#montreal impact

[montrealmagique]

[nervouswreck-96]

MLS teams used to have creative names like “Dallas Burn”, “Tampa Bay Mutiny”, and “Miami Fusion”.

Now all the new teams are just “FC” or “United” (or in the case of Atlanta and Minnesota, both!) because MLS is trying so desperately to pretend they’re a big European league when they clearly aren’t.

Even established teams like Montreal and (almost) Columbus changed their names to look more “European” and it sucks.

[historyforfuture]

[we-weavile]

HELLO I WOULD LIKE TO TELL YOU THAT I MET KEITH SILVERSTEIN, ZHONGLI'S VOICE ACTOR!!!

He is so nice, his voice deep. I think i never spoke in english so well in the my entire life despite telling him my english was rusty.

Im still shaking guys *screams*

I can die in peace bye

[the-physicality]

.

[subsidystadium]

The Philadelphia Phillies and Tampa Bay Rays are fighting each other for tourist dollars

For years, the Tampa Bay Rays have been trying to get taxpayers to build them a new ballpark. It doesn’t matter where the ballpark is located. They will go to Tampa, outside Tampa and even to Montreal for half the year. Wherever they go, you can be sure that they will do everything in their power to keep all negotiations closed off from the public until the very last second. When the Rays do…

[pnwnativeplants]

https://www.xerces.org/blog/want-to-save-bees-focus-on-habitat-not-honey-bees

Five reasons why honey bees can be a problem

Native plants need native bees. Native bees coevolved with our native plants and often have behavioral adaptations that make them better pollinators than honey bees. For example, buzz-pollination, in which a bee grasps a flower and shakes the pollen loose, is a behavior at which bumble bees and other large-bodied native bees excel, and one that honey bees lack.

Honey bees are sub-par pollinators. The way that honey bees interact with flowers means that they sometimes contribute little or nothing to pollination. Honey bees groom their pollen and carry it in neat pollen cakes, where it’s less likely to contact the stigma of another flower and pollinate it. They are also known “nectar robbers” of many plants, accessing their nectar in a way that means they don’t touch the pollen, often by biting a hole in the base of the flower. By contrast, many of our native bees tend to be messier, carrying pollen as dry grains, often all over their bodies where it’s more likely to pollinate the plant.

Hungry hives crowd out native pollinators. Introducing a single honey bee hive means 15,000 to 50,000 additional mouths to feed in an area that may already lack sufficient flowering resources. This increases competition with our native bees and raises the energy costs of foraging, which can be significant. One study calculated that over a period of three months, a single hive collects as much pollen as could support the development of 100,000 native solitary bees!

Honey bees can spread disease. Unfortunately, honey bees can spread diseases to our native bees—deformed wing virus, for example, can be passed from honey bees to bumble bees—and can also amplify and distribute diseases within a bee community. 

Urban honey bee hive densities are often too high. There is growing evidence of negative impacts in towns and cities from the presence of honey bees. A recent study from Montreal showed that the number of species of native bees found in an area decreased when the number of honey bees went up. In Britain, the London Beekeepers Association found that some parts of that city had four times as many hives as the city’s gardens and parks could support. The conservation organization Buglife recommends creating two hectares (five acres) of habitat for each hive, several times the size of an average residential lot in the United States.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

The housing crisis is having a severe impact on tenants' mental health, say organizations calling on Premier François Legault to take action. It has become the leading cause of stress for psychiatric patients in Quebec, according to the Regroupement des ressources alternatives en santé mentale au Québec (RRASMQ), which held a news conference in Montreal on Sunday along with the Regroupement des comités logement et associations de locataires du Québec (RCLALQ). The two groups presented an open letter addressed directly to Legault, which will be published in the media on Tuesday. More than 300 organizations specializing in housing and mental health are imploring Legault to take concrete action to resolve the housing crisis, which is causing so much distress.

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[todays-problematic-ship]

Hey there’s a boat stuck near Montreal in a shipping channel and it has stopped St Lawrence Seaway shipping!!!

Today's Problematic Ship is the Heemskerkgracht

A cargo ship has run aground near Kahnawà:ke on Montreal's South Shore after it experienced a mechanical failure, according to the St. Lawrence Seaway Management Corporation. 

A spokesperson for the corporation, Jean Aubry-Morin, said workers are aiming to have the vessel moving again by noon tomorrow. So far, six other ships are impacted by the blockage on the South Shore canal. The ships are headed to be anchored on Lake Saint-Louis or in the St. Lawrence River close to the port of Montreal. 

The Dutch vessel, Heemskerkgracht, headed for Spain, was turning on its axis on the canal along Lake Saint-Louis to go back up to Montreal when the boat's engine stopped working. The nose of the vessel then crept up the riverbank where the ship ended up getting stuck at a 45-degree angle.

Heemskerkgracht is a 138-metre cargo ship carrying scrap metal. 

[malk1ns]

december 14 2024 @ senators, 3-2 OT loss

creature feature time. yes i've already written incubus sidney crosby once and i likely will again; what can i say, it compels me.

credit for this prompt goes to @beggingwolf who ended it with 'and uh something something they sleep together'. can do!

Zhenya can tell when Sid hasn’t fed in a while.

The team keeps a close eye on his intake, of course. He gets his blood tested weekly, and there’s a whole sub-department of the medical team dedicated to his care and keeping.

League requirements for something like Sid are much more lax than they are for other creatures; wolves take suppressants and wear thin gloves made of cut-resistant fabric under their normal hockey gloves, vampires wear specially-molded mouthguards that have to be cracked off by the dentists and get shots that dull their sense of smell on game days. Some creatures aren’t allowed in the NHL at all—the fae and telekinetics are stuck in the lower levels because magical dampeners aren’t effective enough.

Incubi, though? Unless they’re underfed, they’re in complete control of their abilities, and it’s so obvious when a sex demon is putting someone under thrall that they’d be tossed immediately, before any impact to the game could occur. 

So Sid is subjected to regular testing, and he has a group of people more involved in his sex life than he’d probably prefer, but it’s a small price to pay relative to others, and Zhenya’s never heard him complain.

