#oh shit waddup u caught me
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vanhelsiing · 7 years ago
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“..why are you staring at me?” //It doesnt even have to be sexual tension if you dont want it to be!
sexual tension sentence starters (part two) / @tomahowl.  
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   would it be CONSIDERED staring?  or was ADMIRATION the proper term?  he’s not quite sure, but he viewed this man as an equal and as a friend.  if it was rooted in something deeper, he would not dare to mention it for fear of destroying that trust.  he looks down for a moment, pondering what to say in response.  he should’ve been more subtle, otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten himself into said predicament.  “there is something on your face, gun powder i believe?”  he jokes, mainly to get the heat off of him for the moment.
 and still he cannot seem to keep his mouth shut, because there is something deeper there, and it ALMOST terrifies him.  “alright, you caught me.”  he confesses like he’s back at the vatican with cardinal jinette, “consider it admiration, of sorts.  for both your kindness, prowess in battle, and for the mere fact that you are admittedly beautiful to look at.”  he’s bluntly honest, deciding he’d save himself the pain of dodging the topic in the future.
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cake-in-a-tin · 4 years ago
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welcome to our mayhem
hi! Welcome to my first attempt at a text fic, idk how good it ‘tis, but let me know what you think! (lils-Lily, burgerz-Mary, queen-Marlene, wonderland gurl-Alice, dork-Dorcas)
tHe BaEs
Lils: yo dudes
Burgerz: waddup
Lils: imma add this girl who’s joining tomorrow if that’s ok - we’re old friends from like nursery
Queen: sure, is that dorcas meadowes ?
Queen: I think I’m her tour guide or some shit
Wonderland gurl: sorry I was sleeping
Wonderland gurl: what did I miss
Queen: wHaT dId I mIsS
Queen: hEaDfIrSt InTo A pOlItIcAl AbYsS
Burgerz: i been in paris meeting lotsa different ladayys
Wonderland gurl: I guess I practically missed the late eightaysss
Queen: travelled the whole wiiideee world and came back to this
Lils: pleeeeassse not again....
Lils: mar I thought you were on my side???
Queen: sorryyyyyy
Queen: I couldn’t resist it
Queen: it was perfect!
Wonderland gurl: it was indeed. I set you up fuckin perfectly u are very much welcome biatch
Burgerz: *slow claps in appreciation*
Lils: anyways imma add this girl now, she is dorcas mar and she’s lovely so be nice!
Lils added Dork
Lils: welcome to our mayhem love 
Dork: hii 
Lils: shall we all like introduce ourselves?
Queen: k, I’m first
Queen: hello, I am Marlene McKinnon, and I’m your stupid tour guide thing that Dumbledore thought was a good idea
Burgerz: hi, I’m Mary MacDonald (hence the name) and I’m very bad at maths, which is also my only personality trait
Wonderland gurl: hello there, my name is Alice Fortescue (don’t try and spell it it took me almost seven years of my life) and I have a fucked up sleep schedule tm
Lils: everyone knows me uwu 
Dork: okay, im Dorcas Meadowes, and I’m just a bi disaster haha
Queen: lol mood
Wonderland gurl: oh btw dorcas we are all lgbtq+ soo 
Dork: okay cool 
Queen: ya, I’m gay, lils is pan, mary is aroace and alice is queer
Wonderland gurl: yh I’m figuring it out but ik girls are pretty as well so :)
Dork: can relate lol
Wonderland gurl: I should probably sleep it’s school and I haven’t slept properly in like three fuckin daysss
Queen: gurrrrllllll omg u r gonna dieee tomorrow
Wonderland gurl: ik im scared and it’s only seven thirty but i will sleep like four and a half hours of that because I just watch netflix aaahh
Burgerz: just gooo Ali, otherwise u will regret everything
Wonderland gurl: k byeee bitchez
Lils: bye
Queen: bye love
Burgerz: cheerio
Dork: bye I think?
Lils: we're all a mess, u get used to it dw 
Lils: also Mary can u get anymore stereotypical British omg
Burgerz: I’m sorry babe it’s in my natureeee
Queen: lol
Queen: I ghibhjfyfvbss
Dork: r u ok?
Queen: a frickin moth bro 
Queen: it attacked me and I’m scared because I didn’t see where it went
Lils: I’m rooting for you love
Queen attached a video
Burgerz : omg I’m dyingggg your voicem u sound so scared
Queen: lmao I was scared for my life if I’m being honest 
Dork: ahahahaha I’m laughing out loud and my cat is just looking at me like wtf is wrong with you human
Queen: u have CAT???
