitals. I played there until 2017-2018 when I moved to Colorado. I played there for three seasons then I moved to Seattle. I have horses. And one of my nicknames is The German Gentlemen.”

“Whoa! I’m definitely not as cool as you! I’m 28, born and raised right here in beautiful Seattle, Washington. I went to the University of Washington for Marketing and I work for Starbucks doing most of the marketing for the new drinks. I have two cats and a dog. That’s so cool that you have horses, I grew up riding.”

“No you definitely are super cool! What is it like getting a Marketing degree?”

“It was interesting! We did lots of public relations classes and I did two different photography classes.”

As the two weeks pass the two of you start from talking once a day to every free second of every day. The two of you talk about everything from the names of your pets to childhood stories. Getting closer and closer.

————————————————————————

The day that his flight back to the US finally came, you were nervous but excited to see the man that you had grown close to over the past two weeks. The flight that was a middle of the day flight for Germany was a red eye back to Seattle and would get back to Seattle at 8 in the morning. Before he left Germany and before you went to bed you texted one last time.

“Hey, have a good flight! I’ll talk to you and see you in the morning. I can’t wait to see you! Sending hugs!”

“See you soon.” He hit send just before turning on his airplane mode. As his plane took off and made its way back to the US and you. He slowly got more and more excited to see you.

After a long and boring 11 hour flight, the plane touches down and he finally got to turn off his airplane mode. When he gets to turn his phone on he gets to see a message from you saying. “Good morning! Hope you have a great flight! Can’t wait to see you in a few hours.”

Once he gets through baggage claim and down to the parking garage and finally finds his car. He plugs the address of the coffee shop that y’all are meeting at and the GPS said it’s only twenty minutes away, and he has a hour before you were supposed to meet so he decided to run home to take a shower to get the grime of a travel day off and be nice and clean when you see him.

After his shower and everything he hits the road to the coffee shop. He hit bad traffic due to a wreck and was stuck in stop start traffic for 15 minutes past the time you had set up to meet. After sitting in traffic for the first five minutes. He called you to let you know what was happening. “Hey, I’m going to be a little late. I’m stuck in heavy traffic and I don’t know when it will end.” After an additional 10 minutes of sitting he finally made it to the coffee shop.

You meet each other at the doorway with a hug. “Good to see you! I missed you.” You whisper into his chest.

“It’s good to see you too. I missed you too. I have something here for you.”

“My peach rings!” You exclaim with a cheer.

“Here you go.” Passing a large shopping bag to you.

Peeking into the abnormally heavy shopping bag.“I asked for 6 bags of peach rings, not 60.” You said with a laugh.

“Oops”

Taglist: @studioreader @honethatty12

@slafgoalskybaby @swissboyhisch

@wondershells @cixrosie

[omg-just-peachy]

someone to call | ed/stede

flufftober day three: sickfic | ~3k

stede asks ed for a ride to urgent care.

also on AO3

****

Ed picks up his phone and sets it down for what has to be the fiftieth time today. He feels like an idiot, like a schoolgirl with a crush, like someone adrift at sea, all at once. He hasn’t felt so much since, well, he can’t quite put his finger on when the fuck he last felt like this, so much and so completely for someone so quickly. 

Possibly he’s never felt like this before. 

He’s been in lust before, in his younger years when all that mattered was leaving this or that bar with the hot stranger he’d just met. And while yes, he definitely feels that way for Stede Bonnet, too, this is something else. He knew it almost as soon as he met the man, tumbled right into him really, with the way Kraken had dragged him down the street and towards the gorgeous blond with the golden retriever in the park. 

(He didn't know, then, just how fitting it was for a man who embodied sunshine to have a golden retriever.)

They’d hit it right off, chatting with surprising ease as their dogs sniffed at each other, and Ed left the park that day with a skip in his step, a new number in his phone, and a smile plastered across his face that seemed to only grow as he and Stede started texting, and then finally met up for their first date. 

