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joannaliceevans-fanficblog · 5 months ago

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This will be forever in my heart!

#jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman stop being too damn cute!#linus ullmark #linus ullmark is dork #swaymark doofuses

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joannaliceevans-fanficblog · 3 months ago

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Ully!

#linus ullmark #i miss him #linus ullmark is dork

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drabblemesilly · 10 months ago

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Alex Lyon #1

Requested by Anon: Can you please please write a short one about Alex Lyon of the Red Wings?

*I got you anon! Who's just as happy that he's been getting to see so much action lately? Def one of the most beautiful men in hockey! Enjoy! :)*

Word count: 1,006

Oh, he’s in a mood. You can hear Fireflies by Owl City playing on loud even before you opened the front door to Alex Lyon’s house. Good or bad, not sure yet but there’s a reason you only hear that song after a hard loss or a phenomenal win. Seeing that their last game was two nights ago and the next one is tomorrow, you’re in unknown territory here.

The strong smell of garlic enveloped you as you enter the house.

“In here,” you heard him shout above the music – which was restarting. Oh, so Fireflies is on loop. Interesting.

On one of your very first dates, Alex mentioned that Fireflies helped him calm down, “it helps me get grounded every time I get overwhelmed,” he said. Something about the instruments or lyrics, you really didn’t pay attention to him much then. His eyes were distracting and his pretty, pretty face was overwhelming. Ha!

You found him in the kitchen, wielding a knife, flour streaks all over his face and neck. Oh gosh, is that a piece of onion stuck in his hair?

“What is this?” you laughed, putting your purse on the counter and peering, “salmon vs Alex Lyon?” you gave him a quick peck on the cheek, “honey, I think you’re gonna lose,” your nose crinkled, “you already smell like fish!”

He giggled, the kind of giggle that only he can do, music to your ears, honestly, “make yourself useful and peel some potatoes, pretty girl!”

“Pretty girl? Oh buttering me up too,” you smiled, getting some potatoes from the sink, “you seem cheerful today. Should I run for the hills?”

His grin even got wider, “I’m starting in the next five games, I got the call this morning.”

Dropping the potatoes, you gasped, “Alex, what did you do?”

He looked up, eyes wide and wild, “what? What?”

“What did you do, Alex?” you feigned seriousness.

“What?” he asked again, all serious and panicky now, “what did I do?”

You grinned, eyes sparkling, “to James Reimer.”

Alex visibly relaxed, finally catching the joke, “you’re mean,” he pouted, “no salmon for you.”

Shrugging, you jumbled over to him and nearly tackled your smelly boyfriend, “I’m kidding, you dork,” jumping up to kiss his flour-covered neck, “wow, Alex, wow. That’s good, right? We’re happy, right?”

He nodded, squeezing lemon into the salmon marinade, “we’re very happy,” he pointed to the fish, “we’re having salmon!”

He stopped chopping or whatever he was doing to the fish for a second and looked at you, “so when are you finally gonna have me teach you to skate?”

Reaching out to bump him a little, you smiled, “now that,” you smirked, washing your hands and pouring some red wine in a discarded glass, “is something for later,” drinking a little wine, you peered over his shoulder at whatever he’s concocting, “there’s a reason you’re a goalie buddy,” you joked.

“I hope you choke,” he laughed, taking your glass and sipping from it, “I’m joking,” he said in the next breath. Alex never figured out how to read your reactions to his jokes so he always felt the need to clarify.

“I know,” you assured him, “I’m still not trusting you to teach me to skate.”

He stomped a foot, “but I’m a professional hockey player. I’m on skates the same amount of time I’m in shoes.”

The foot stomping caused a belligerent curl fall on his forehead, you snickered at that. Sometime he just looks like a lost little puppy. Or a kitten. If he has his way, he’d be a lost secy kitten.

You reached to tug on the curl, “honey, you’re not Sidney Crosby.”

“I have his butt, though,” he offered.

“Still a no,” you laughed, “don’t worry, cutie, you’re more good-looking. And you’re a better goalie.” You gulped, “I think,” you said, “I hope,” you scoffed, “you never know with Sidney Crosby, he’s probably better at it than Linus Ullmark.”

Alex Lyon is one of the best goalies in the NHL and you will die on that hill. Did people think he was overrated when he skipped his last year in the NCCA to turn pro? Yes. Did he get shuffled around from Philly to North Carolina to Florida and now to Detroit? Yes. Did he once question how good he was at hockey because he couldn’t seem to get his footing in the NHL? Yes.

Did those ever diminish the fact that you believe him to be one of the best goalies in the NHL right now? No. You will die on that hill.

“If Sidney Crosby is a better goalie than me, I wouldn’t even be surprised. Linus Ullmark is definitely better than me.”

Your nose automatically scrunched, “what are you talking about?” popping a slice of cheese, you bent over the counter and winked, “I think you’re the best goalie in the NHL right now.”

He snorted, “let’s not go that far,” shifting so he can give you a loose hug.

“Not the best cook,” you pointed at the discarded fish, “but definitely the best goalie. At least for me,” you smiled, hand snaking around his back.

Resting your chin on his chest, you took a little sniff, “yup, still smelling like fish.”

He looked down and placed a small kiss on the top of your head, “I think I’ll be fine. I like it here.”

You’ve never seen Alex get more excited than when he signed with the Red Wings. That meant you were moving to Michigan and leave so many of your new-found friends in Florida but you’ll probably follow him to the ends of the world if he asked. At this point, you won’t be surprised if the sun actually shone out of his ass.

“You will be fine, Ally,” you whispered, rubbing his back, “one step at a time.”

He sighed, another round of Fireflies starting over, the fourth time since you got here, “it takes a little time but yes,” he agreed, “one step.”

“So,” you clapped, “about that…” you gestured to the fish.

He snickered, “pizza?”

“Pizza it is."

#hockey imagines #nhl imgaines #drabbles #drabble #my writing #fanfic #imagines #detroit red wings #Alex Lyon

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fvcking-damage · 3 years ago

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