Burgerz: you have a cat? I must see him
Queen: lol we are on the same wavelength haha
Burgerz: ✨soulmates✨ Burgerz: but like platonically lol
Dork: here is mouse
Dork attached a photo
Queen: vvffdyujcndh 
Queen: so fuckin adorable
Burgerz: I LOVE him
Lils: I’ve seen him before and I love him, but I don’t think I ever asked - why mouse?
Dork: lmao we just thought it would be ironic
Dork: also he’s never caught a mouse or anything else in his life because he’s too damn lazy
Queen: omg I relate to mouse so much lol
Dork: honestly same 
Lils: dudes we should probs sleep if we want to be beautiful for school
Queen: ugh sleep is so overrated 
Queen: but yeah...
Lils: bye xxx
Burgerz: adios 
Dork: byeee
Queen: see yall tomorrow
Private message: Lils + Queen
Queen: yo, quick question
Lils: shoot
Queen: what does dorcas look like?
Lils: ummm idk, why?
Queen: eh no reason
Lils: she’s black, short dark brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes
Queen: so cute?
Lils: hell yeh
Queen: oh god save me
Lils: yh u will need prayers
Queen: aaaahh 
Queen: well gn 
Lils: night xxx
tHe BaEs
Wonderland gurl: good morning!
Queen: no it is not
Lils: I’m dyingggg cancel schools pls
Wonderland gurl: I slept fuckin amazingly last night soooo :)))))))
Dork: hjeicnefskd 
Dork: I can’t 
Queen: oop me neither mornings are my least favourite thing ever 
Lils: uggghhhhhh 
Lils: sooo jealous of Mary
Dork: why?
Wonderland gurl: she lives rlly close to school so she wakes uo super late and just walks
Dork: wow luckyyyy
Lils: ikrrrr
Queen: I want to sleep
Wonderland gurl: no! remeber what happened last time you were late?
Queen: oh god don’t remind me
Dork: do I even want to know?
Queen: nkt really lol
Queen: lily u tell it I need to shower
Lils: okayyy
Lils: get ready for a fuckin wild ride babe
Lils: so, we have this teacher called McGonagall and she’s the single most terrifying yet amazing person ever to teach us
Wonderland gurl: and that’s saying something trust me
Lils: she’s pretty chill until u do something that pisses her off. And one thing that pisses her off is people being late. Marlene was late because she couldn’t get her lazy ass out of bed, and she came into form time like ten minutes after the bell rang. as you can imagine, McGonagall was not at all pleased at this, and proceeded to give mar a lecture in front of the whole class and then give her detention for a whole week. Before school.
Wonderland gurl: Marlene looked sooo tired the whole week
Dork: wow, that is ✨brutal✨ Dork: remind me never to be late
Lils: will do x
Wonderland gurl: we have to remind Marlene every once in a while of the ‘‘incident’ to motivate her to get out of bed
Queen: I’m back dudes 
Queen: so you see dorcas that is why I am never ever late anymore because that week was absolute hell I am not going through again.
Queen: ever
Dork: honestly I’m scared to meet this teacher lmao
Wonderland gurl: nah she’s actually soo nice unless you get on her bad side
Burgerz: heyyyy
Lils: maryyyy
Dork: hello!
Burgerz: so, everyone ready for school?
Queen: pretty much, I’m on the train rn
Lils: same, I’m opposite her
Dork: oooh I am also travelling by train I will try to find u guys 
Queen: we are right at the end, if I see you I will scream ‘cheese’ as loud as I can
Lils: noooooo please, can’t embarrassing us in public wait at least a day
Queen: nope
Dork: u don’t even know what I look like lmao
Queen: I will know
Lils attached a video file
Dork: lmao i was terrified
Queen: it worked though 
Wonderland gurl: I’m so glad I get the bus and don’t have to endure this
Burgerz: wow. How are you not embarrassed Marlene?
Queen: idk, I guess I don’t care what oriole think lol
Dork: rEsPeCt
Dork: also please never again
Private message: Lils + Dork
Dork: LILY WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME MARLENE WAS ACTUALLY SO BEAUTIFUL IM DYING 
Lils: lmao sorry
Private message: Lils + Queen
Queen: oh god u were right she’s so hot helppppp
Lils: I’m praying 4 u
hii! I hope that you liked this mess, I’m probably going to continue it, so yeah, let me know what you think?