Sometimes, though, he lies.

Sid’s stubborn, always has been. There are certain cities he doesn’t like picking up in even if he’s scheduled to feed, and he’s slippery, good at avoiding questions without the medical staff picking up on it until it’s too late.

Normally, it doesn’t matter. A day or two here and there doesn’t really impact anything, and Sid knows his body—he’d never delay to the point where it would impact his performance, or the team.

And if it does get close to a critical point, well, that’s where Zhenya steps in. It’s why he’s gotten so good at picking up on the early signs.

One of the places Sid never feeds is Montreal. He’s far too visible there, too well-known; they can barely duck in for a sandwich without him getting mobbed. They have to stick to the VIP if they go out, and even then he spends time brushing off hopeful fans looking to get up close and personal. All it would take is one person running to one of the innumerable hockey reporters that are constantly buzzing around the Penguins when they’re here, and it’s a league-wide story for months, if not the whole rest of the season.

Zhenya’s half-wondering if Sid will call him to his hotel room after the game. They’re not leaving until tomorrow after practice, and a bunch of the guys are chattering about going out as they all get changed.

Sid doesn’t say anything, though, and despite the blowout win his face is drawn. He lurks in the shadows at the bar they decide on and slips out early.

Zhenya shrugs it off and distracts himself with a couple of giggly French-Canadian girls with accents so thick he can barely understand them. He won’t go home with either of them, of course, but it’s fun to make friends.

—

Sid puts on a good face at practice the next day, but he’s quiet and crabby on the train, sitting across the aisle from Zhenya’s card game but refusing to be dealt in even when Karl tries to cajole him into playing. He chats for a while with Neets, but spends most of the ride staring out the window with his brow furrowed and one hand clenching and unclenching in his lap.

Zhenya sits next to him at dinner, but Sid doesn’t say a word, not even when Zhenya asks leading questions to try and get around to the topic.

Sid doesn’t text that night either, not that Zhenya was expecting it the night before a game.

The Senators game is fine. They manage a point, which is better than they usually do against this team, and they have two days before they play again. The team normally wouldn’t go out two nights so close together, but Karl’s chattering excitedly about a bar he used to go to all the time when he was playing here, and when Sid unexpectedly pipes up to say he’s in, the rest of the team follows suit.

Zhenya grabs Sid on the way out. “You sure?” he says quietly, leaning down so Sid can hear him. “You’re tired, I think, need to feed. We can go to hotel if you want.” Ottawa is another city Sid won’t pick up in, a relatively recent development that Zhenya hasn’t bothered getting to the bottom of outside of how it impacts Sid’s routines.

Sid stares up at him. His eyes are huge and black in his pale face, and his skin is drawn tight over his cheekbones. For a second Zhenya can feel thrall creeping up, and he sways forward, but then Sid shakes his head and wrenches his arm free. “I’m fine,” he says shortly.

Zhenya stares after him, baffled. Even when Sid had his eye on some other target, he’s never brushed Zhenya off so rudely before.

Sid’s demon likes Zhenya, is the thing. Zhenya’s heard it from its own mouth, lying prone on a mattress in some hotel and listening to the incubus inside Sid’s body murmur about how good he is, the best, as it works Zhenya over into orgasm after orgasm. And yeah, part of that is flattery designed to keep its food source compliant, but Sid had confirmed it too, when Zhenya screwed up enough courage to ask.

"Yeah,” Sid had said, flushing pink. “I mean…it’s not picky, you know, but there are…favorites, I guess. You’re one of them. You taste—” and then Sid had cut himself off.

Sometimes, Zhenya wonders how much of their encounters are Sid and not his incubus side. He likes to pretend that it’s strictly transactional, a series of mindblowing orgasms in exchange for keeping his demon fed, but Zhenya knows what Sid looks like when it’s just him in there. The lines have felt blurred for a while now, and Zhenya isn’t sure how much more clear he can make it that if Sid wanted it, Zhenya would wife him up so fast.

Husband him up. Whatever.

Maybe Sid figured that out and he’s trying to give Zhenya a hint. That would be just like Sid, to get himself all worked up over something and decide he has to shut it down before even giving it a chance.

Well, Sid isn’t the only stubborn asshole on this team. Zhenya’s prepared to wait him out. And since Sid’s incubus likes him so much, he’s got the edge over whatever objections Sid might try to trot out. He just needs to force the conversation and let their natural chemistry take it from there.

All Zhenya’s confidence evaporates, though, when he loses track of Sid for a solid hour at the bar Karl directed them to, only to spot him leaning up against a hightop making eyes at someone else.

To Zhenya’s surprise, his eyes sting like they’re about to fill with tears, and he has to swallow hard around the sudden lump in his throat. It feels like he’s gotten the wind knocked out of him.

Sid’s making himself perfectly clear. Whatever he and Zhenya used to do, he doesn’t want it, and by hitting on some guy in the middle of a bar like this, he couldn’t be sending out a stronger signal—we’re done.

Just as Zhenya’s about to turn away, make his way back to their table to grab his jacket and get back to the hotel to lick his wounds in private, Sid’s head suddenly turns, and they make eye contact across the bar.

Zhenya tucks tail and flees. He doesn’t need Sid’s pity right now.

He’s barely gotten changed from his going-out clothes into his pajamas, though, when someone pounds on his hotel room door. There’s really only one person it could be, and Zhenya seriously considers ignoring it and pretending he’s already asleep, but then Sid knocks again, harder this time, and Zhenya sighs, heading to the door to let him in.

“You left,” Sid says as he pushes past Zhenya into the room, except it’s not just Sid, there’s a crooning undertone to his voice that Zhenya knows mean the incubus is here too. “Why did you sneak out? You—” and Sid sniffs the air, sometimes this demon shit is beyond weird even after all these years, “you’re upset about something.” He steps closer to Zhenya, widening his eyes. The irises are pitch-black, not a hint of Sid’s normal hazel, and Zhenya closes his eyes against the gentle thrum of thrall brushing over his skin. “What happened?”

