#or you had a player traded to the canucks

[seedlessmuffins]

the combination anti-canada and anti-west coast biases in the nhl combine to make the canucks, and therefore canucks players, to be criminally overlooked by hockey writers, analysts, and influencers but we aren't ready for that conversation.

[atwhughesversion]

🥲<3

[sc0tters]

Wanna Bet | Quinn Hughes

summary: when Quinn tries to put you in your place it lands him in your sheets.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, oral (fem receiving!), p in v, swearing, choking.

word count: 2.51k

authors note: okay I liked this smut like way more than the Luke one from this morning. Quinn with enemies to lovers is something I don’t remember writing before but this was fun so we are gonna allow it.

Seeing Quinn always felt weird to you.

Since the moment you joined the Canucks you two just didn’t seem to get on, the constant bickering was enough to make anyone want to avoid you both. So eventually you both just accepted the fact that you were destined to be colleagues who tolerated each other. It was a silent yet assumed to be mutual agreement.

Yet it seemed that Quinn felt like testing that agreement as you were walking to your car as you were only meant to be working during the first groups practice session. Quinn had been apart of it and with what felt like the worst practice of his life especially after getting the C when you started asking him questions about his performance it only felt like a twist of the knife.

Quinn swore he was seeing red as he was hot on your tail “what the hell was that today y/n?” He spat as the door to the rink shut behind him.

You two were the only ones in the parking lot as you sighed “Quinn I did my job-” you spun around to explain it to him when you realised just how close he was to you.

The hockey player sent you a glare “your job is not to make me look like an idiot.” He pointed out crossing his arms that tightened as he was still in his compression shirt due to the rush he was in to get to you “don’t need to do that when you seem to do it all by yourself.” You flashed him a sarcastic smile as you turned back to your car where your face quickly dropped to a frown.

Quinn furrowed his eyes seeing that you had stopped “you forgotten how to walk to your car or something now?” The boy smirked “forgot to plug my car in.” You pointed out as you walked over to the plug your car into its charging station.

He couldn’t help but laugh “c’mon,” the hockey player motioned to you to follow him “you think I’m going home with you then you’ve got another thing coming Hughes.” Your eyes formed a glare as he walked over to you “princess I hate to be the one to tell you that it’s starting to rain so without me you’re shit out of luck right now.” Quinn’s harsh words made you look up at the sky to see the grey clouds that loomed over Vancouver.

Against your better judgement you nodded “where is your car?” You asked avoiding his smirk not wanting to see him win.

The drive back to your place had been awkward to put it lightly “you know you interviewing me like that was fucked up.” Quinn spoke as you stared at the traffic lights that illuminated a red glow in front of you “Quinn if you can’t handle the truth from me then maybe you need a reality check.” Your words were honest as you pointed your finger at him.

It made the boy scowl “I’m starting to see why Tito turned you down.” The Hughes boy mumbled as he started driving again “what happened between him and I is none of you business!” You groaned as you had helped the Canadian settle into the team when he got traded, and one night he ended up in your bed. The same thing happened twice more before you both agreed to simply be friends.

Quinn took your irritated state as an encouragement to go on “that must have been a bad night for him.” The boy continued driving on as the light changed to green “please I was a great fuck!” You blurted out no longer caring about your desire to have a filter “if anything I feel sorry for the girls that you sleep with.” Your words made the boy tense up as he turned to your apartment building “in fact I don’t think you could even make a girl come.” If you knew the response your words would get then maybe you wouldn’t have said it.

His knuckles turned white against the steering wheel as he gripped at it “don’t think you’re ready to eat your words.” Quinn confessed as you leaned against the centre console “I think you’re not ready to see that I’m right.” The car almost crashed as the boy kissed your lips.

It was strong as he brought his hand behind your head making sure that you couldn’t pull away “where do I park princess?” The boy asked as a hoot car from the car behind his “just up here.” Your cheeks turned pink as you could still feel his lips against yours.

He slipped his arm through your bags strap as he smiled watching you direct him to the elevator “who would have thought that the way to get you quiet is just by kissing ya?” Quinn cocked his head as your back was pressed against the elevator wall after you pressed the floor number “shut up,” you grumbled placing your hands on his cheeks as you pulled him into a kiss. His tongue danced over your lip as you moaned letting him slide it into your mouth “sorry,” a voice came from the doors as someone let out an awkward cough. You sent the guy a smile as Quinn pulled away from you. Thankfully you only had to stand there for a mere few minutes before you two got to your floor.

Your apartment door called your name as you dug into your purse to grab your keys when Quinn’s hands went to your waist “Quinn behave.” You pleaded as you felt his head drop to your neck “have I ever told you how much I love this skirt?” Quinn asked letting his lips nip at your neck as his fingers trailed over the shirt skirt “n-no,” you shook your head as you finally got the door open.

The two of you barely got into the apartment before he spun you around “want to see me make you come?” The hockey player smirked as he pushed your body against your door shutting it behind you “don’t think you could.” You tried to remain calm.

Quinn let his lips hover over yours “was gonna take you to your bed.” He confessed as he clicked his tongue “but now I’m going to make you come right here.” Your eyes went wide watching him drop to his knees “like to see you t-try.” Your palms grew sweaty as the hockey player pulled your skirt up revealing your white panties.

He let out a whistle hooking his fingers in either side of your panties “think you knew that you were gonna get fucked tonight.” Quinn pointed out as he let your panties slide down your legs “told Tito to come o-” your words were cut off as Quinn lay his tongue flat against your slit licking a straight line before he practically pecked your clit “not so talkative now are you?” The hockey player smirked setting his tongue back on your clit as he let his two fingers thrust into your cunt.

Your hand slapped over your mouth as the boy comfortably found himself between your legs “let me hear you princess.” Quinn’s words sent shivers up your spine as you looked down to nod.

If you didn’t know any better you would have sworn that he was a starved man as he let his tongue work on you like you were his last meal “shit Quinn.” You groaned forcing your hips further into his face as your head pushed against the wood of your door.

Quinn left his pants grow tight at the sheer squelching noise that left your core as his fingers formed his scissoring motion as they thrusted deeper into you “you want to come princess?” He asked using his free thumb to rub against your clit “c’mon I know you want to just let it go.” With that the hockey player brought his lips back to your clit finally setting you over the edge “don’t stop.” You cried out as your fingers locked into his hair as you rode his face feeling him smile beneath you.

The hockey player pulled his fingers out from your core watching how they shone begin covered in your juices “taste how sweet you are princess.” Quinn ordered bringing himself back up to his feet as he tapped his fingers on your lips “pretty good for a guy that can’t make you come huh?” The boy smirked as your tongue swirled around his fingers like it was his cock in your mouth.