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nstclgic-blog · 5 years ago
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waddup lads ! i’m chloe, twenty, she/her, cst. so pumped to be here and get my spy drama on. i’m a bit late to the party bc of... dun dun... work. but i’m here now and here to clown !! tumblr im lowkey (highkey) sucks so forgive me if i immediately ask you for your discord. but !! let’s get our tea on !!
UNREDACTED CASE FILE NO. 888888- QPC records show that agent vertebrae, given name LUCINDA MAY DIXON was last seen in florence on october 31st, 2019. psych eval describes them as dry & nurturing but otherwise fit for service at the maenads. at thirty-three, they have been recruited as a biomedical agent for the past four years. associations include: hair that is often pulled, cold laughter in a morgue, chipped sparkle nailpolish. end of file.   -   ashley graham, cis female, she/her
tbh, normally just goes by luce. lucy if you’re trying to be real soft.
had a very middle class upbringing in south virginia. two siblings, two parents who loved each other. then there was luce. who always kind of itched for more. sure, she had the mediocrity in her blood like her family, but she always craved rising above it.
school was fine. she was clearly the smartest in the family. she kept to herself, feeling alienated from their picture perfect and oh-so-boring lived. which was fine. she found her solitude with others which was mainly the nerds who spent weekends trying to hack into different things. 
she always had a love for the medical, but in a bit more morbid sense than you’re use to. she’d be known at the one to come get fixed up after a brawl when at parties. she’d do it fast and clean and never ask any questions.
were her parents concerned? sure. did she care? not really. 
she was able to get some college done in high school and got her pre-med done at the age of twenty-one. med school was whatever. she stuck around mostly the same kind of people; who were rough and rowdy and liked having her around. 
she ended up getting a job in the morgue of the hospital. being stuck with the dead people seemed far better than the alive ones. it was also easier to sneak in people to get them patched up from their shenanigans. it didn’t take luce very long to fix up a few strangers before she got invited into the maenads.
listen. she’s not a super spy. she hates the idea of running around and trying to steal diamonds or whatever it is they do. but she’s happy to let them come to her after they’ve been shot and take out their bullet. she enjoys the people who work down with her than the arrogant freaks who run around above ground.
doesn’t mean she didn’t end up getting caught up with one. “falling in love” was kind of dumb, and she’d done it a couple times before but it just ended up hurting everyone involved so she mostly kept away. she did, though. fell in love and got pregnant way faster than she should have. 
but he never got to meet his son. he died on a mission when luce was eight months pregnant. the news was devastating. even more devastating was realizing her son had his eyes and she’d have to be reminded by it every time she looked at him.
but god, if that kid didn’t change everything.
it’s hard, considering her work. she doesn’t like that she’s not around as much as she’d like to be. her son, matty, stays with a friend frequently. he’s over two now, which is crazy. but she sees him every time she manages to go back to her home.
personality
she’s dry. she certainly has a sense of humor it’s just the kind you can’t pick up on right away. 
she’s always cared for fixing up people but never likes to make it seem like she cares that much.
generally lovely but like no hugs thanks hugs are gross.
doesn’t like to flirt or engage much intimately. after her partner died, she kind of rejected the idea of getting involved again.
(but it’s lonely)
wanted plots
annoyance from a field agent. bc they annoy her. 
buddies from biomed or tech or research
past ??? things ??? she was only with that partner for a few months before getting pregnant. maybe 1.5 year
someone(s) who is there for her & her kid
baBY SITTER PLS N THANK
all the basic shit u kno
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bobwrites · 7 years ago
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bsdtales zine fic preview !
AYYY WADDUP ITS FINALLY GON BE OUT ON FEB BUY N PREORDER THAT SHIT YALL ITS GOOD QUALITY ART AND FANFICTION U WILL NOT REGRET
ANYWAy heres the preview for The Wolf’s Gambit that you might’ve seen in the sample here for @bsdtales’ fractured fairy tales zine
Special special special thank you and kisses to all the people who helped me with the zine and brainstorming thank you kura, sodium, stan, mom, maman catargo, thais! im too lazy to tag accs orz but yall kno who u r thanks a lot my dudes
Once upon a time there was a little girl who was called little Red Riding-Hood, because she was quite small and because she always wore a red cloak with a big red hood to it, which her grandmother had made for her.