“Sid,” Zhenya sighs, taking a step back to try and keep his head clear. “You’re say you not want with me, you’re with some guy tonight. I’m a little upset, okay, maybe I’m jealous, because I think…” He shrugs. “It’s stupid, maybe, but I’m not want to see you do with someone else, so I come back to be alone, give you space.”

“Baby,” Sid murmurs, closing the distance again and curling a hand around the back of Zhenya’s neck. “I never want space from you. You know you’re my favorite.”

Zhenya doesn’t need thrall to give in, not when Sid’s standing so close and looking at him that way. He’s a weak man, and impulsive, and so he’s already moving for the bed before Sid has to push any harder.

Sid undresses them both slowly, letting his fingers reverently linger over Zhenya’s skin, the way a man besotted with his lover might. Zhenya closes his eyes and lets him, drifting on the drugging feel of thrall.

Sid lays him out on the mattress and stretches out next to him before leaning down, kissing him deep and lush, like the kiss is the goal and there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing. His hands over Zhenya’s body are rhythmic and intoxicating, and they feel good, but he keeps intentionally avoiding Zhenya’s dick, which is getting hard painfully fast.

“Please,” Zhenya finally groans when he manages to break away from Sid’s mouth for a minute and gasp to catch his breath. “Sid, need it.”

“I need you,” Sid—the incubus—Zhenya can’t tell at this point, purrs at him, but instead of teasing further he slides down Zhenya’s body and takes Zhenya into his mouth.

Sid gets a lot of shit on the ice for what his mouth looks like, and Zhenya can attest that he deserves every last word of it. He’s preternaturally skilled with his tongue and doesn’t seem to have a gag reflex at all, and when Zhenya looks down at Sid’s head bobbing in his lap it takes all his effort to keep from coming right there.

He wants this to last.

Sid hums around him, taking him deeper and reaching down to press at Zhenya’s hole, just lightly, rubbing circles over it with a finger that’s somehow slick with lube even though there’s no way he had time to get Zhenya’s bottle off the nightstand. Zhenya tries to buck back and force Sid’s finger in, but Sid’s other arm is a steel bar over his hip bones, pressing him into the mattress. All Zhenya can do is lie there and take what Sid decides to give him.

Sid’s said before that when he’s with someone like this, he can kind of feel what they’re feeling. Nothing major, but enough to tell him what’s working and what isn’t—the better an orgasm is, the better he feeds. Zhenya wonders what Sid’s getting off of him now, the deep swell of arousal and love and longing that’s making his chest tight.

It means that Sid knows the exact right moment to slide his finger in and press mercilessly at Zhenya’s prostate, rubbing and rubbing as he sucks hard until Zhenya’s coming down his throat with a shout.

Sid nurses at Zhenya’s cock for a while until the shocky oversensitivity turns painful, then pulls back, licking his lips. His eyes are half-slits, and he looks contented, satisfied, like a well-fed cat.

Now that the high of orgasm is fading, though, Zhenya feels empty.

“Hey—” Sid says, and that’s Sid, just him, no trace of the demon. He props himself up on his elbow and looks down at Zhenya, eyes big and worried and wholly his again. “What’s wrong? I can still…I mean, not much, but I can still feel you a little.”

Zhenya flinches. “Sorry,” he mutters, wishing they weren’t lying on top of the covers so he could pull a blanket over himself. He feels exposed. “It’s not—I feel dumb, like, it’s big overreact for nothing. I know it’s…what’s word, like, a deal for you, it’s not serious. I let myself think something more, maybe. It’s okay, though, I get over. We don’t need to stop when you’re hungry.”

“G,” Sid says, voice small, “it is something more. I wasn’t…” He sighs, scrubbing his free hand over his face. “It’s true, that you’re its favorite. My favorite. It’s not just a deal to me, and you’re not overreacting. I noticed it a few weeks ago, the last time I fed from you, but I thought it was bleed—that can happen sometimes, the link starts to let stuff through the other way. I thought you were getting how I felt, and I felt terrible influencing you like that. So I pulled back.”

“Sid,” Zhenya says chidingly, but he has to blink away the dizzying wash of hope. “You’re not say anything? Have to talk, like, can’t just make decisions without say to me.”

“I know,” Sid mutters, flopping down onto his stomach and hiding his face in a pillow. “I felt so stupid, though. I mean, you’re doing me this huge favor and here I am making you feel stuff…it’s more than stupid, it’s unfair, it’s…” He trails off, but Zhenya can plug in a number of words into the silence that he thinks Sid probably would use if they weren’t so unpleasant to say aloud. “I wanted to give you a break to get your head back.”

Zhenya manfully refrains from making a dirty joke. “It’s both of us, I think,” he says instead, rolling onto his side so he can skate his palm over Sid’s back. “You and me, we’re both feel, that’s equal, yes? It’s good.”

“Yeah,” Sid’s muffled, but Zhenya can hear hope rising in his voice too.

[sitp-recs]

ok so I wasn’t gonna do this bc I didn’t have the spoons to plan in advance, but it was breaking my heart not to join the HP Rec Fest after seeing so many amazing rec posts. I also wanted to honour Scarlet | @givereadersahug’s memory, and thanks to @tackytigerfic’s new fic (!!!) I was hit by sudden inspo last night so I’ve decided to quietly join and pretend that was the plan all along 🥲 I’ll combine the first 5 prompts in one post to make it easier. go check @hprecfest so you can feast on those brilliant multishipper recs!

day 1: first fic I remember reading

oh it was definitely something in Portuguese, but I’ll go with Rhysenn’s Irresistible Poison. I’ve read it so many times that some scenes are still vivid and clear in my mind 20 years later. the tension, the yearning, the heat! funny to realize I was so into love potion, sex pollen and other dub-con tropes back in the day, and now I’m just… not :)))

day 2: a fic rated G

I’ve picked orphaned Home County because that fic is criminally underrated and I suspect it has something to do with the G rating, which is such a shame. this fic is a delightful, effortlessly funny slice-of-life with architect Harry being charmed by ministry worker Draco. a fresh premise perfectly executed, overall just a feel-good story that makes you sad for leaving that universe when it’s over.