When you moaned it made him realise that his pants could no longer take simply watching you “where is your bedroom?” Quinn asked furrowing his eyebrows as he picked your panties off of the ground shoving them into his sweatpants pocket “you can get those back if you are good in bed.” The boy reminded you about the claim that you had yet to make good on.

You giggled beginning your walk to your room as you slowly began to shed your clothing starting with the Canucks polo that you were sporting revealing your black bra “you’re playing a dangerous game princess.” Quinn warned as you sent him an innocent grin “what are you going to do about that?” You clicked your tongue as you slipped behind your bedroom door pulling the skirt off of your legs as you were left in nothing but your bra when he came into the room.

Quinn took in the sight of your gorgeous body as he smiled eyes meeting yours “isn’t fair that you’re in so little is it now?” His voice was soft as your fingers danced over his compression shirt “leaves little to the imagination.” You pointed out shaking your head “knew you liked looking at me in this.” The hockey player lightly pushed you onto your bed as he pulled his shirt over his shoulders revealing his abs that made your mouth water “like what you see?” Quinn teased as he repeated the same action with his sweatpants leaving himself in his boxers.

Your eyes were practically glued to the bulge i that was barely hidden by the material “think you do too.” You teased as you watched him grab a condom from his wallet before he came down onto your bed with you “you’re taking your time cap.” You pointed out as you smirked seeing his expression harden.

What you didn’t expect was that he would flip you over causing your face to land in the fluffy blanket that sat on your bed “fuck princess I wanted to fuck you good but I guess I’m gonna have to fuck you like the brat you are.” Quinn grunted reaching down to break the clip in your bra letting your breasts hang free.

A whimper left your lips as you heard the sound of the condom wrapper ripping behind you “please Quinn.” You begged waiting to feel him against you.

Quinn smirked “you know that you aren’t calling me that anymore.” Before the hockey player gave you a chance to respond his cock was running over your clit before he let it thrust into your cunt.

Your hands could barely keep your body up as you adjusted to his size “Jesus cap!” You groaned letting your head drop into the mattress.

His hands grabbed at your hips bringing your body back to meet each of his thrusts “god princess you’re so right.” Quinn let out a grunt as he watched how your cunt repeatedly swallowed his cock as he made sure to bottom you out.

All you could do was nod as your hands grabbed at the comforter beneath you “shit Quinn.” You moaned as you began grinding your hips against him when the boy brought his hand down to slap your ass.

The gesture made you jump “you know that’s not what you’re calling me tonight.” The boy mumbled increasing the pace of his thrusts “you got a captains kink huh cap?” You asked letting your head turn to look at him as you smirked “get all hot thinking about me-” you were cut off as a moan left your lips “calling you cap when you fuck me?” You got your words out before he slapped your ass again.

Quinn felt his breath waiver as you clenched around his cock “should be finding a way to get you to keep quiet before you start running that fucking mouth.” With one movement he leaned down picking your body up “guess I’ve got to take matters into my own hands.” His words vibrated in the shell of your ear as his hand wrapped around your throat bringing you flushed against his torso.

The angle caused the boys cock to slide deeper into your cunt and that combined with the decreasing blood flow to your brain meant that you were overwhelmed with pleasure “fuck cap.” You cried bringing your hand down to rub at your clit as your head lay against his shoulder.

He took it as encouragement to go faster as your pussy began clenching around his cock more frequently “I’m gonna come,” you announced not seeing him shake his head “fucking beg for it.”

His order rang through your ears as you forced your eyes open “please let me come cap, I need you.” You pleaded almost having tears from in your eyes as you feared him saying no.

Quinn felt his cock throb “I’ll be your good little girl.” You added making him laugh “think you are already that baby.” The hockey player pointed out as he pressed a kiss to your temple “got you right where I want you right now and you can’t do shit about it.” His reminder made your cunt clamp down on his cock.

The boys hand squeezed around your throat “let me hear you go.” He smiled as you let out a min forcing your fingers to go even faster on your clit.

Your orgasm caused your body to shake against him “fuck fuck fuck!’ You cried not realising that your actions spurred on his own orgasm “so good princess.” Quinn cooed as he coated the inside of the condom with his come.

As his hand released your throat your body came down onto your bed as you let out a large breath “was I too rough?” He asked letting his cock slide out of your soaked cunt.

Quinn lay next to you as he watched you look up to him with a smile “not that was hot.” You blurted out leaning up to grab a hoodie off of your floor “where do you think you’re going?” The hockey player furrowed his eyebrows.

You turned to him with a smirk “I’ve got to go pick up my car.” You explained as to your surprise he shook his head reaching out for your hands as he pulled you back onto your bed “we aren’t done just yet.” Quinn mumbled cupping your face in his hands as he kissed you.

Clearly you were in for a long afternoon.

[nhlclover]

goodnight n go | quinn hughes

summary: when your best friend begins to act distant you wonder if your harboured feelings have become exposed.

request: yes / no

warnings: angst, cursing

a/n: somewhat based on ‘goodnight n go’ by ariana grande. quinn looks so boyfriend in this gif

word count: 1.7k

It’s been 5 years since you watched your best friend get drafted by Vancouver. It was a dream come true for everyone. You watched from the sidelines as he played at Michigan, setting records for defensemen there, then as he started his professional career.

You’d accepted that you wouldn’t see him during the winter months, and you were okay with it. With you being from out of state, you only really saw Quinn during the summers at the lake house in Michigan.

Over time and the more you and Quinn got older, the more you realized what you once thought was just a schoolyard crush became something more intense.

You decided before the season finished that you were going to finally tell Quinn how you felt. You confided in Jack about your feelings, with the middle Hughes encouraging you to tell his brother how you felt.

However, from the moment he arrived at the lake house, you could tell something was off.

Quinn was quieter than normal. You’d wondered if it was because of the less-than-desirable season the Canucks had. They just barely escaped the bottom ten in the league and had traded away one of their best players. The season had taken a toll on Quinn and you could tell. But you were unsure if that was the whole reason.

Normally he would find solace in you, but you’d barely been able to hold a conversation with Quinn for more than a minute. Nothing seemed to get him to talk to you and you couldn’t figure out why. Part of you wondered if you’d somehow let on about your feelings towards him.

What if Quinn knew you liked him and he didn’t reciprocate the feelings, so he was distancing himself on purpose?

It was driving you nuts not knowing why your best friend wasn’t talking to you. You could barely hold him in a conversation for more than a minute before he would excuse himself, and he would barely acknowledge you in group conversations.

When you tried to ask Quinn if he still wanted to do your annual sunrise swim, something you’d done every year since you were twelve, he told you that he wasn’t really feeling up to it and then locked himself in his room for the next hour.

The entire week was like that. An attempt at conversation on your part was consistently met with a one-word answer and Quinn walking away.

Now you were watching Quinn say goodbye as he was going back to Vancouver early for pre-season.