A little girl, no more than five, made her way through the dim hallway, bleary eyed and tired from the bout of nightmares that had woken her in the first place. She did not notice the slim figure slipping out of her father’s bedroom until she’d stumbled into its legs. All bleariness gone, she lifted her face to the stranger’s, cut in shadow and moonlight from a window someone had forgotten to draw the curtains over. The figure bent to face level, knees resting in the plush carpet, and in the new light the girl could tell it was a man--perhaps a friend of father’s? He smiled an easy grin, and the girl relaxed; no friend of papa’s would hurt her.
She removed her thumb from her mouth.  “Are you papa’s friend?”
“No,” replied the man, still with the same easy smile. He pointed to the framed portrait above them, a hand-painted depiction of a family of five. “Can you tell who are they? Who’s that, to the left?”
“Oh oh--that she’s my elder sister, and the one over there? That’s my second favourite sister, and that’s papa and mama, holding Asako-chan--she’s always crying, but she’s cuter than the others and likes me the best,” the girl’s words were eager, running together in excitement--it was clear she loved to talk about her family.
“And who’s your first favourite sister? Asako?” the stranger gave a playful tug at her braid. “Or do you prefer brothers?”
“Oh no, brothers are horrible. Asako doesn’t play with me a lot, though, so my first favourite is that one over there. She makes dolls for me and plays with me the most.”
“She sounds sweet, Hana.”
“How-how do you know my name?” Hana gaped, eyes wide.
“Oh, I know the names of all the children. I know your favourite sister’s Chiyoko, and your eldest is Hanami. Don’t you know that I live under your beds and basements?”
“So what mama told me--it is true! You don’t look like a monster, though.” the cold fingers of fear had began to grip her one by one. Monsters were cruel, horrendous, and yet the stranger was beautiful, eyes warm and amiable--
The next time he spoke, the stranger’s voice was soft, a silky lull no different from how mama’s was when she had tucked her into bed. “Tell you what, Hana. If you tell anyone that I was here, the monster will know and put Mama and Asako to sleep. You don’t want them asleep forever, do you?”
Hana shook her head in silence, felt her knees knock together as the stranger made to rise. “Go to bed, Hana. Pretend as if I’d never been here, just a little nightmare, off you go.”
So Hana turned her back on the monster and darted into her room, almost tripping over in haste, the last thing she saw out of the corner of her eye a flash of red caught in the moonlight.
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olllmaatta · 8 years ago
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hang an anchor from the sun
connor didn't expect to leave the world cup as jack eichel's friend, yet here he is.
and it keeps on snowballing from there.
(this is for @dyllarkin i’m sorry this took me so damn long lmao hope you like it anyways fam)
ao3
Connor finds out about the ankle sprain from NHL.com, picking up his phone after a cooldown cycle in the gym after morning skate. Immediately, he goes to compose a text, something like that sucks or I’m sorry or hey, if you need to talk, just let me know because apparently they’re that kind of friends now. (The World Cup was weird.) But then he remembers how much he wouldn’t have appreciated texts like that back when he broke his collarbone, how much they reminded him of all that he wasn’t doing. And sure, they’re not rookies anymore, but both of them do still have the weight of failing franchises of their shoulders.
So instead, he googles o shit i’ve fallen and i can’t waddup and texts the resulting image to Jack, captioning it is this you?
He doesn’t wait for a response, resolutely putting his phone away and going to shower. If Jack doesn’t text back, that’s fine. He’s probably hopped up on drugs anyways, and Connor is almost definitely not high on Jack’s list of priorities. That’s fine. It’s fine. As long as Jack will be back on the ice in a month or so, everything will be fine.
Jack still hasn’t texted back by the time he wakes up from his pregame nap, but Connor tells himself again that it doesn’t matter. He’s got to get to the rink and focus on his own game, the weight of the C on his chest feeling like more than just a letter and a title. Last year, he was the prophesied saviour, the Next One, but now? Now he’s supposed to be the leader, and he’s not sure if he can do it.
All that fades away when he steps onto the ice, however, blood rushing and skates cutting through the fresh ice. This is their season opener, and hell if he’s going to waste it thinking about a friend on a different team who sprained his ankle. He’s got bigger fish to fry tonight.