day 3: a fic not on AO3

most of my old reads were either deleted for good or incorporated into ao3 so it was hard to find a good fit, as I did not want to repeat my recs from last year. I decided to go with furiosity, who wrote many Drarry classics that can be found scattered outside of ao3. I remember really enjoying Beyond Wild Moon and Fer, a 6th year Harry POV that follows his Hogwarts routine and sexuality crisis. I haven’t checked it in ages but this is the perfect excuse for a reread 😌

day 4: a comfort fic

every once in a while I think of Nothing Left to Burn by @skeptiquewrites, it had such a lasting impact on me. Tee writes my favorite h/c flavour, raw yet soft, melancholy but also tender, a mix of bittersweet and hopeful that makes my heart ache. it’s so damn relatable and lovely. I adore a good second chances trope, it fits Drarry like a glove and the gorgeous Montreal aesthetics make this love story even more special and unique.

day 5: a romantic fic

how to pick just one?? this felt like an impossible task, but then Two Zinnias by @the-starryknight took my mind with such visceral force I started asking myself “could anything be more romantic than ex-enemies turned allies turned boyfriends going rogue and fighting a corrupted ministry while using Victorian flower codes on the run??” the answer is no - this fic is a thrill, an emotional rollercoaster from start to end and I remember how completely bewildered and in love I felt after reading it, utterly obsessed with this world and characters. so much story and heart under 17k, many memorable scenes and banger lines, the political tension, suspense and epic duelling never overshadowing the intensity and truth of what they felt for each other. peak romance!!!

[montrealmagique]

Stade Olympique de Montréal

Victoire de l’Impact contre DC United

[babydollmarauders]

CHRISTMAS MIRACLE — COLE CAUFIELD

cole caufield x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which y/n gets stuck with her enemy, Cole, and finds out hate can lead to some miracle discoveries

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, long intro, handjob, p in v (protected), sub!cole (ish?). (4.7k words)

notes: welcome to day 10 of my 12 days of kinkmas! we’re in the final stretch of kinkmas and i hope you guys are enjoying it!

this isn’t how i want to be spending the first day of my break.

well, i guess the first hour of my break.

i was just getting ready to head home, dreading driving in the blizzard of a snow storm and taking my time to psych myself up, when an equipment manager called me over. he told me a player forgot his ipad and is asking if anyone would be willing to drop it off on their way home because he’d like to go over plays during the break.

hesitantly, i said sure, i’d bring it to them; but what i wasn’t aware of, and what i’m sure my coworker conveniently forgot to mention, is that the player in question is Cole fucking Caufield.

it’s not necessarily that i hate Cole; on the contrary, i had always thought he was extremely kind and talented.

in fact, when i had originally interned with the Laval Rocket, he was always incredibly nice to me. and in turn, i fell for him a little each day.

but then, he was called up to Montreal, and the following season, i was offered the position of media manager for the Canadiens.

i was excited, i spent the week leading up to my first day thinking about how wonderful it would be to be able to joke around with Cole again. i thought of sketch tiktoks for the team to do, most with Cole as the leading man because i knew he was a fan favorite, and questions to ask as they took the ice for practice.

and it was great at first. Cole was sweet and he was always willing to take part in team tiktoks, always greeting me with a smile. but around a month later, something changed.

no longer was he the kindhearted individual i was familiar with, instead he was cold shouldered and rude; snarky and arrogant. and that’s the way it’s stayed. for the past few years it’s felt like pulling teeth to try and communicate with him, and even worse to convince him to be in team tiktoks.

which brings me to now, standing at the front door of his house, an ipad tucked under my arm as i stand in the blistering cold. snow sticks on my lashes, flurries in my hair, but my toque does nothing to shield me from the cold Montréal air.

if i drove here on the icy roads, my windshield wipers at full speed, just for him to not even answer the fucking door, i’m gonna lose it.

i bang my fist upon the door again, body shivering from the cold, and it takes merely a moment for him to finally open the door.

he greets me with a wide smile, but when he sees that it’s me who stands before him, that cheery facade drops, a cold, blank expression taking its place.

i can hear the news blasting from his living room as the heated air wafts out of the home, blasting my face and making my nose go numb from the sudden cold to warm.

“what?” he asks, voice monotone.

“here,” i shove the ipad into his chest harshly, making him cough from the sudden impact, “next time, don’t leave your fucking ipad at the rink.”

he glares back, taking the ipad into his hands and parting his lips to argue.

“it was an accident,” he sneers, “trust me, if i knew you would bring it to me, i definitely would’ve double checked i had it.”

you.

my body fills with anger, insulted yet hurt by the way he says it. as though he’s repulsed by me.

“ya know what, asshole?” i don’t even get to finish my quip before i’m cut off a loud alarm coming from the tv.

it gathers both he and i’s attention, his head snapping back to look at the screen, while i peer around him to see it.

“with the blizzard picking up and roads becoming icier, officials have reported that all roads will now be closed for the night. stay inside and stay warm. we’ll get back to you when the storm passes.”

the news reporters words echo through my head, forcing me to end my comeback and just turn around.

i take a step towards the stairs that lead up to his door, but i’m stopped almost immediately.

“hey, where are you going?” Cole calls out from behind me.

“home!”

“they just said the roads are closed.”

“exactly,” i huff, “which means i need to get going quick so that if i get pulled over, i can say i was already driving.”

i’m about to take a step down the stairs when a hand wraps around my forearm, pulling me back.

“don’t be stupid, y/n,” he says, “you’re gonna crash, and i’m not living with your death on my fucking conscience.”

i turn to look at him, a heated glare in my eyes, “i’m not staying with you.”

a mischievous smirk spreads across his lips as he pushes me toward his open door, “yeah, you are.”

i stumble into the warm house, a stark contrast to the weather outside, and i just get my bearing when i hear the door shut, Cole flipping the lock and walking idly past me towards the living room.

“what the fuck is your problem?” i huff, shaking my head as i succumb to my fate, removing my coat and hanging it on a coat hook next to his door.

“my problem?” he looks over at me astonished, “i’m trying not to let you die.”

i roll my eyes, my arms crossing over my chest.