Quinn hugged his mom and dad, then Jack before turning to you and your family. You watch him shake your father's hand before hugging your mother. He turns to you, seemingly holding his breath.

“I’ll uh… see you around.” He says.

You freeze, caught up in a mixture of confusion, disbelief, anger, and a little bit of embarrassment at the goodbye your best friend gave you.

Quinn picks up his bag, heading out the front door to where Luke is waiting in the car. The eyes of your family and the Hughes were on you. You could only bear to look at Jack, who raised his eyebrows, hinting at you to go after him.

You walk out behind Quinn, watching him walk to Luke’s car waiting in the driveway. “What the fuck?” You scream.

Quinn turns to you, a pained expression on his face. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you.

“You come home, it’s my first time seeing you in almost a year after you ghost me for half of it, and then you don’t fucking speak to me the entire time.” You yell. You don’t care if the rest can hear you from inside or if Luke can hear what you’re saying. Every sentiment from the past week is bubbling up inside you now spilling out. “And now you don’t even hug me goodbye? 16 years of friendship and all I get is ‘see you around’?”

Quinn doesn’t offer an immediate reply, instead looking down at his shoes. You storm over, shoving the tall brunette boy by his shoulders. He stumbles backwards, dropping his duffle to the ground. “Y/n.” He says. His tone isn’t angry. It’s soft and almost remorseful.

“Don’t ‘y/n’ me.” You sneer, tears balancing on your bottom lashes. “Talk to me! Say something!”

“I don’t want to do this.” He says, grabbing the bag from the ground. He walks to the car, throwing the bag into the backseat.

“Fine.” You say, defeated. “Walk away. You’re a coward.”

He sighs, looking up at the sky. “Y/n.”

“No fucking go. You clearly don’t want to be friends or whatever the fuck we were so go.” You say, wiping away the tears streaming down your face.

Quinn’s expression changes, his eyebrows furrowing. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. “No! Just…” Your voice falters. “Go, Quinn. Please.”

He huffs, getting in the passenger seat. You watch Quinn and Luke discuss something quickly before the engine turns on and the car backs out of the driveway.

Your chest heaves with sobs as you run back into the house, past yours and Quinn’s families and up to your childhood bedroom. Walls lined with photos of Quinn and you from when you were in diapers to just last year, sitting by the campfire drinking beers. You let sobs rack your body as memories of your friendship from over the years flood your mind.

A soft knock on the door pauses your cries. The door clicks open and Jack's head pokes in. “Y/n?” He says softly.

You stick your head out from under your comforter, giving Jack a view of your red and puffy eyes, with tear-stained cheeks. He slipped in and shut the door behind him, lying down next to you.

“I’m sorry.” He says. You roll over, curling into his side.

“I just don’t understand.” You say.

“I don’t either, honestly,” Jack says.

“Does he not talk to you?” You asked.

Jack sighs. “It’s Quinn, remember? He doesn’t tell us much.”

Jack looks over at your face before laughing lightly. He grabs a tissue from the box on your side table, handing it to you. “You’ve got mascara and snot all over your face.” He says.

You give his shoulder a light shove, taking the tissue and wiping it around your eyes. Jack gets up from beside you, looking out the window that overlooks the front yard. You toss the tissue in the wastebasket, looking at Jack, who’s got a grin on his face.

“What are you looking at?” You ask him.

“Go downstairs.” He says, closing your curtains.

“What?”

“Go downstairs! Quickly!”

Jack yanks the blankets off you, pulling you up. You look back at Jack as you hear the sound of the front door opening and then clicking shut. He simply grins, shoving you towards the staircase. You walk down the stairs and to the front entrance, where you see Luke taking off his shoes.

“Luke?” You ask. It hasn’t been more than 15 minutes since he and Quinn had gone to the airport, even though the airport’s almost half an hour away.

“He’s outside, please don’t put me in this again.” He says, walking to the living room.

You walk outside seeing Quinn, standing on the walkway. His bag is by his feet, a nervous air surrounding him. “Why are you here?” You ask.

“I couldn’t go.” He says. His eyes are pained but there’s a small smile on his face.

“What?” You asked.

Quinn steps forward, his wide stride stopping him right before you. “I fucked up. Big time, believe me, I know.” He says. “I was so scared to tell you how I felt in fear of ruining this…us. I mean we’re Quinn and y/n. We’re supposed to be best friends till the end, right?”

Quinn’s words confuse you, not understanding where his sudden change of attitude came from or what point he was trying to make.

“What are you saying, Quinn?” You ask.

“I think I’m in love with you.” He says.

Your heart pounds against your rib cage, heat rising to your cheeks. The words you’ve been wanting to hear from your best friend's mouth for years.

“And I don’t even know if you feel the same, but I can’t leave knowing you didn’t know,” Quinn says. “I love you, y/n, and I have for years.”

Your instincts drive you and suddenly your hands are on his face, your lips pressed together. It takes a second for Quinn to recognize what is happening but when he does, his hands are on your sides. His stubble scratches your chin slightly, but you don’t mind. He pulls you into him, deepening the kiss.

You pull back suddenly, stepping out of Quinn’s grasp. “Wait.” You say. “I don’t understand, you have been a dick to me this entire week. Why?”

“I was scared, y/n.” He says. “I’ve had a crush on you since we were sixteen. I thought I was over you, finally, but when I saw you last summer, I realized I was more in love with you than I’d ever been. I didn’t think you felt the same and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I was so scared of losing you if you didn’t feel the same, that I just assumed cutting you out of my life was easier.”

“Why would you ever think that was the easiest option?” You ask, throwing your hands up.

“I don’t know! I… I don’t know.” He says, defeated. He hangs his head, looking down at his shoes.

You sigh at Quinn’s mild stupidity. You place a hand under his chin, forcing him to look up at you. His soft eyes are the same as when you were 9 and you had dared Quinn to kiss you, only to run when he tried.

“Not having you in my life is the last thing I ever want to happen. I don’t care if we hate each other's guts. All I need is to have your eyes in my life.” You say.

Quinn scoops you up, holding your body against his. His lips crash into yours, desperate to share your air. Your arms wrap around his neck, your toes just barely touching the ground. You’re tentative and careful, just lightly brushing your lips against his. Quinn leans in further, needing your lips on his.

The living room window being cracked open releases the squeals of your mothers, happy to see the two of you finally realizing what the rest of them realized when you were just kids.