And the game itself might not be the prettiest he’s ever played, but he comes away from it with two goals and an assist and his first win as captain of the Edmonton Oilers under his belt, so that’s good and all. He also gets Johnny asking him if he’s heard anything from Jack, as if Connor’s supposed to be keeping track of him just because – well, just because he’s Connor McDavid, he supposes. “He hasn’t texted me back,” he had said, shaking his head.
Johnny had looked surprised, as if he had expected something more from their relationship. “Me neither,” he had settled for saying, however. “If you hear anything, let me know, okay?”
Connor wonders about this, because if Jack was to text either of them back first it would definitely be Johnny, who was a. exclusively Jack’s liney throughout training camp and the first game and b. not Connor McDavid, whom Jack had apparently only very recently stopped hating. But then he’s finally on his way home, having passed on requests to go out tonight in favour of – honestly, he doesn’t know.
His place is quiet and empty when he gets back, just like he expected, but he can’t help but wonder what it would be like if there was someone here waiting for him, maybe sitting on the couch aimlessly watching whatever plays after postgame or snacking on the chips he keeps hidden from himself. But there’s nothing waiting for him at home but the darkness and the chill of heating that somehow still hasn’t kicked in.
Shedding his suit jacket and loosening his tie, he plugs his phone into the charger on the countertop and rummages in the fruit up drawer of his fridge for a snack, looking to get an early night. His phone buzzes as he rinses an apple, and he ignores it for a moment, thinking that it’s got to be someone texting to congratulate him or something. He’ll deal with that later. But then it keeps on going, telling Connor that he’s got a phone call from someone that evidently will not be dissuaded by his not coming to the phone. With a sigh, he picks up without looking at the screen. “Hey, this is Connor,” he says.
“Hey, it’s me,” Jack responds. “I – I got your text.”
Connor laughs despite himself. “Did you appreciate it?”
“You’re a few months behind the times,” Jack says. “But yes, I appreciated it anyways.”
“Good to hear,” Connor says.
Jack’s silent on the other side of the line for a moment, the two just listening to each other breathe, but then he finally says, “It sucks, you know? That it happened at practice and all.”
Connor hums in agreement, taking another bite of his apple. “You’ll be back soon,” he says despite knowing just how little statements like that actually do to help.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jack says. “Good game tonight, though.”
“You watched it?” Connor asks, pleased despite himself.
Jack laughs. “Caught a few minutes in the third. You looked good.”
“Thanks,” Connor says. “You – get better soon, okay?”
“Okay,” Jack says dryly. “Whatever the great McJesus says. You sure you can’t lend me some of those godlike healing powers?”
“Healing powers my ass,” Connor responds. “You think I wouldn’t have used those when my collarbone got fucked up?”
He can hear Jack’s grin through the call. “Man, you probably just wanted a break. Lazy-ass motherfucker.”
“Fight me, see if I’m lazy,” Connor shoots back.
“Dude, you have no idea how much I would’ve paid to fight you a year ago,” Jack responds.
Connor smiles even though he knows that Jack can’t see him. “Yeah, well, what about now?” he asks before he can stop himself.
There’s silence on the other end of the line, and Connor’s worried that he’s misstepped, somehow, and Jack’s going to hang up on him and ghost him and fade out of his life and the very idea is terrifying.
But then Jack laughs again. “You’ve got the worst taste in everything, of course I’d still fight you,” and Connor breathes a sigh of relief.
(He lies awake thinking about this when he finally hangs up and goes to bed half an hour later. It scares him how much Jack’s insinuated himself into Connor’s life, made himself indispensable and irreplaceable. But he accepts it – he has to accept it, because now that Jack’s slotted himself into a hole in Connor’s life, Connor doesn’t know how to let go.)
(And that’s okay.)
Jack texts him even more than he used to while he’s in the middle of recovery, something that Connor most definitely did not expect but embraces wholeheartedly. It seems that he wakes up practically every other day to some kind of complaint about how PT fucking sucks or to some dumb meme that he found while browsing Reddit. It’s strange, this easy friendship they’ve somehow fallen into together. And, sure, this may have been what Connor was looking for when he asked Jack to hang out that one night during the pretournament games, but he can say with some certainty that he never expected to be this successful.
When Buffalo comes to Edmonton, Jack’s not on the plane (for obvious reasons). Connor tries not to be terribly disappointed by this, but it was still one of the few chances he had to hang out with Jack and it’s a shame to let it go to waste. Wish u were here, he texts before he can stop himself, and then forces himself not to avoid his phone for the next forty years. It’s completely normal thing for a guy to text his friend, right? It’s not going to – Jack isn’t –
Me too, Jack responds.