“i would not have died.” but he’s not paying any attention to my words, his eyes locked on something else entirely.

i follow his line of sight straight down to my breasts, inadvertently pushed up from my crossed arms, and my nipples pebbling through my thin dress.

“oh my god,” i hiss, moving my arms to cover my breasts, “fucking pig.”

his eyes snap up to mine before he rolls them.

“get over yourself, it’s nothing special.”

for some reason, i feel offended. not that him looking at them was great, but the way he shrugs it off and implies my tits are average?

“oh fuck off,” i fume, “people would pay to see these.”

he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows a few times, “you saying people pay to see you naked?”

“what? no!” i’m at a loss for words, not an easy achievement for most people, and yet a common occurrence when i’m around him.

“pretty sure that’s what you implied. and i’m sorry to let you down, but i’m not paying twenty bucks to see your rack.”

i gape, blinking at him in shock, “you couldn’t even pay me fifty to see these!”

i’m not even sure why i’m letting this conversation drag on; why i’m even entertaining it.

i sigh, stalking past him and bumping into his shoulder as i make my way to the living room.

“why would i pay when i could see them for free?” he chuckles at my lame tantrum, following behind me.

“what makes you think that?” i sneer, dropping down on the couch, Cole quick to follow.

“well that’s why you took the job, right?” he laughs, “it’s why you were constantly putting me in the spotlight of the team tiktoks and why you were always so buddy-buddy with me? you’re into me.”

i stare back at him in anger, but also frustration. frustration that anyone would think i would take a job just for a man.

“let’s set things fucking straight,” i snap, “i took the job because it was good pay and i grew up here, therefore, the Canadiens are my team and the plan was always to work for them. long before you showed up.

“i put you in the spotlight of the tiktoks because you’re the fan favorite. you have teeny-bopper girls fawning over your nice guy act and for some reason they fucking eat it up. and finally, i was ‘buddy-buddy’ with you because i thought you were a nice fucking guy and you made me believe we could be friends. never would i ever make a career decision for a fucking guy.”

i’m absolutely seething by the end of my rant, one knee bent on the couch and my body twisted to face him.

“sure.”

that one worded response sets me off. i don’t know what it is about Cole Caufield that gives him the ability to get under my skin like nobody else has, but i’m absolutely rageful.

“god, i can’t believe i ever fucking liked you!” i freeze. the words slipped out before i even had a second to process them, and now i watch as a cocky grin paints his face.

“so you admit, you like me.”

“liked. past tense,” i tell him, “i fell victim to your charming, nice guy facade. but never again.”

“you keep saying that!” he grunts, “i am a nice guy!”

“yeah? well, you certainly pick and choose who to be nice to, and for some reason, i’m not on that list.”

i can’t understand for the life of me why i’m suddenly feeling emotional, but i decide in the moment to blame it on pent up frustration. i always have been an angry crier.

“which is fine,” i sniffle, “but god, you didn’t have to be such a fucking dick. i liked you and i thought you liked me; but then all of a sudden you switched up. you started hating me, and i don’t even know what i did!”

Cole seems at a loss for words, shocked by sudden change of emotions. but, he also seems confused, his brows furrowed and a frown upon his lips.

“you don’t know?” he huffs, “i literally asked you out like five times, y/n! and you rejected me every single time!”

now it’s my turn to be confused, “what? no, you didn’t.”

“uh, yeah, i did! i asked if you wanted to go out for drinks after games like five times and every time you said no!”

realization dawns on me, clarity filling my head, and i can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“why are you laughing?!” Cole groans, head falling onto the back of the couch and hands covering his face.

“because,” i giggle, “this is ridiculous.”

“how?” his response is muffled by the palms of his hands, but i can hear the frustration in his voice.

“because you asked me out five times and all five times, i thought you were just asking if i wanted to join the team for drinks!”

his hands fly away from his face, head snapping up to look at me, “what?!”

i nod my head, overcome by a fit of giggles.

“you thought i was asking you…. to hang out as a group?”

“yes!” i cackle, “and i get uncomfortable in crowded bars, so i made excuses! jesus, Cole! we’ve hated each other for years because i misunderstood your idea of a date!”

Cole is silent for a moment, staring off in front of him at the news playing on the tv, before he slowly begins chuckling.

“oh my god,” he laughs, a hand slapping down on his thigh and making me laugh even harder, “so you hate me now, don’t you?”

“oh yeah,” i nod, “you were a dick!”

“hey!” he chuckles, “you weren’t very nice to me either! i mean just like fifteen minutes ago you shoved an ipad into my chest!”

“you deserved that.” i point to him, narrowing my eyes.

he shrugs, “alright, yeah, i deserved that.”

the room goes mostly quiet, Cole watching the news, while my sight is drawn to the window, watching the snow cascade down to the ground.

we sit there for at least half an hour, him flipping through channels and me watching the blizzard, before a lightbulb goes off in my head.

“hey, i have an idea.” i announce, catching Cole’s attention.

“hmm?”

“i’m sure we both still have some pent up anger and frustration, we can’t exactly just erase the past couple years of hating each other,” he hums for me to continue, “how about a snowball fight?”

he glances over at me with a singular raised brow, “a snowball fight? what, like we’re six?”

“exactly!” i nod, “we get to pelt each other with snowballs and let out any residual anger towards each other, and then we get to start anew. get a clean slate. whadd’ya say?”

his eyes flicker between me and the window for several moments before he nods, “i say let’s do it.”

with that, we scurry from the couch, bundling back into our coats and toque’s, he even lends me a pair of gloves, and then we’re running out into the thick blanket of snow that covers the ground.

we agree on fifteen minutes to build our shields, hurrying to build snow walls as high as we can, and once i deem the ten minutes over, i’m hiding behind my wall, crafting snowballs into a pile beside me.

grabbing one in my hand, i peer out from behind my shield, watch as Cole does the same, and on instinct my hand flexes forward, throwing the snowball as hard as i can.

obviously not from here, Cole’s shield crumbles upon my third snowball throw, making me cackle as the snow cascades down upon him.

he looks over at me with a glare and i duck down, listening to the pelt of snowballs against my shield, but then it goes quiet and all i can hear is the crunch of snow until suddenly it stops.

my brows thread together as i keep an ear out for any sound, but just as i’m about to peer over my wall, it comes crumbling down, and i look up to find the culprit grinning victoriously.