No dogs on that date, though Stede regaled Ed with plenty of stories of himself and Bonny throughout their dinner. (Delicious, perfect, eaten outside as the sun set around them and made Stede's hair look like a halo.) Ed learned that Stede was fairly recently divorced, had two children he saw every other week, and that he had gotten Bonny to keep him company.

He’d also found that Stede had an affinity for all things pirates, just like Ed himself, and that he'd named the dog after the infamous pirate Anne Bonny.

Bit silly, really, she’s hardly a fearsome dog, after all… Stede had said, blushing and trailing off in a way that made Ed desperate to reassure him and kiss him all at once. He’d settled on a squeeze of his hand across the table, told him he loved pirates, too, and reminded Stede that he himself had named his tiny dog after a sea monster.

Another thing we have in common, then, Stede had beamed at him across the table, and Ed knew he was fucked then and there. 

It’s hard for him to relate to people most of the time, and it’s only gotten harder as he’s gotten older, found more and more people just… boring, so determined to be just like everyone else. He hadn’t been on a proper first date in nearly two years by the time he met Stede, and now he can’t stop thinking about him. 

Lucky for him, Stede seems to feel the same way, texting him things that made him think of him, sharing pictures of Bonny and the occasional treasured selfie. 

Stede had been quiet for the last few days, though, and it’s fucking Ed up more than he cares to admit or examine too closely. He knows Stede likes him, he’d said as much, in his own, tentative way. Plus, Ed isn’t going to pressure the newly divorced, very newly out man for more than he’s comfortable giving. It’s just… 

Ed misses him. Already. 

When Ed looks at his phone and finds that no new texts had come in in the two minutes since he checked last time, even Kraken sighs and lays down on his paws. 

“Pathetic, I know. I could just text him myself, just to check in…” 

Kraken doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, though, curled into a tight little ball, and Ed rolls his eyes. “You’re no help,” he huffs. 

He examines his phone, types and deletes and types some more until he has something nonchalant enough that he feels comfortable sending. 

If you’re up for it, I found a bottle of that whiskey I was telling you about the other night. Feel up for a drink tonight? 

Ed had run nearly all over town trying to find the specific, pirate-themed whiskey they talked about over dinner, in fact, but he leaves that part out. His phone lights up with a reply almost immediately though, and Ed tries his best not to lunge for it, only for his heart to plummet. 

Maybe a raincheck on the whiskey? 

Yeah, of course, no problem. Let me know what works, yeah?

Ed is patting himself on the back for sounding so chill about it all when Stede texts again. 

Actually, though, if you’re not busy… And if you don’t mind, would you be able to give me a ride somewhere? 

Ed reads the message through twice. From what he knows about Stede, he’s not one to ask for things, let alone ask for help with things, unless he really needs it. 

Yeah, of course, where to? And when?

Now, maybe? To an urgent care... I’m afraid I’ve come down with something these last few days. Head’s a mess, think I’ve got a fever, the whole nine yards :( ...Only if you can! 

Stede, of course I can. Send me your address and I’ll be right there. 

Ed pours Kraken’s dinner in his bowl since he’s not sure quite how long he’ll be gone, gives him a kiss on the head, and then books it out to his car. 

Sick. Ed feels immediately guilty for doubting Stede over a few day’s silence. It was out of character for him, but not because he’d changed his mind, because he’d suffered quietly, alone for nearly three days. 

When Ed pulls up to Stede’s house, he takes in the neatly trimmed bushes, the carefully planted flowers, unable to help drinking in these new bits of Stede he’s seeing for the first time. He’s pulling out his phone to let Stede know he’s there when the door opens and Stede comes out, apparently already more than ready to go. 

He looks terrible, Ed can see that much from the car. His hair is all out of place, for one thing, the curls all askew rather than carefully combed into place the way they usually are. He’s pale, too, with a flush to his cheeks that definitely speaks to the fever he mentioned. Besides all of that, he just looks… tired. Like the last few days have entirely sapped him of energy. He looks a little shaky on his feet, too, no doubt from the fever, and Ed gets out to help him into the car. 