[sergeifyodorov]

Which active players do u think will have their jerseys in the rafters after they retire? This might be tricky bc of course they could get traded at any moment but I wanna hear ur thoughts!

mwah oh this is such a good q... for me the answer to this is distinct from like, active hall of famers being that in order to get your number retired you have to be relevant to a specific team... like u can be one without the other. anywho here's my attempt

boston bruins: patrice (37) hasn't had his retired yet but he will, even though he's not active anymore. pasta (88) also a lock, marchand (63) a significant probability

buffalo sabres: n/a

detroit red wings: larkin (71) is still pretty young but he's the only one id consider right now

florida panthers: barkov (16) for sure, tkachuk (19) very probably, bobrovsky (72) slim but nonzero chance

montreal canadiens: carey price (31), in the same vein as patrice

ottawa senators: n/a

tampa bay lightning: kuch (86), vasi (88), stamkos (91), and heddy (77). god the bolts dynasty years were really fuckin something eh

toronto maple leafs: auston (34) is a lock, willy (88) almost certainly a lock, mitch (16) will be a lock if he stays after this contract, morgan (44) is a solid 50-50

carolina hurricanes: n/a

columbus blue jackets: timely ask because it NEEDS to be matiss kivlenieks (80) and im lowkey shocked they haven't done that yet

new jersey devils: n/a

new york islanders: n/a

new york rangers: very very slim chance of kreider (20) but idk

philadelphia flyers: maybe giroux (28)?

pittsburgh penguins: lol and lmao obviously sid (87) geno (71) and kris (58)

washington capitals: ovi (8) and nicke (19)

coyotes/utah: n/a

chicago blackhawks: kane (88) and toews (19) 100%. idk do keith and seabrook already have their numbers retired bc if not then maybe one of them too

colorado avalanche: natemac (29). makar (8) probably too idk

dallas stars: n/a

nashville predators: maybe josi (59)?.maybe.

minnesota wild: n/a

st louis blues: n/a

winnipeg jets: n/a

anaheim ducks: n/a

calgary flames: n/a

edmonton oilers: obviously cmd (97) and leo (29). slim but nonzero chance of nuge (93)

la kings: kopi (11) and doughty (8)

seattle kraken: n/a

san jose sharks: maybe pavs (16)

vancouver canucks: solid chance of quinnifer (43)

vegas golden knights: n/a

[stereax]

☕️ things you think the nhl genuinely does well for their players? And/or things you wish could/would change in the org?

I think, to start, you need to overhaul how player safety works. The lack of consequences for players is nuts. Repeat offenders need to be penalized appropriately. You can't let dangerous players like Matt Rempe continue to be the poster children for CTE.

Player assistance - I'm not sure how effective this is. We've had players like Valeri Nichushkin fail it; we've had former players like Scott Darling deride it. We've also had players like Spencer Knight and Connor Ingram who've cited the help they get from it as crucial to their mental health.

THE MEDICAL STAFF. Oh my god the medical teams are AWFUL in the NHL. I know it's the standard to play through injuries but holy fuck. On the Devils alone we had three cases of medical staff failing to spot a concussion or other major injury after a head hit and letting players continue to play for several more shifts before pulling them. You hear actual horror stories annually of players saying "oh, I messed up my shoulder in game 4 and played with it the entire season" (Tim Stutzle) or "oh, my knee's been fucked since January, sorry for not putting up more points" (Elias Pettersson) or "oh, I played a playoff game with a broken sternum and I couldn't even dress myself, so if I got hit there, there's a chance I could have died" (Matthew Tkachuk). We're seeing that players who prioritize their health, who sit out to recover instead of pushing their bodies (think Sidney Crosby here) are able to continue playing at a high level past 35, when previously this was considered too old to be a top talent NHL player.

Tying into that, LTIR. Teams need to be incentivized to use LTIR so that their stars can heal, goddamn it. You tell me "close the cap circumvention loopholes", I reply "I'd prefer if players are playing healthy and not forced to play while hurt, and LTIR is a major step in allowing players to heal without penalizing a team for their injuries". I don't know why it's a buzz topic now that teams like Vegas are "abusing LTIR" - good??? Every team in the league should "abuse LTIR" if it means helping to preserve the quality of life for its players down the line??? Why is this controversial???

But also - players who are definitely not coming back to play in the NHL (think Shea Weber, Carey Price, Nicklas Backstrom) should have the ability to retire without losing out on the final years of their contract while not penalizing the teams with them on their roster. Currently, these players undergo "LTIRetirement", a process where they're stashed on the LTIR until their contract is up, at which point they officially retire. This not only disadvantages the teams carrying these contracts but also puts unnecessary burdens on these players. Think how the 2018 WJC perpetrators were considered "NHL non-roster", effectively having no cap hit, and do something similar for LTIRetirement.

Just... eugh, I really wish some fundamentals about hockey culture and the culture of injury were changed. Every time I hear about how a player is trying to regain day-to-day functioning after an injury (go read up on Tanner Pearson's hand injuries and how the Canucks bungled the surgeries), part of me dies inside. Jack Eichel literally had to force his own trade out of his team because the Sabres weren't willing to give him medical autonomy. Which is another thing - the player should ALWAYS have final say in their injury treatment, not the teams. Whoever decided that... I'm shaking my fist.

[laurenairay]

we’re lost and found - A. Beauvillier

Summary: “It’s always going to be you, Bells.”

One visit to Vancouver changes everything for the friendship of Anthony Beauvillier and Isabella Thornton.

A/N: This is my entry for @wyattjohnston​‘s birthday bingo!! I really hope you enjoy this Demi – I cycled through various combinations and players before I was happy with the following for Beau: trade angst, friends to lovers, playlists as a love language, “it’s always going to be you”, the morning after the night before. I haven’t written a full fic for Beau before so this was a fun challenge! And yes, I fudged the last game in the Canucks schedule for creative licensing. Happy birthday my dear 💛

Title from Wings, by Birdy. Here is the final playlist mentioned in the story. 

Words: 14k

Warnings: angst, miscommunication, sappy sweetness, idiots in love.

Thank you @cellythefloshie​ for being the most amazing beta and cheerleader while I was writing this!

*

“Cabin crew, prepare for landing. Ladies and gentlemen, we will shortly be arriving in Vancouver. Please ensure all hand luggage is stowed, tray tables are folded away, and your seatbelts are fastened.”

Even as her stomach swooped with the slow descent of the airplane, Isabella couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. She’d been up since the crack of dawn. Her first flight from JFK airport leaving at 7am, and with the layover stop in Seattle lasting one and a half hours, she was more than ready to be done with travelling for the day. It wasn’t that Isabella disliked flying though – she just wanted to be on solid ground. This trip was to be a mixture of business and pleasure; her work wanted her to go to an industry conference to support a couple of the Sales guys giving speeches, her marketing role allowing her that first-hand experience; the conference was scheduled from Tuesday 11th April to Thursday 13th April, but she had decided to fly in on the Saturday before, also taking a vacation day either side of the conference, to extend her time in Vancouver.

Why? Because one of her closest friends had moved from New York to Vancouver only a couple of months ago, and she missed him more than words could describe. It seemed like he felt the same way, because the moment Isabella had mentioned the conference and that she was able to take a couple of vacation days around it, he’d immediately offered for her to stay at his apartment, giving them the time to catch-up, to spend the time together like they hadn’t been able to in so long.