Connor’s heart swells with fondness, even when Jack adds, we’re still gonna beat ur ass tho.
“Who’s got you making such a stupid face?” Nursey asks, leaning in in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Connor’s phone screen.
“Your mom,” Connor shoots back automatically, pocketing his phone.
(He’s informed by three separate people in the next five minutes that he’s still grinning like a loon.)
Connor sends Jack a few Snapchats of his latest attempt at cooking after a game one night. He forgets about timezones, however, and doesn’t get a response until the next morning. It’s Jack, just woken up, hair messy and face still creased from the pillow. Connor thinks he’s beautiful.
He also spends too long staring at the picture to actually process the caption.
So instead of responding generically, he chooses to leave Jack on opened and call Stromer instead. “What do you want, Davo?” Stromer says, mildly miffed. “I have to leave for practice in five minutes.”
“Jack Snapped me as soon as he woke up and he looked so good,” Connor says bluntly.
Stromer cackles right into the phone, forcing Connor to pull his ear away from the speaker. “Jesus Christ, that’s why you called me? I thought you were like dying or something!”
“I am dying here,” Connor whines, flopping back on his bed, dropping his phone next to him.
Stromer probably rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re being so dramatic over Jack fucking Eichel, man, what the fuck happened to ‘he’s objectively hot but also an asshole so I’d never fuck him’?”
“Fuck you, I don’t sound like that,” Connor protests halfheartedly.
“You’re completely stupid over him,” Stromer laughs, completely ignoring Connor’s misfortunes. “I can’t believe this, oh my god, this is fucking gold.”
“Shut up and let me pine in peace,” Connor says.
Stromer laughs. “If you wanted peace, you wouldn’t have called me.”
“You’re right,” Connor sighs, rolling over onto his stomach. “Distract me. Has Brinksy done anything supremely stupid lately?”
“You don’t even know,” Stromer laughs, staying on the line even as he gets his stuff into his car and drives to practice. It’s comfortable, feels like home, and Connor can pretend that he’s not thinking about Jack at all.
When he finally gets off the phone, though, there’s another Snapchat waiting for him. Can’t believe you’re leaving me on opened, Jack says against the backdrop of an unknown road outside a car’s windshield.
Sorry, Connor responds, retaking the picture five times before he’s finally satisfied.
Amidst all the talk of another McDavid-Matthews matchup (which Connor for one thinks is dumb – Auston’s a pretty cool guy and they played on the same line on the World Cup, so the media should maybe stop), Connor gets a text from Jack that simply says I’M CLEARED!!!
And that means that Jack’s going to be playing against him when the Oilers go to Buffalo, and sure, that should be exciting, but then Auston gives him the most shit-eating grin from across the faceoff dot and says, “Got any plans in Buffalo?”
Connor may or may not shove him out of the way with a little more force than is necessary.
(Honestly, Auston’s one to talk. Connor can see the way he and Mitch look at each other. It’s disgusting. He shouldn’t be forced to suffer like this.)
(I swear to God matts and marns are trying to get into each other’s pants, he texts Jack after the game. If he has to suffer through this, Jack’s going to too.)
(Not something I want to b thinking about, Jack responds.)
Jack looks good across the faceoff dot in Buffalo. Connor wants to tell him as much, but the ref is still looking between them like he’s afraid they’ll start fighting or something, so he swallows the words and goes for the puck. But it’s good, though, all clean hits and exhilarating races for the puck, and Connor feels at home in his own skin.
He’s still mildly bitter about the OT loss, though, especially since he didn’t manage a goal of his own and the Oilers choked at the last second again, but at least he put up two points to Jack’s one so that’s something. He can work with that.
And Jack appears at the visitor locker room after the game, freshly showered and back in his game-day suit, wide grin and stupidest hair and all. Connor’s fairly certain that he’s got the dumbest look on his own face just by the way Nursey’s barely holding in his laughter in the next stall over. “Yo, Davo, want to come get dinner with me?”
“Sure,” Connor says, smiling despite himself.
Nursey wiggles his eyebrows ridiculously. “Be back before curfew! No funny business!”
“We can’t cover for you if you miss team breakfast,” Ebs adds with a shit-eating grin. “So try not to go home with him, okay?”