“Oh, hi, Ed,” Stede says, almost shyly. “I’m so sorry about all this, I’ve just been. Well, surely you can tell how I’ve been. And I didn’t… ah, know who else to call.” He looks a little ashamed at this admission, and Ed doesn’t let himself hesitate before pulling him into a hug. 

“Hey, it’s alright. I had no plans today, and you can always call me. Could’ve called me when you first started feeling bad, in fact. Here, let me…” Ed pulls the car door open and then shuts in once Stede is inside, tugging his seatbelt on. 

He just looks... beat. Up close, Ed can see how red and chapped Stede’s nose is, how red-rimmed and tired his eyes are, glassy rather than bright and lively the way they usually are. His voice is shot, too, and Ed has to stop himself from telling him to rest it every time Stede speaks. That would just make him feel worse, Ed’s sure of it. 

They drive quietly for a few blocks, Ed fiddling with the radio until he lands on a Fleetwood Mac song they both like. 

“We’ll be there soon, alright?” 

“Right, yes,” Stede says, clearing his throat. “Don’t think I’ve snf! needed to go to an urgent care in years,” he comments.

“Strong constitution you’ve got, then,” Ed says, smiling over at him. “Feels like I’m sick once a quarter at least.” 

“Really?” Stede looks surprised by this, as though tattoos and a beard might make one immune to the common cold, and Ed can’t help but laugh a little. 

“Yeah, mate,” he says. He leans over and gives Stede’s knee a little squeeze, just so he knows Ed isn’t laughing at him, and then they're arriving, Ed pulling smoothly into the lot of the urgent care. 

It feels like a bit much to hold Stede’s hand while they walk to the door, though the idea does cross Ed’s mind, especially when Stede turns to the side to cough into his elbow. He looks so worn out from the effort of it that something in Ed’s own chest squeezes a bit. 

When they reach the front desk, Ed talks quietly to the woman sitting there, taking a clipboard from her and leading Stede over to a set of two chairs in a corner. 

“I can take care of this,” Ed tells him. “Might just need help with some of the details. Here, sit down before you fall down, love.” The word love slips from his mouth unbidden, and before he can course correct, Stede slumps down into the chair and nods up at him, eyes glassier than before, looking bright with unshed, feverish tears. 

“Y’sure?” Stede asks. “I can really just..” 

“Positive. Now: middle name?” 

“Montague." It comes out more nasally, congestion getting the better of him. "Ugh, sorry.” Stede scrubs at his nose determinedly, trying to get his M sounds back, but his nose is too stuffed up for it to do more than make it more red and angry-looking. 

“Hey, don’t do that, your poor nose has been through enough, I think,” Ed says, gently curling his hand around Stede’s wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. Stede gives him a small, apologetic little smile, and together they get the forms filled in and returned to the nurse at the front desk, who tells Ed they’ll be next. 

“Shouldn’t be too long. Here, you can… rest your head here, if that helps…” Ed says, gesturing to his shoulder. His heart hammers as he says it, but Stede takes him up on it almost immediately, laying his head on Ed’s shoulder like it belongs there, like they’ve done this all their lives. 

Ed leans over and presses the smallest, fastest kiss to the top of Stede’s head. Because, Ed tells himself, Stede could use the comfort. He looks and clearly feels terrible, he’d been dealing with this alone for days now, and, well, Ed is so full of affection for the man beside him that he really cannot help himself. 

“Thank you, Ed,” Stede murmurs quietly at the touch. His eyes flutter shut, and they sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, Stede resting and Ed scrolling nervously through his phone. 

Stede sits up quickly, though, red-rimmed nostrils visibly twitching, then sneezes four times in quick succession. 

Stede blinks a few times afterwards, rubbing at his nose with a tissue he pulls from his pocket, and sniffles through yet another apology. 

“God bless you. Stede…” Ed says, his voice so full of concern now that he’s dangerously close to cooing. “New rule. No more apologizing for sick people things, alright? I don’t care, I swear.” 