There was no universe in which she would ever say no to Anthony Beauvillier.

So here she was, Saturday 8th April, ready to spend some time with one of the most important people in her life. Soon enough the plane landed and made its way to the gate, allowing everyone to exit. Thankfully Isabella’s suitcase arrived quickly and her journey through security was smooth, so in no time at all she was walking out into the arrivals hall, eyes scanning the crowd of people.

And then she spotted him.

The moment Anthony noticed her too, smile spreading wide across his face, it felt like a breath of fresh air. Finally. Isabella wasted no time in rushing over to him, dropping her suitcase to throw her arms over his shoulders, Anthony hugging her just as tightly too. It was all she could do to bury her face in his neck, breathing in that familiar cologne as well as the scent that was just Anthony himself while he buried his face in her long dark hair.

She’d missed him. She’d missed him so much. Talking to him over the phone just wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t even close to replacing what it felt like to see and hold him in person. After what felt like eternity and yet somehow not long enough, she let him go, dropping her arms from around his neck, taking a single step backwards to look him up and down.

“Damn, you look good Beau! West-Coast Canadian air clearly does wonders for you,” she grinned, hamming up the compliments to make him squirm just as she liked.

A familiar light flush dusted his cheeks as he shook his head fondly. “Says the New York fashionista gracing us with her presence.”

Her tanned cheeks flushed too at his compliment, but she just laughed and batted at his chest before picking up her suitcase from where it had fallen on the floor. Flattery would always work with her and he knew it.

“I missed you,” Anthony said suddenly, smiling softly as he took the suitcase without saying a word.

Such a sweetheart.

“I missed you too. 10 weeks without you and my life is poorer for it,” Isabella said with a dramatic sigh.

Anthony blushed heavily this time, ducking his gaze, making her smile as she laughed. So cute.

“I know I’m mainly here for work, really, but I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my time with you,” she said, threading her arm through his.

“Me too. You’re going to have a great time, I promise.”

She knew she would, even just by being in his company, but she didn’t need to say that out loud.

With her arm still linked with his, Anthony guided her back to where he’d parked his car, lifting her suitcase into the trunk like the gentleman he was.

“Thank you for the new playlist for my flight, by the way,” Isabella said, wiggling her phone to show what she meant as she got into the front passenger seat.

“No problem, Bells, you know that. It’s our thing, right? It’s not like I could let you travel out here for the first time without a new list to listen to,” Anthony shrugged, starting the engine.

From the small smile on his lips, she knew he was far from nonchalant. He was right too – making playlists for each other really was their thing. When she’d started hanging out with him and Mat and some of the other Isles boys, Isabella and Anthony had bonded over their shared love of music, sharing recommendations on Spotify almost immediately. Making playlists started with creating background music for parties held at their various apartments, but, for whatever reason, over time it grew into the two of them making playlists just for each other. She’d lost count of the number of playlists she’d made him for his long travels on the road, and the amount of study playlists he’d made for her were in the dozes over all her college years. Then there were birthdays, holidays, vacations abroad as a group, and just general ‘you seem down, let me cheer you up’ playlists.

Making playlists for each other was something that Isabella and Anthony had made into something that was just theirs, and she treasured it.

“I loved the Twenty One Pilots songs you chose,” she said, smiling.

“Catchy, right?” Anthony mused, “I wasn’t sure about those Bastille songs though.”

The vibes of these playlists of important, they both knew that. But like always, he’d nailed it.

“They were perfect. The whole list was great, I promise,” Isabella insisted.

This time, his pleased smile shone through. She loved that he loved putting together all these songs just for her – the same way that she loved doing it for him. Was it wrong to cherish something with him that was hers and hers alone?

The drive to Anthony’s apartment felt like it flew by as they continued to talk about the music they’d both been listening to lately, and soon enough she was walking through the front door of his apartment.

“We’ve got a couple of hours before I need to leave for the arena and then you’ll still have a few hours before you should leave to head down too, so plenty of time for you to settle into the guest room and unpack your stuff. I’ve got a fabric steamer if you need them for your conference clothes?” Anthony explained, locking the front door behind them.

The thought he put into everything was astounding.

“I probably will need to steam out some creases at some point,” she mused, thinking of the three blazers she’d packed, “But that can wait until Monday night. How about you give me a tour?”

There was no way she wanted to think about anything to do with work until she absolutely had to. The next couple of days were all about relaxing. Sure, Anthony would be flying out for two games in California tomorrow, but that just meant she wanted to make the most of the time she had with him.

As he showed her around the two-bed apartment, Isabella could admit that it was pretty sparse. At least compared to the apartment he had in New York – but he’d only been here just over two months, so she knew she couldn’t expect him to have fully settled in yet. She could only hope that he was going to give himself the chance to settle in properly, especially since the Canucks season was technically over.

Sure, they still had four games left to play, including tonight’s, but mathematically they were already out of the playoffs. Isabella could only imagine how that felt for him. It was something that they hadn’t really discussed, if she was being honest. The trade was a sensitive subject in their friendship group, and she hadn’t known how to ask how Anthony felt about it when the trade had first been announced. But she worried about him, being out here all by himself. How could she not?

At least there were elements of his personality in the apartment, a framed poster here, photos of his family there, silly polaroids of their friendship group in New York on the fridge with magnets. It was enough to settle the worst of her concerns, and by the time she’d dumped her bags in the spare bedroom he’d declared was hers for the week, she noticed that the edge of tension had melted away from him too.

“I know it’s not much yet but…”

“But nothing, Beau,” Isabella interrupted, smiling as she leant against the doorframe, “You’ve only been here a short while – you’ll make this a home in no time.”

“You think?” he asked, his hesitance obvious.

Well that wouldn’t do.

“I know. Now come on, feed me before you need to leave for the game,” she said firmly.

“That’s the Bells I know,” he snickered.

Isabella just laughed at the accuracy – he really did know her - before sticking out her tongue at him and making him laugh. There was the smile she loved.

Isabella took a quick shower while Anthony cooked them lunch, an easy healthy chicken stir fry, and all too soon it was time for him to leave her alone. While she felt a tiny sense of trepidation about being in a new city all by herself, she knew that she only had a little time to kill before she was going to see him again anyway, so she pushed it down as much as she could.

“You’ve got the phone numbers of people at the arena to call if there’s an emergency, right?” Anthony asked, pulling on his suit jacket.

“I can 99% guarantee you that there will be no emergencies in the two hours before I leave here too. But yes I have them – so go, Beau!” Isabella giggled.