“hey! no fair!” i huff, throwing a snowball right at his chest. he gapes back at me in astonishment.

“you knocked mine down too!” he shouts, a snowball hitting me in the shoulder.

“yeah, but that was an accident! yours was just poorly made!” another snowball to his shoulder, “mine was made well, you knocked it down on purpose!”

he shrugs, taking off and crunching through the snow as he tries to get away. he stops to pick up more snow and i take my chance to throw, hitting him square in the back.

but he doesn’t even turn around, tossing a snowball over his shoulder. i attempt to dodge it but my efforts are in vain as the snow lands directly on the top of my head, making me scoff in frustration.

“rude!” i yell, taking aim and hitting him directly in the back of the head. snow sticks his hair and he whips around to look at me, but upon seeing me; my hat knocked off and snow covering the top of my head, he starts laughing.

“that’s it!” i call out, stomping over to where he’s fallen onto his butt mid-laughter, his eyes squeezed closed as he chuckles with glee.

towering over him, i hold a snowball in my hand, not throwing it, but instead smashing it upon the top of his head.

his laughter falters, his eyes flying open to scowl up at me as i begin to giggle.

“you’re right, that was pretty funny!” i laugh, but i don’t make it long before i step forward, my foot hitting an icy patch of grass, and i fall forward, a squeal leaving my lips as i land on top of him.

“shit.” i breathe out.

“guess you really did fall for me.” he quips and i roll my eyes, but despite the cheesy line and the freezing cold air, the spots in which his hands rest on my sides are burning.

“that was so corny..” i tell him.

“yeah?” he raises a brow, one hand leaving my side, and i almost mourn his touch, but then a handful of snow is being shoved down my coat and i’m squealing, wiggling on top of him as the snow begins to melt into icy water and trickle down my body.

“oh my god, Cole!” i moan in frustration, my face twisting in discomfort.

“don’t do that.” he stiffens, his hands holding me still on top of him.

confusion pinches my face, but then i feel it, his half hardened cock pressing against my thigh.

my teeth sink into my bottom lip, a spark running through my body, but i push myself off of him, standing up and brushing off my coat.

“ya know what sounds good?” i ask him, stepping back as he stands as well.

“what?” he grunts, a small glare pointed my way.

“hot cocoa,” i smile, “or… something else to warm us up.”

“i don’t know if i have cocoa, but i have coffee.”

i nod, “that works! it’ll warm us up and wake us up!”

Cole trudges into the house and i follow suit, but despite my attempt to change the subject, my mind is still stuck on him being turned on.

a gust of air blows through as i reach the door, a shiver traveling down my spine, and i quickly step inside, shutting the door behind me.

i shed my coat and gloves before kicking off my shoes, hanging my now damp hat on the coat hook over my coat.

trailing behind him into the kitchen, i watch as he opens cupboards, rifling through them. i hop up on the counter, legs pressed together, sitting silently until he huffs and turns around.

“i-” he trails off and i follow his eyesight back down to my breasts for the second time today, my nipples stiff and poking through my dress from the previous frigid air.

“Cole.” i snap my fingers, grabbing his attention as his eyes flick back up to my face.

“hmm?”

“god, if you wanna see ‘em, all you gotta do is ask,” i joke, flipping my hair over my shoulder as Cole steps forward.

“can i see them?” he asks, a wicked smirk plastered to his lips.

my lips part, my eyes wide as i blink back at him.

is he serious right now?

surely he’s joking, but i call his bluff, my thumbs slipping through the shoulder collars of my shirt and pulling them down.

i pull my arms out, the top of the dress now only covering my chest, but he continues staring at me. leveling him with a raised brow as i pull the top of my dress down.

i have every intention of just slowly teasing him, but the fabric glides too quickly, my breasts fully exposed to the chilly air now.

his eyes widen and he stumbles slightly in his hurried steps toward me. my teeth sink into my bottom lip, watching him admire my naked chest.

“you actually-” he cuts himself off with a chuckle, his hands hover in the air before them as he peers at me, “can i?”

i nod, and when his cold skin meets mine, a chill runs through me.

lightly pawing at my breasts, his thumb and pointer fingers pinch my nipples, making my back arch involuntary at the stinging touch.

“Cole.” i whimper through a quiet moan.

he steps even closer, nudging my legs open with his body, and my hands reach out, locking around the back of his neck.

“can i kiss you?” i breathe out.

“fuck yeah.”

i pull him forward, finding his lips with mine in a long overdue kiss, and what starts out slow and careful, quickly heats up into something intense and messy.

my tongue slips into his mouth, pushing and battling against his as he continues playing with my nipples, pinching and pulling, rubbing them between us.

a moan reverberates from my mouth and into his, causing him to smile into the kiss.

“you don’t understand how long i’ve been waiting for this.” he mutters, his lips brushing against mine.

“probably not as long as i have.” i tell him honestly, earning a light giggle from him.

his lips capture mine once more, but his hands divert their attention, trailing down my body and pushing my dress down as a result.

“yeah, i forgot, you have the hots for me.” he grins as i lift my hips, allowing him to pull my dress down my legs and fling it onto the counter.

i roll my eyes, wrapping my legs around his waist lightly, “shut up and take me to your room.”

“yes, ma’am.”

i’m almost frightened by the way my core dampens from his reply. i’ve never generally been a dominant person in the bedroom, but there’s something about him that makes me want to become one.

when we reach his bedroom, i unhook my legs, my front sliding down his body and rubbing against his hardened length as my feet lower to the floor.

my hands find the waistband of his sweatpants, still slightly damp from the snow, and i peer at him through my lashes. when he breathes out a lust-driven ‘yes’ in approval, i push them down, allowing him to kick them off and free his cock from the restraint. he pulls his shirt over his head in a rush, leaving him naked before me in all his glory.

tight muscles and chiseled abs make my mouth water, a sculpted v-line leading to his thick cock.

well, now i know why he has his nickname.

leaning in until my lips are nearly pressing against his ear, i whisper an unsure demand, “get on the bed.”