Stede nods his agreement, still sniffling, and Ed gets up and crosses the room to grab a handful of tissues from a box he’d spotted at the front desk. Stede gives his nose a good few blows, and Ed can hear him biting back more sorry’s and excuse me’s as he does. 

Before either of them can say anything else, though, the nurse is calling Stede back into an exam room, and Ed is left to scroll mindlessly through his phone again, Stede disappearing with a quick squeeze of his hand. 

Thirty minutes later, Stede comes out, giving Ed a tired wave of his hand as he makes his way back to the desk to check out. 

“Just a virus,” Stede tells him as they make their way back to the car. “Fluid and lots of rest, the doctor said. Not much m’bore I can… oh, not again!” Stede’s face crumples again as another set of sneezes shiver through him. 

“Bless you!” 

“Thank you, Ed. Seems I’ve… opened the floodgates, so to speak,” Stede sighs. “This really isn’t the impression I was hoping to make this early on.” 

Ed starts the car, leaning over once more to squeeze Stede’s knee. He lets it rest there, this time, turning the heat on in the car when he sees Stede shiver again. 

“Hey, it’s alright. Before this d’you know what I was doing?” Ed asks, deciding he can let himself be a little vulnerable for Stede, too. “Sitting at home, writing and rewriting that text to you, wondering if you’d changed your mind about me.” 

Stede whips his head to the side to look at him. “Edward, no,” he says quickly. “I’ve been asleep more than not these last few days, trying to sleep away this dreadful cold so I could see you again, properly.”

“I know that now,” Ed says. “All I mean is, you don’t have to worry about making an impression one way or another. You’ve already made one, mate.” 

Stede coughs a few times into his elbow, then lets his hand come to rest on top of Ed’s on his knee. “Well, that’s…” He trails off, smiling a little at Ed instead. 

Ed smiles back, can’t help himself, really. He never can, it seems, when it comes to Stede Bonnet. 

When they pull back into Stede’s driveway, Ed doesn’t think twice before getting out of the car and helping Stede up to the door. What he doesn’t expect is for Stede to look at him, almost bashful, and ask if he’d like to come in for a little while. 

“Company would be nice, if you don’t mind all the sneezing and sniffling, and… general air of illness around the place.” Stede is pink-cheeked again, though Ed thinks this particular flush is less to do with his fever and more to do with what he’s asking. 

Behind him, Bonny is prancing excitedly, clearly thrilled to see Ed again, and Ed reaches out to give her a pat on the head. “You remember me? That’s a good sign,” Ed smiles before turning back to Stede.

“‘Course I’ll stay, Stede,” Ed says. “No one should be this sick alone. D’you have medicine in there, or… I can go pick something up for you…?” He’s nervous himself, suddenly, going into Stede’s space, sitting on his couch, letting Stede fall asleep on his shoulder again the way he had in the freezing urgent care waiting room. 

“I’m very well stocked, I think, but thank you, Ed,” Stede tells him. 

His house is lovely inside, and already has that cozy, lived-in feeling that Stede himself seems to exude. There are books just about everywhere, on shelves and on the floor, and paintings and pictures on the walls, most of them of Stede’s two children and Bonny. He’s got more throw pillows and blankets than one person could ever realistically use, and it seems impossible, but Ed falls for the man even harder as he takes it all in. He pictures Stede here, curled up with a book and one of his many cups of tea, reading all day, and it doesn’t take much for him to imagine himself there just beside him. 

“Nice place you got here,” Ed says as Stede makes his way to the couch, dropping onto it with a stuffy, tired sigh. Bonny sits by his feet, then rests her head on his knee as if she knows just how bad he feels. Which, Ed knows from experience, is probably true. 

“Oh? You think so? I’ve tried to make it as homey as I can, given the limited time I’ve been here,” Stede says. He scrubs a hand over his face, blinking a few times. “I’d give you the tour, but as you said earlier, I felt a bit at risk of falling down if I didn’t sit down.”

“Tour can wait. Just point me to your medicine cabinet and I’ll be right back.” 