He held up his hands in surrender but smiled down at her anyway, kissing her on the cheek before he walked out the door. Isabella sighed softly, fingers rising to brush over the same skin his lips had brushed, smiling fondly. That was a particular tradition she’d missed as well, the casual affection he’d always shown her. She didn’t know if it was a Québécois thing, or just an Anthony thing, but she’d missed it all the same. It was sweet, just like everything he did.

As she settled in on the sofa, she sent out a few text messages to let various people know she’d arrived safely; some of her friends at work, Mat, her mom. She’d fully intended on ignoring the replies, knowing nothing urgent would be coming through, but when she saw 5 notifications from Mat, she opened up their text thread out of curiosity.

~

From: Mat Bells! You made it! Beau has been buzzing all morning. Give him a kiss from me. After he’s kicked some Flames ass obvi.

~

This guy. Isabella rolled her eyes fondly, smiling at the energy she could read even in his words, before biting her bottom lip. Anthony had been buzzing? He hadn’t seemed that way to her – sure, he was happy to see her, all smiles and long hugs, but buzzing? Hm.

~

From: Isabella I’ll pass along your kiss, weirdo. He seemed pretty chill to me?

~

From: Mat That’s because he got all of his crazy energy out by texting me. You know he wants your trip to be amazing. You are going to his game tonight, right?

~

From: Isabella If you say so Barzy. I wouldn’t miss his game for the world.

~

Mat didn’t text back again, so Isabella just chalked down the strange exchange to him missing his friend too. Still…no. Barzy was being Barzy, and that’s all there was to it. The two hours after Anthony left flew by, Isabella just getting herself lost in a good book, and it wasn’t long before she was walking towards her seat in the arena. Along with leaving a new Canucks jersey (with his name on the back, of course) for her in the hall closet, Anthony had left her ticket at will call, which she picked up easily after the uber she took dropped her right out front. Just as she’d requested when he had asked, she was in the bottom tier but at the back – she didn’t want anything ostentatious – and with an overpriced beer in hand, she took her seat.

Right from the start, the game was a nail biter. She cheered at the top of her lungs as Pettersson and McWard scored for the Canucks with all the supporters around her. Only for her to be left wincing when Lindholm and Kadri scored for the Flames in the third period, on the edge of her seat as the game finished out at 2-2. She could see the frustration in the team’s faces, let alone in their body language, and the moment that the shootout started her heart was pounding in her chest.

As soon as Kuzmenko scored the winning goal, Isabella leapt to her feet yelling in celebration with the crowd around her, the biggest smile on her face as the team celebrated on the ice. What a way to end of the game.

There was no rush she’d ever felt like watching a hockey game live in person - and now she was lucky enough to go congratulate her friend face to face rather than over text. Arriving early ahead of her conference really had been such a good idea. Anthony had texted her the instructions for how to get down to the tunnel to wait for him, so she followed those after the stands had emptied out a bit, not wanting to fight through the crowd. At the very least it meant she didn’t have to wait as long in the tunnel by herself, and soon enough Anthony was walking out to meet her, shy smile on his face.

Shy? No, that wouldn’t do.

“Beau! Congratulations!” she said cheerfully, loudly enough to draw a bit of attention to them and to get that familiar blush she loved to see rising on his cheeks.

“You enjoyed it then?” he mused.

There was enough hesitance in his voice to let her know he needed her reassurance, and she wasted no time in hugging him tightly, smiling as he immediately hugged her back.

“I had the best time. Talk about a nail biter!” she laughed, pulling back just far enough to look up at his face, “You know I love watching you play.”

The rosiness of his cheeks let her know that her honesty had been the right thing to say.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Anthony murmured, squeezing her slightly before letting his arms drop.

“Ooh, wait, there’s something I need to give you,” she said quickly, clutching at his hands.

Anthony froze slightly, but made the most interesting gasping noise as she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a big wet smacking kiss on his cheek.

“W-What?”

Isabella just grinned, letting go of him. “That is from Barzy.”

Anthony’s smile seemed to falter slightly before he huffed out a laugh. “Of course. That sounds like him. I’ll have to text him to say thanks.”

Isabella snickered. At least their mutual friend couldn’t say she didn’t pass along his message. That’s what friends were for!

“What’s the plan now then?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“It’s up to you, really. A few of the guys are going out for drinks if you wanted to go too? It’s not going to be a crazy one because we are flying out to LA tomorrow, but it might be fun for you to meet some of the team? But if you’re tired from travelling then we can absolutely just head back to my place,” he explained.

The hopeful look in his eyes made her smile. He really wanted her to meet his new team, didn’t he? He wanted her to like them – it was important to him, she could tell. So there was only one answer she could give.

“Let’s go out for a couple of drinks then! Maybe if jetlag finally hits we could leave early?” she suggested.

She had been awake since 3.30am after all, having left for the airport at 4am. Relaxing for a couple of hours ahead of the adrenaline of the game had helped keep her going, but she knew it would hit her at some point. But meeting his new team was important to Anthony, so she wanted to do what she could, even if it wasn’t her at 100%.

“Perfect. You just let me know whenever and we can head out,” he said firmly.

Such a sweetheart.

In the end, she lasted around two hours before she felt her social battery dipping into dangerously low levels, starting to space out of conversation even though she’d only had two vodka sodas, and in no time at all Anthony was guiding her through the front door of his apartment all over again. His teammates had been so sweet – at least the ones that she’d met tonight – and seeing the smile that all their interactions put on Anthony’s face filled her heart. Even after 10 weeks, it was clear that he’d found a good space for himself here, just as he deserved to and just as she’d hoped. Brock, Petey, Quinn, Thatcher, Travis and Ethan, along with their partners (those that had them) were all so friendly and welcoming, and she’d enjoyed telling stories about her time in New York with Anthony, as well as hearing how well he was settling into the team in Vancouver.

It had been everything she’d wanted for the first day of her visit – what more could she have asked for?

“Okay I’ve got cold bottles of water in the fridge or I picked up that brand of peppermint tea that you like,” Anthony said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Peppermint tea?

“You don’t drink peppermint tea, Beau,” she frowned, “you bought it especially for me?”

“Well, yeah, Bells. Of course I did,” he shrugged, although a light blush hit his cheeks.

This guy.

“Peppermint tea would be great,” she said softly, still a little stunned that he went through the trouble for her.

What a perfect way to wind down. The two of them sat on the sofa while she drank her tea and he drank a bottle of water, talking about all the things Anthony wanted to buy for the apartment when he came back next season (a couple of throw rugs, art for the hallway walls, a new smoothie maker, and so on). It felt like they were back in New York, like no time had passed and nothing had changed, which only made her heart pang a little more when it was eventually time to go to bed. She was flagging, hard, and he had an early start tomorrow, as much as she didn’t want this little bubble to end.

“Good night, Bells,” Anthony murmured, leaning against the doorway to the spare bedroom.