Connor sighs. “Get the fuck outta here,” he says, but without any real heat.
(He’s thought about it.)
(He’d never tell Ebs that, though.)
Jack takes him to get wings, because they’re in Buffalo and they’re both huge fucking clichés. No one in the restaurant pays them any mind, which Connor is supremely thankful for. “Let me order,” Jack says as soon as the waitress leaves them to pore over their menus.
Connor shrugs. “You know what’s good,” he agrees.
They’re quiet once their waitress has taken their orders and left. Both their phones are out, but it’s not as awkward as Connor might still have expected. Instead, it’s comfortable, an easy companionship, and Jack keeps on wordlessly getting his attention just to show him funny Instagram posts or dumb videos.
Then he suddenly says, “They asked you about me again?” He slides his phone across the table to show Connor an article on nhl.com about the game that they just played.
Connor shrugs. “Don’t worry. I didn’t tell them about all the time you’ve wasted on Reddit when you should have been napping or the ridiculous number of dumbfuck memes you send me.”
“Excuse you, those are good memes,” Jack shoots back, mock-offended.
“There’s no such thing as a ‘good meme’,” Connor insists, complete with air-quotes and all. Nevertheless, he slides Jack’s phone back to him. “But I didn’t throw you under the bus, is what I’m saying.”
“So what did you say? ‘A good guy’?” Jack reads, laughing. “‘Always kind of talking’? ‘Always kind of the centre of attention’? Wow, what a stellar review.”
Connor laughs along with him. “Hey, they asked what you were like,” he responds.
“‘I definitely enjoyed my time with him’,” Jack continues, voice softening. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Connor says, quieter this time. “Always.”
“I – ” Jack obviously doesn’t really know what to say here, and Connor is content to let the moment stretch out between them, taut with some kind of strangely comfortable tension.
Their food comes, breaking the silence, and Connor makes the appropriate noises about the deliciousness of the food, but in all honesty he can barely taste it. He’s too busy staring at Jack’s freckles and the way he licks sauce off his fingers.
“Hey. Hey. McDavid. Connor. Earth to McJesus.” Jack snaps his fingers in front of Connor’s nose, startling him out of his reverie. When Connor blinks in surprise at him, Jack’s voice softens and he adds, “You okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Connor responds, turning back to his food. “Just – thinking about shit, y’know?”
“Anything you want to talk about?” Because Jack has a media façade and apparently also a “friends” façade, because the Jack Eichel Connor used to think he knew back before the draft would never have asked anyone if they wanted to talk. Not even Hanifin.
Probably.
But Connor would probably die of mortification if he actually told Jack what he was thinking about, especially since there’s a spot of sauce on Jack’s chin and all Connor can think about is licking it off. “It’s nothing,” he says. “Thank you, though.”
Jack finishes another wing, wiping that smudge off his face, and grins. “So anyways, did I ever tell you about the time Reino went to Walmart when he was drunk off his ass and blew like a thousand dollars?”
“Hey,” Jack says quietly when they pull into the hotel’s parking lot, pausing the music. “Mind if we – park for a moment?”
“Yeah, sure,” Connor says, confused but willing to roll with it. Once Jack’s parked and turned off the ignition, he unbuckles, turns to Jack and asks, “What’s up?”
Jack sighs. “This – I – thanks for letting me take you out to dinner, I guess. I had a great time.”
“I’m glad I could bless you with my presence,” Connor says, grinning. Then, because he hates himself, he points out, “You didn’t – take me out, though. It wasn’t a date. We just – got dinner together.”
Jack mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “would’ve been nice if it was” but Connor really isn’t willing to take that chance, so he ascribes it to wishful thinking.
He also really doesn’t want to get out of Jack’s car, though. It feels – safe, somehow, like everything outside waiting for him, pressuring him, can’t reach him while he’s sitting in companionable silence with Jack Eichel. And when he looks over at Jack, the lights of the passing cars fly over his face and play off his hair and make him look ethereal, and Connor –
Connor wants to kiss him.
(Okay, fine, Connor always wants to kiss Jack now, but now? Now he can’t think about anything else, caught up in the barely-visible fan of Jack’s lashes and the bow of his lips and how much he wants.)
Suddenly he notices that Jack’s been watching him this entire time, and he thinks that – maybe – he seems some of what he’s feeling in Jack’s eyes. And he doesn’t want to say anything about it, because what if he’s wrong, but his traitorous lungs decide to breathe out a “Hey”.