By the time Ed comes back, cold and flu medicine and bag of cough drops in hand, Stede has pulled one of the blankets down from the couch and over himself, his head resting back against the couch cushions. 

“Stede? Y’still with me?” Ed asks softly. When Stede’s eyes flutter open with a nod, he puts the supplies down on the coffee table and makes his way to the kitchen for some water. Tea could come later, when Stede’s feeling a bit more settled. 

Stede swallows down the medicine with a grimace, then seems to realize that Ed is still hovering by the coffee table. 

“Sit with me?” Stede asks, his voice tired and tentative, and yeah Ed would do just about anything for this man, and his sick day clothes, and his red nose, and the way he looks up at Ed as if he’s afraid he’ll vanish before his eyes. 

“Right, yeah, I can… I can do that. Fed the beast before I left so I’ve got nowhere to be,” Ed says. Stede’s couch is soft and perfect and probably ridiculously expensive, but Ed hardly has a chance to appreciate any of that before Stede shifts himself over so that they’re pressed in close together from shoulder to thigh. 

Beside him, Stede inhales sharply, and Ed’s already reaching for tissues as Stede snaps forward with another rough-sounding sneeze.

God, listen to me,” Stede says with a shake of his head.

He takes the tissues from Ed gratefully, snuffling into them for a minute before sighing. “I know we talked about this but, I really do appreciate you coming with me,” Stede tells him. “I’ve never… well, like I said, I didn’t know who else to call, but besides that I really wanted you to… I don’t know. Be here.” 

At this, Ed really and truly melts. Poor, sick Stede wanted Ed to be there with him. When was the last time someone had needed him, let alone wanted him? Ed truly can’t recall, and he’s suddenly terrified he’ll do something and fuck it all up, like cry right here on Stede’s couch. 

Instead, he leans over and presses another gentle kiss to Stede’s forehead, then to his cheek. 

“I want to be here, too," Ed confesses. 

Stede nods, snuggles himself closer to Ed and lifts the blanket so it’s covering Ed, too. “I know,” Stede murmurs. It’s the most sure of anything he’s sounded all day, and Ed’s relieved for it. He turns and meets Stede’s eye, smiling widely all over again. He wonders, briefly, if it should feel weird, being here with Stede, like this, so soon.

Feeling so much so soon. 

But ever since that day in the park, Ed's become more and more sure that their paths were meant, if not destined, to cross. And after so many years spent sure of the fact that he wanted to be — and was better off — on his own, well. Ed lets himself have this. Have Stede. 

“Y’ can sleep if you want. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Ed promises. 

Stede's already dozing, though, comfortable and warm with Ed beside him.

[silencejammer]

　　Accelerating Deployment: How the U.S. Army Leverages SOCOM’s Man-Portable Jamming Systems

　　Introduction

　　In an era where technological superiority often dictates the outcomes of military engagements, the U.S. Army has focused on rapidly equipping its forces with cutting-edge electronic warfare (EW) systems. signal jammerA prime example of this is the recent integration of man-portable jamming systems, specifically the Beast+ and Kraken, into the Army's arsenal. These systems, initially developed and fielded by U.S. Special Operations Command (SOCOM), have become a crucial part of the Army’s strategy to enhance its electronic warfare capabilities. cell phone jammerBy leveraging existing SOCOM programs, the Army has significantly shortened the timeline for deploying these sophisticated systems to regular soldiers.GPS jammer

　　The Significance of Man-Portable Jammers

　　Electronic warfare has always been a critical component of modern military operations. Wifi jammerThe ability to disrupt enemy communications, detect and locate signals, and conduct electronic attacks can provide a decisive advantage on the battlefield. However, traditional electronic warfare systems have often been large, vehicle-mounted, and challenging to deploy in diverse terrains, particularly in regions like the Pacific, where dense vegetation and numerous islands pose logistical challenges.