“Good night, Beau,” she murmured back, not wanting to break the moment as those blue eyes caught with her own dark brown ones.

He smiled softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of her head before he walked down the hallway to his own room, leaving her feeling like she was floating on air.

What a first day indeed.

*

“Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!”

Isabella groaned at the loud sound of her best friend’s voice, eyes blearily looking over to where he was standing in the open doorway.

“What?” she groaned, “What are you doing?”

“First of all, I tried knocking, like, three separate times. Second, I made eggs and bacon and toast, duh. Breakfast, remember? Before I fly out with the team?” he teased.

Oh fuck, yeah of course. How could she forget? Anthony took one look at the expression on her face and burst out laughing.

“There’s also coffee. Clearly you need some,” he snickered.

Rude. Accurate, but rude. Isabella flipped him the bird, making him laugh harder, but at least he left her alone to deal with her bedhead. Her natural curls were a pain in the mornings, especially without taking a shower to deal with them properly, so she just threw them up on top of her head into a loose bun while she headed to the bathroom. She’d already decided she would be straightening her hair for her conference, for ease through those long days, but for now this would have to do. It wasn’t like Anthony hadn’t seen her looking worse.

After quickly washing and dressing into leggings and an oversized sweater, Isabella headed out into the kitchen, wordlessly accepting the coffee mug that Anthony pressed into her hands with a smile. Mmm perfect.

“Thanks for this, Beau. You’re amazing,” she murmured happily.

Interestingly, the back of Anthony’s neck flushed red, his back turned to her as he plated up their food.

“It’s just coffee, Bells,” he said, shrugging.

No it wasn’t and he knew that.

“Okay, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and wholemeal toast, bon appétit.”

“Merci beaucoup.”

Anthony grinned at her attempt at French, Isabella just grinning back.

“So what are you going to do today and tomorrow? Your conference doesn’t start until Tuesday, right?” he asked, scooping up some eggs with his toast.

“I’m not going to do much, I won’t lie,” she mused, earning a grin, “I might take a walk around your neighbourhood today, maybe find a coffee shop or something? And then just a chilled night in, probably with take-out. Tomorrow though…hm, I probably need to do my nails before the conference so I’ll either pop out to buy some nail polish or I’ll book an appointment in a salon? If the weather is nice I might get lunch out, have a walk in downtown, see the sights? And I do want to get a bit of preparation work done before everything starts on Tuesday, ahead of watching your game against the Kings.”

She’d had enough time on her flights to plan at least a few things at least anyway. What? Isabella liked to be prepared.

“You don’t have to watch my game if you’re busy with work,” Anthony frowned.

What?

“Beau, in what world would I not watch one of your games?” she asked, confused.

“I just…I mean, I…”

He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, only confusing her further.

“It’s hard enough that I don’t get to see you anymore. Watching your games is the closest thing I have,” she said, frowning.

The look that passed across his face could only be described as devastation. “Fuck, Bells, you can’t just say things like that,” he said softly.

“Why not? I mean it, Beau. You’re one of my best friends. I love watching you play, you know that,” she said simply.

Anthony smiled slightly at her, but it looked strained. “I know you are. And I appreciate that more than you know.”

“But?” she prompted.

He hesitated for a moment, before letting out a shaky laugh and shaking his head. “But it’s too early and neither of us have had enough caffeine,” he deflected.

Isabella narrowed her eyes but took a big gulp of her coffee in response, making him laugh and roll his eyes fondly.

“Never change Isabella Thornton,” he mused.

“Oh ouch, full name. Definitely too early for that,” she said, grimacing dramatically.

Anthony just laughed louder.

In the end, the rest of her Sunday was spent exactly as she described to him. After he left, giving her a long lingering hug in the hallway after leaving her a spare key, she did in fact wander around his neighbourhood, taking in the cutesy local park and little shops, spending a couple of hours in a coffee shop with the book she’d started reading the previous afternoon. It was a good way to spend a time, nice and chilled exactly how she liked her downtime.

Before he’d left too, Anthony had given her the rundown of his favourite local restaurants, including an amazing Thai place that she knew she had to try – so that night, before taking a shower to sort out her wayward hair, she placed a takeaway order. Isabella hadn’t been able to decide between the panang beef curry with jasmine rice and the tofu pad see ew, so in the end she’d ordered both. Whatever she didn’t eat, she would eat tomorrow after her first day at the conference finished, ahead of watching Anthony play against the Kings. It was just logical, right?

By the time she had her curls plopped up in an old t-shirt, ahead of straightening them when they were fully dry in the morning, the food had arrived. The smell of both dishes was heavenly – she’d have to thank Anthony for his recommendation for sure.

Her phone buzzed twice. Beau 💛. Speak of the devil.

~

From: Anthony Heading out to team dinner soon. Hope you didn’t get lost wandering around today?

~

Isabella barked out a laugh at the very idea of her just wandering around lost and not telling him, but found herself smiling anyway. He was concerned about her – so sweet, as always.

~

From: Isabella No I didn’t get lost. Thanks for checking though. Just ordered myself some take-out actually!

~

She included a selfie of her holding up one of the take-out boxes, pulling a ridiculous duck face pout to hopefully make him laugh. It was far from the first time the two of them had exchanged silly photos, and she doubted it would be the last. While she waited for a response, she forked some noodles into her mouth, clicking on the TV to find some entertainment for the rest of her evening.

Three buzzes.

~

From: Anthony The Thai place! Great choice! Kinda wish I was eating that with you rather than the steakhouse we’re heading too lol. You look very cute and comfy.

~

She found her cheeks heating up with a light blush at his last words, quickly shaking her head to rid herself of any ridiculous thought. He didn’t mean it like that. He just didn’t.

~

From: Isabella Thank you for recommending the place, it’s SO good. Nah you enjoy the steakhouse Beau!

~

She didn’t expect to hear back from him, not with the game starting so soon, but the simple ‘xxx’ he sent her made her whole body warm. This guy, seriously.

Isabella knew how lucky she was to have a friend like him in her life. Unapologetically kind and sweet, always had her back, never failed to make sure that she was happy. Anthony was one of a kind, a true gentleman, and the fact that their chance friendship had turned into such an important part of her life was something she cherished.

She’d still been in college when they’d met, a mutual friend dragging her along to a party, and ever since that first night they’d just clicked. It didn’t make sense, not really, their worlds having very little crossover. But Isabella knew back then that all of that didn’t matter, proven by the fact that they stayed closed when she graduated college, stopping going to 99% of the parties, and Anthony stayed up in the show, proving himself night after night.

And now she was here – in his home in Vancouver while he was away, curled up on his sofa with his blanket draped around her. If anyone had told her five years ago that this is where she would be, she probably would’ve laughed – in what dreams was she going to build such a strong friendship with a handsome young NHL player? But this was her reality, it did happen, and there was no way she was letting him drift away, especially now that he’d moved so far away.