Cole swallows harshly, nodding as he pulls me toward his mattress. sitting on the edge, he looks up at me, awaiting approval, but i shake my head.

“in the middle.” i clarify.

he follows my orders, sitting prettily in the middle of the bed. an animalistic sensation comes over me, urging me to crawl forward on the mattress, and when i do, i hover over him.

one hand rests upon his abs, tracing the results of his stern training regime, while the other presses into the mattress, holding myself up.

i can feel him shiver underneath me as my nails graze across his torso before i find myself trailing down, wrapping my fingers around his erection and giving a small tug.

a hiss falls from his lips, his jaw clenching as his hips jerk up into my fist.

“aww, look at you.” i coo. i bring my hand up to my mouth, licking up my palm before spitting into it twice, rubbing my fingers into it to lubricate it well.

gripping his cock once again, i slowly begin flicking my wrist, pumping as i stare down at him.

shaky curses and tight grunts come from his mouth, his body writhing underneath me, and the sight is enough to make my core pulse, wetness dampening my panties.

i take the moment to trail wet kisses up his chest, starting from the top of his abdomen and leading all the way up to his collarbone.

“so good for me.” i hum, backing away to spit on his cock.

my thumb rubs over his tip, the mix of precum and saliva helping my hand pump his dick smoothly, and he groans loudly, eyes squeezing shut as his face scrunches in pleasure.

“please, y/n,” he whimpers, his voice cracking, “i’m not gonna last. i wanna be inside you.”

“yeah? you think you deserve my pussy?”

i don’t even know who i am anymore, but i find myself liking the newfound confidence that fills my body.

“yes,” he nods harshly, “yes, please!”

my hand stills, releasing him and flattening against the comforter to wipe off the spit.

“condom?” i question, and he points to his bedside drawer, watching closely as i lean over and grab one.

i open the foil packet carefully, discarding it on the nightstand and pinching the tip before slowly rolling it onto him. my motions earn another huffed out breath of pleasure from his lips.

my thumbs hook into the waistband of my panties, pushing them down and off my legs before i throw them to the floor.

crawling back over top of him, i grasp his cock in my hands one more time, rubbing it through my slick folds. it’s glides smoothly through my wetness, and my head tips back as it rubs against my clit.

“fuck, Cole.”

lining him up with my entrance, i sink down slowly, the tip of his cock penetrating my core and stretching out my walls. the stinging pleasure worsens as i sink down lower, and i begin slowly bouncing with shallow movements until it becomes easier to slide onto his erection.

his hands grip my hips tightly, fingertips digging into my skin, but i can’t bring myself to care as i finally take all of him.

“shit.” he curses through gritted teeth, voice tight.

i slowly begin grinding my hips, my clit brushing against his pelvic bone with every movement, and i cry out as i begin bouncing on top of him, his hips meeting mine with shallow thrusts upwards.

my jaw slackens, breathy moans drifting out as i work my hips up and down, listening intently to the sound of his cock sliding through my wetness as my walls draw him in with each downward motion.

“god, you’re so big.” my words are shaky, my hands clutching at his chest in order to support myself.

soon, my legs begin to tire, shaking in both pleasure and exhaustion, and Cole catches on quickly, taking over the brunt of the work as he begins to pound into me from below.

the intensity of his thrusts sends me falling forward, my tits pressing against his chest, and he takes of the position, capturing my lips with his in a heated manner.

his lips press against mine, his tongue exploring my mouth, and it’s a struggle for me not to cry out as the new angle causes the tip of his cock to graze my g-spot with every thrust.

my stomach begins tightening with slowly building pressure, my walls clenching around him with my impending orgasm.

my toes curl, and knowing i’m close, i break our kiss, snaking my hand between our bodies in order to rub my clit.

“fuck, i’m close.” he gruffs, his hips smacking against mine as his thrusts speed up.

i nod my head against him, “me too.”

my fingers circle my clit, pushing me further and further towards the edge, but before i can get there, Cole is one step ahead.

he lets out a harsh grunt, spilling out into the condom as he fucks me through his release, and the feeling of his dick pulsating inside me spurs on my own climax.

my breath hitches, toes curling as i cum around his cock, my fingers slowing down on my clit.

slumping entirely against him, my head lays against his shoulder, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath me.

“what the fuck just happened?” i pant, rolling off of him in favor of burying myself into his side.

his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me tighter to him as he chuckles.

“a goddamn christmas miracle.”

i giggle loudly, a snort escaping me and in turn making him laugh harder.

when we finally calm down, our breathing evening out and our bodies feeling somewhat more relaxed, Cole gets out of the bed, disposing of the condom in his en-suite bathroom trashcan before returning with a wet rag.

i open my legs, my hips jerking as he cleans me up, and i wait patiently as he pulls on a pair of boxers, throwing me a pair and a clean t-shirt.

i pull them on quickly, eager to cuddle more, and when he finally joins me back in the bed, my leg is quickly thrown over his hips, my arm resting on his chest as my head gets buried in his neck.

“you’re a cuddler.” he states the obvious, his hand running up and down my back as i hum in agreement.

“is that a problem?” i question, eyes fluttering shut, and i can feel him shake his head.

he pulls me in tighter, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “just an observation for the future.”

“the future?”

“oh yeah, you’re not getting rid of me now.” he tells me, but i can hear it plain as day; he’s nervous.

i heave out a deep sigh, my body melting into his before i answer, “wasn’t planning on it.”

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

"Just a cold" that changes the structure and mass of your brain

By Nikhil Prasad

Medical News: A groundbreaking study from researchers at the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA)-USA has shed light on how Long COVID is linked to structural changes in the brain caused by SARS-CoV-2. By using advanced imaging techniques, the team discovered structural changes in the brains of individuals with Long COVID, including increased cortical thickness and gray matter volume in specific regions. This Medical News report will explore the study's key findings, its implications for understanding Long COVID, and what it means for patients suffering from this persistent condition.