　　Recognizing these limitations, the U.S. Army sought to develop smaller, more portable electronic warfare systems that could be easily carried by soldiers. This led to the creation of the Tactical Layered System-Brigade Combat Team (TLS-BCT), the Army's first brigade-level integrated network, signals intelligence, and electronic warfare system. The TLS-BCT is designed to be adaptable, capable of both vehicle-mounted and man-portable configurations, ensuring that soldiers can carry out electronic warfare operations even in the most challenging environments.

　　Beast+ and Kraken: The Backbone of TLS-BCT

　　At the heart of the TLS-BCT program are the Beast+ and Kraken systems. These systems are not entirely new; they have been part of SOCOM's arsenal for some time and have been tested and proven in various operational settings. The Beast+ system, a compact backpack-mounted unit weighing approximately 20 pounds, is highly versatile. It can be further broken down into handheld devices for signal direction finding or augmented with electronic attack capabilities. On the other hand, the Kraken system is a more robust variant that can be mounted on vehicles but is also portable enough to be carried in a backpack when necessary. Kraken offers enhanced analytical capabilities, covering a broader range of frequencies and handling four times the number of signals as Beast+.

　　Leveraging SOCOM’s Recorded Programs

　　One of the most significant advantages of adopting Beast+ and Kraken is that these systems are already part of SOCOM's recorded programs. This means they have undergone rigorous testing, have established production lines, and are supported by a network of logistical and training resources. For the Army, this translates to a much faster deployment timeline.

　　Todd Probert, President of CACI National Security and Innovative Solutions, highlighted the importance of this approach. According to Probert, the most challenging aspect of deploying new technology is certifying the hardware. This involves not only ensuring that the technology functions as intended but also that it can be effectively used by soldiers in real-world conditions. This includes considerations such as how the equipment functions when handled by gloved hands, its weight, how it integrates with other systems, and battery management.

　　By adopting systems that SOCOM had already validated in the field, the Army bypassed many of these hurdles. The systems had already proven their effectiveness in operational environments, and SOCOM’s documentation provided a clear roadmap for their deployment. This allowed the Army to focus on software upgrades and minor modifications to tailor the systems to its specific needs.

　　The Path to Full Deployment

　　To this end, the Army plans to conduct an operational demonstration of the TLS-BCT system in November, which will serve as the final validation before full-scale production begins. This demonstration will test the system's capabilities in a range of scenarios, ensuring that it can meet the demands of modern warfare.

　　

[hotcoincryptotrading]

A Step-by-Step Guide to Buying Cryptocurrency for Beginners

Cryptocurrency has become a popular investment choice for many, offering opportunities for financial growth and innovation in digital transactions. If you're new to the world of cryptocurrencies and wondering how to get started, this step-by-step guide will walk you through the process of buying your first digital assets.

Understanding Cryptocurrency

The cryptocurrency is a kind of virtual or digital currency that utilizes cryptography for security. Unlike traditional currencies, cryptocurrencies operate independently of central banks and governments. Bitcoin, Ethereum, and Litecoin are among the most well-known cryptocurrencies, each offering unique features and use cases.

Step 1: Choose a Cryptocurrency Exchange

The first step in buying cryptocurrency is to choose a reputable cryptocurrency exchange platform. Popular exchanges include Coinbase, Binance, and Kraken, each offering a user-friendly interface and a variety of cryptocurrencies to trade.

Step 2: Create an Account

Once you've selected an exchange, you'll need to create an account. Provide the required information, including your email address, phone number, and proof of identification in some cases. Security measures like two-factor authentication (2FA) are often available to enhance your account's security.

Step 3: Verify Your Identity

Some exchanges require users to verify their identity to comply with regulatory requirements. This process may involve uploading a copy of your ID and proof of address. Verification typically takes a few minutes to a few days, depending on the exchange's policies.

Step 4: Deposit Funds

Before you can buy cryptocurrency, you'll need to deposit funds into your exchange account. Exchanges accept different payment methods, including credit/debit cards, bank transfers, and at times even PayPal. Choose the method that suits your preferences and follow the instructions to deposit funds into your account.