Jack says something at the exact same time, maybe “So” or “Well” or another superficially-meaningless word, but it doesn’t really matter because they both burst into laughter a second later, the moment broken.
And Connor thinks that – that maybe this is it, that Jack’s going to turn the engine back on and go drop Connor off at the loop and that will be that, and there’s something inside him that rebels at the very idea of leaving Jack again like this, everything unspoken. But – but it’ll be fine, he thinks as they calm down, reduced again to dopey dumbass smiles.
Then Jack sighs, mutters “Fuck this shit”, and unbuckles his seatbelt. Before Connor can tell what’s happening, Jack’s leaned over the centre console and –
and is kissing him.
One arm tight around Connor’s shoulders, the other one cupping his face, and Connor could melt.
But by the time his shocked brain has finally processed all of this, Jack is pulling back, and Connor already misses the weight of his arm. He grabs blindly at Jack’s hand before he can get too far away. “No, please – c’mere – ” he stutters out, before pulling Jack back into him – or himself into Jack – it doesn’t matter.
They fall together like gravity this time, drawn to each other and feeling the weight in the way Jack sucks at Connor’s lip, the small sound Jack makes when Connor works a hand into his hair, the desperation with which they’re clutching at each other, trying to get as close as possible.
And it’s not perfect, the gear shift digging into Connor’s thigh and the awkward angle straining his back, but it’s also everything he could ever want. Jack is warm, his lips are soft, and his fingers are scrabbling at Connor’s dress shirt, trying to untuck it. Just the thought of skin against skin sends shivers down Connor’s spine.
They break eventually, but it’s not a sure thing, Jack darting in to kiss Connor again like he can’t help it. When they finally stop, lips tingling and hearts racing, Jack rests his forehead on Connor’s, still cupping Connor’s cheek.
He leans into the touch. “I didn’t – I didn’t think – ” he says in disbelief.
Jack smiles, and it’s stupidly charming. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
And Connor can’t help himself, pressing back into Jack’s mouth again, because now he’s allowed. He’s allowed, and Jack is solid and real and here, not just a name at the top of his phone screen or a voice at the other end of the line, and Connor wants to be lost in this moment forever.
He can’t, though, and that hurts more than anything else. He tastes the lingering sweetness of Jack’s Diet Coke on his tongue and feels the breath stolen from his lungs, and he doesn’t know how he’d ever let this go.
But he has to when his phone alarm goes off, telling them that his curfew is fast approaching. It’s so hard to tear himself away from Jack, though, when Jack’s lips are so red and kiss-bitten and inviting and who knows the next time they’ll see each other.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Jack whispers, breath ghosting across Connor’s lips.
“Yeah,” Connor agrees shakily. “Yeah, okay.”
He kisses Jack again, one last time, and then forces himself to open the car door and get out, refusing to look back. If he did, he’s not sure if he could still make himself leave.
“– so dumb, Jack, Jesus Christ, why did you ever think this was a good idea?”
“We’re in fucking Aruba,” Jack says, sticking his head out of the bathroom. “No one’s going to recognise us. It’s going to be fine.”
“What if they do?” Connor demands, almost hysterical.
Jack sighs and puts his comb down, reeling Connor in with his other hand. Connor goes willingly, tucking himself into Jack’s side like he belongs there (because he does). “Then they do. We’ve got a plan, remember?”
“Yeah, but – ” Connor starts, before turning to bury his face in Jack’s shoulder. “I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re not gonna lose me,” Jack says firmly. “No matter how hard it gets. I just – I just want to hold your hand in public, okay? And if we can do that here, I’m going to do it here.”
Connor can’t find his words. The only thing left for him to do is kiss Jack, so he does, backing him into the bathroom counter. It’s familiar, now, but the way Jack’s tongue feels against his is not something he’ll ever get tired of.
“I love you,” he says, and it’s the first time he’s ever said it to Jack.
“I love you,” he says again, and it feels like a revelation.
“I love you,” he says a third time, and it’s something he’s always known.
Jack says “I love you too,” breathes it into his mouth and speaks it with his lips and hands and body.
They lose track of time like that, pressed up against the bathroom counter and lazily making out, but it’s all good. It’s all good, because it’s the offseason and they’ve got time, and they love each other and that’s –
It’s all that matters.
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