Understanding the Research Approach The study involved participants from the UCLA hospital and broader Los Angeles community, with 36 individuals ranging in age from 20 to 67. Among them, 15 had Long COVID symptoms, while others were used as healthy controls. Researchers utilized structural magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) to compare brain differences between these groups. The study focused on specific brain regions, such as the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex (DLPFC) and the cingulate gyrus, which are known to be involved in cognitive and emotional processes. These areas were chosen because they are susceptible to inflammation and have been linked to neuropsychiatric symptoms.

To assess participants' cognitive and emotional health, tools like the Montreal Cognitive Assessment (MoCA) and the Hamilton Anxiety and Depression scales were used. The imaging data were processed using specialized software to measure cortical thickness and gray matter volume, providing a detailed look at the brain's structural changes.

Key Study Findings The study revealed several critical findings that deepen our understanding of Long COVID's impact on the brain. Participants with Long COVID showed:

-Increased Cortical Thickness: Regions such as the caudal anterior cingulate, posterior cingulate, and rostral middle frontal gyrus exhibited significantly higher cortical thickness compared to controls.

-Higher Gray Matter Volume: In areas like the posterior and isthmus cingulate gyri, Long COVID patients had greater gray matter volume.

Interestingly, these structural changes were associated with the severity of clinical symptoms. For example, higher thickness in the cingulate regions correlated with more severe chronic illness scores, while increased insular thickness was linked to anxiety levels.

Such changes suggest that Long COVID might lead to either swelling due to inflammation or compensatory mechanisms like neurogenesis to counteract damage.

How This Study Compares with Previous Research While most COVID-19-related brain studies have shown reductions in gray matter and cortical thickness, this research indicates an increase in these metrics for Long COVID pa tients. Prior studies focused on acute COVID cases often revealed brain shrinkage and cognitive decline. In contrast, this study highlights that Long COVID might involve unique mechanisms, such as prolonged inflammation or a compensatory response to earlier damage.

Implications for Patients and Healthcare Providers These findings are crucial for both patients and healthcare professionals. They suggest that the persistent symptoms of Long COVID, such as brain fog, fatigue, and anxiety, could have a physical basis in brain structure changes. Recognizing this connection can lead to better-targeted treatments and interventions.

The Future of Long COVID Research While this study offers valuable insights, it also leaves many questions unanswered. For example, are these brain changes reversible? Do they worsen over time? The researchers acknowledge the study's limitations, including its small sample size and lack of longitudinal data. Future studies should aim to include larger, more diverse populations and examine changes over time to build a clearer picture of Long COVID's effects.

Conclusions This research from UCLA represents a significant step forward in understanding the neurological impacts of Long COVID. The observed increases in cortical thickness and gray matter volume in certain brain regions provide strong evidence that Long COVID involves measurable structural brain changes. These findings offer hope that by identifying the physical manifestations of this condition, we can develop more effective treatments to alleviate its symptoms. However, the path forward requires continued research to uncover the full extent of these changes and their implications.

The study emphasizes the importance of addressing neuropsychiatric symptoms in Long COVID patients and highlights the need for comprehensive care that includes both physical and mental health support. As we move forward, it is vital to integrate these insights into public health strategies to help those affected by this debilitating condition.

The study findings were published in the peer-reviewed journal: Frontiers in Psychiatry. www.frontiersin.org/journals/psychiatry/articles/10.3389/fpsyt.2024.1412020/full

[we-weavile]

I explained to my mom that i met Keith Siverstein today at the con and I was almost in tears while talking because it was such an intense moment for me to meet him. Im still shaking 😭😭😭

I even asked him if he voiced Zhongli recently. He told me that it was a secret. We both laughed dgsjsjhshd

He is so nice and kind!!

[reasonsforhope]

The 1987 Montreal Protocol, which phased out the production and use of chemicals that were depleting the ozone layer, has long been considered one of the most successful environmental treaties in history. New research finds that the global pact achieved another unforeseen benefit: delaying the melting of Arctic sea ice.

In a study published Monday in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, researchers from the University of Exeter and Columbia University found that the implementation of the Montreal Protocol is delaying the first ice-free Arctic summer by up to 15 years. That’s because the chemicals banned under the agreement are also potent greenhouse gases.

“Our results show that the climate benefits from the Montreal Protocol are not in some faraway future: the protocol is delaying the melting of Arctic sea ice at this very moment,” Lorenzo Polvani, one of the study’s authors, said in a press release. 

The study authors ran a series of climate models based on two different scenarios: one that included levels of ozone-depleting substances that would be expected if the Montreal Protocol never existed, and another accounting for the global treaty. The researchers concluded that the protocol is postponing the first ice-free Arctic summer by a decade or more, and entirely due to the phasedown of ozone-depleting chemicals. 

The Montreal Protocol was created to address a hole in the stratospheric ozone layer over the Antarctic. The ozone layer protects the Earth from harmful ultraviolet radiation that causes skin cancer and cataracts in humans. The treaty phased out almost 100 chemicals — including aerosols used in hair spray and other products, refrigerants, and solvents — that were found to be responsible for destroying stratospheric ozone.

Those banned chemicals, collectively called ozone-depleting substances, or ODS, are also potent greenhouse gases, with up to tens of thousands times the global warming potential of carbon dioxide. The report authors estimate that 1 metric ton of avoided ODS emissions leads to 7,000 square meters (more than 75,000 square feet) of avoided Arctic sea loss. By way of comparison, 1 metric ton of carbon dioxide emissions results in about 3 square meters (about 32 square feet) of sea ice loss. 

Given the potency of ODSs as a greenhouse gas, the authors are not surprised at this outsize impact on Arctic sea ice levels. “Nonetheless, such a large mitigating impact of the Montreal Protocol on Arctic sea ice loss is remarkable if one keeps in mind that the protocol was aimed at preventing ozone depletion in the Antarctic stratosphere, and little was known of its effect on Arctic sea ice when the protocol was signed,” the authors noted.

According to their projections, the Montreal Protocol has already prevented more than half a million square kilometers (about 193,000 square miles) of sea ice loss. By 2030, that amount will rise to more than 1 million square kilometers, and to 2 million square kilometers of prevented Arctic sea ice loss by 2040.

-via Grist, 5/24/23