Step 5: Choose Your Cryptocurrency

Once your account is funded, it's time to choose the cryptocurrency you want to buy. Have a research of the different cryptocurrencies and their use cases to make an informed decision. Bitcoin is often a popular choice for beginners, but you can explore other options based on your investment goals and risk tolerance.

Step 6: Place Your Order

After selecting your cryptocurrency, navigate to the trading section of the exchange platform. Enter the amount of cryptocurrency you wish to purchase and review the transaction details, including the current price and any applicable fees. Once you're satisfied, place your buy order.

Step 7: Store Your Cryptocurrency Securely

After purchasing cryptocurrency, it's essential to store it securely. Exchanges offer built-in wallets for convenience, but for added security, consider transferring your digital assets to a hardware wallet or a software wallet with strong encryption features.

Step 8: Stay Informed and Secure

Cryptocurrency markets can be volatile, so it's crucial to stay informed about market trends and security best practices. Keep your exchange account secure with strong passwords and 2FA. Additionally, stay updated on regulatory developments and tax implications related to cryptocurrency investments in your country.

Conclusion

Buying cryptocurrency can be an exciting venture into the world of digital finance. By following this step-by-step guide, beginners can navigate the process confidently and start building their cryptocurrency portfolio. Remember to research thoroughly, choose a reputable exchange, and prioritize security to make the most of your investment in cryptocurrencies.

Whether you're interested in Bitcoin, Ethereum, or other altcoins, the process of buying cryptocurrency remains similar across different platforms. 

[the-firebird69]

ETERNALS CLIP COMPILATION (2021) Sci-Fi

It looks like an odd creature on the cover it's really a dragon and hours of a little bit more Kraken in them, normally they are white here is kind of black and it's because of what's there in the ocean and it's kind of a weird week food for him and it's smog and he appears as a man to that woman and it's Angelina Jolie now The other woman. And they're thinking of letting smog out no they're trying to fight over them over him and it's quite a fight it's at Disney world it's very quiet a lot of it is down below and the armies are clashing all the time and they will be out pretty soon though they're going to head north and huge numbers then they will try for pseudo empire bunkers in the deserts and it will toast tons of them here you see my character Ashirem and I am telling them you're trying to destroy one and it said you would sacrifice one it sounds pretty bad and it sounded like they did but they didn't successfully and he comes out after and he has seen in the fantastic four movie destroying a death star himself a really big one it's better than him he's pretty big and yeah he is probably his head is about 60 miles across so yeah like 6,000 miles or they're saying 2,000 miles it's probably more likely. These are the two out in there the deserts in California the Mojave and burning Man. And they weren't there quite often and it's always some kind of whirlwind and there trying to take it over they're trying to threaten the other one to control mine and that's what these folks are doing and it hasn't happened yet and it doesn't mean that they're first it means that they I'll probably second and they go nuts cuz they find out that they're bigger and those giants get away and they're only about someone said 10 miles someone said 5 MI but if you look at them people think 2 miles each but that might be their head with my husband says about 10 miles and that's what Thor and Freya said that's true they're pretty big and they have power they have to go down and they start trying to reinstall sorts of giants everywhere no they're trying to take him over that's what happens we think it's first

Hera

Zues

It is first and Salazar and got his wife and Hera's side demanded. And we will follow that and do it that way yes. And he's going to help with his cars he wonders if he wants to do the coyote he says why and it's similar to his and it is so he's going to try and pick that up and maybe do it in Mexico and that would explain the show with his son's body out there this is going to try and do it with him but really his son's body is already out so we get that John Riva Lord thinks that he is out there and the phone is put in an act but really it's going to be great just so perfect car cuz their cars are like Asian cars. And vital and got his wife are going to help and it's his father and they're on it and it's going to be great and they just won't leave the names alone they're horrible this is going to start and it will start in Monaco she's going to look for an event

Thor Freya

Olympus

What the hell's going on these are giants but they're not regular Giants

BG we have information that says there the clans and just wondering where we got it it's from this guy John remillard and they've been reviving them he says and all this stuff I did not see it in writing okay so it's probably b*******