Isabella sent Anthony a text before she turned herself in for an early night, knowing she’d need to be up early to give herself the time to straighten her hair properly in the morning. It took less than 30 seconds to get a response back from him, making her laugh softly at his eagerness as she slipped into the guest bed.

~

From: Anthony Sweet dreams! 💛

~

She tried not to think too hard about how the little heart gave her butterflies.

*

Monday passed quicker than Isabella thought it would. Just as she’d told him – just as she’d planned – she treated herself to a manicure in a salon downtown as well as treated herself to a lunch out near the Quayside Marina, going for a walk along the waterfront before she did some prep work for her conference. It was only last minute checks of the presentations she would be part of, but she knew it would allow her to sleep easier without the what-if anxiety playing on her mind.

Along with eating the remaining Thai take-out and taking the time to straighten her thick curls ahead of the conference the next day, Isabella also watched Anthony play against the Kings on his stupidly big TV. The 3-0 loss made her ache inside, especially with how dejected the team looked even through the screen, and the moment that he texted her to ask if he could call, she didn’t hesitate to call him first.

His patented Sad Beau face made her ache even more, and it was all she could do to try to comfort him. She hated when he looked as sad as he did after this loss, the wear and tear of the season bearing down on him, but she wasn’t going to miss the chance to at least attempt to make him feel better. If she could help just a little bit, ease that sadness, then she would – seeing him look all soft with his fluffy hair and glasses in his hotel room was motivation enough.

The sweet smile she managed to drag out of him by the time they said goodnight was everything she could’ve hoped for.

All too soon, Tuesday 11th rolled around, and Isabella walked into the hotel the conference was being held in with her work laptop and an air of confidence she only partially-felt. Usually she had no problem talking to people – give her a bar or a party or a restaurant or even a casual barbecue and she could chat away for hours. But when it mattered? When the opinions of the people she talked to about their impression of her would be a deciding factor in whether her company would get their business in the coming year? It was terrifying.

But she was dressed the part, wearing her grey bodycon dress and black blazer like armour, her hair pin straight and her make-up perfect, and that gave her the boost to be able to fake her she was feeling.

At least her two Sales colleagues couldn’t tell how nervous she was when the three of them set up the company booth. By the time they were finished setting up, people were still walking in, so Isabella volunteered to grab them all a coffee. She hadn’t had time for her usual caffeine intake before she’d left for the conference – something she was definitely going to make sure she did ahead of Day Two – so this was more of an excuse to be able to wake herself up properly, to make sure she stayed at her best on this opening day.

Just as she returned to the booth and passed out the requested coffee, her phone buzzed. Beau 💛

~

From: Anthony Good luck today! Kick some ass!

~

Oh how sweet. Even though he undoubtedly had a late night after playing the Kings yesterday and travelled to Anaheim today at some point too, he was thinking about her?

~

From: Isabella I will do my best to kick ass, metaphorically. Good luck to you too! And kick some actual ass yourself! I’ll be watching the game tonight at yours again.

~

From: Anthony 💛 💛 💛

~

Again, his response came through incredibly quickly, making her think he was just waiting for her to text him. Why would he do that? Surely he had better things to do than wait around for her to text him?

And why did he only text three hearts?

Isabella found herself completely lost in thoughts, overthinking everything he could mean and everything he likely didn’t mean, and everything in between. It wasn’t like her to overanalyse every interaction with Anthony, but maybe it was the Vancouver air, or the fact that they’d been separated for the longest time in years. She honestly didn’t know where it was coming from, and she hated how uncertain it all made her feel. What was he playing at? Why was he acting like this, now? Was she just reading too much into it?

“Uh, Isabella?”

A deep voice to her left broke her out of her spiral, and she jumped slightly at the hand awkwardly waving in front of her face.

“Sorry Jerry, the caffeine hasn’t kicked in yet,” she said, forcing a laugh, “What’s up?”

He just laughed, taking her lie without question. “We need to go set up for the presentation. We’re up first today, remember?”

“Of course, let me grab my laptop,” she nodded.

It was simple enough to set-up and get the presentation going, if she was being honest, just clicking through the presentation slides while he was talking on stage (and their other colleague was manning the booth), and it allowed her to drift along on auto-pilot, only needing to focus on his talk and the screen in front of her. Thankfully she only needed to give input on one question he was asked in the Q&A portion, and she found herself smiling as everything finished to a hearty applause, accepting Jerry’s subtle high-five with a laugh.

The rest of the conference went smoothly, Isabella mainly able to listen to the other speeches given and take notes to feed back to the executive board while her Sales colleagues focused on schmoozing other attendees. It was one of the perks of being a marketing team member at a conference – outside of the presentations, the pressure really was off her. And at least her two colleagues this time were decent guys, rather than some of the assholes she’d been paired with before, so she didn’t hesitate to accept joining them at the after-drinks. With the conference finishing at 3pm, she allowed herself a few hours to relax and drink a couple of cocktails, but as soon as it hit 6pm she was in an uber on the way back to Anthony’s apartment. There was no way she was going to miss his game, not even if she’d had one of the best cranberry martinis she’d ever drank.

By the time the game started at 7pm, Isabella was dressed in her pyjamas was a bowl of pasta in her lap, willing the team to have a better result than the night before. For Anthony’s sake, if nothing else. And what a game it was. The moment that the buzzer sounded, ending the game with a 3-2 win over the Ducks, Isabella’s face hurt from smiling, and she wasted no time in reaching for her phone and thumbing open her message thread with Anthony.

~

From: Isabella YESSSSSS! Go Canucks! I’m so proud of you Beau. What a great game. 3-2 baby! I know you’re probably going out for drinks or dinner or whatever with the team. But call me when you get back to your hotel?

~

Isabella lost track of time while she waited for him to respond, distracting herself with washing up all the things she’d used to make dinner as well as doing her night-time facecream routine, so by the time her phone buzzed with a video call request, she was sitting on her bed up against the pillows. The moment that his smiling face appeared on her screen, something settled in her chest that she didn’t realise she was holding onto. He already looked so much happier than when they spoke the night before, and she found herself sinking against the headboard with a smile of her own.

“Hello Beau,” Isabella said fondly, “That’s the smile I like to see.”

“Hey Bells. You like my smile?”

She blushed at his teasing words, but powered through. “You know I do. Happy Beau is much better than Sad Beau.”

“I wasn’t Sad Beau.”

“You were sad enough,” she mused.

He just huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

“No-one else calls me out like you do.”

Her breath hitched in his throat at his words, making her hesitate slightly before answering. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a very good thing. You help remind me to keep the bad balanced with good, that there’s still positive things in my life even when everything feels like shit. I appreciate that more than you know.”

She resolutely ignored the butterflies flaring in her stomach, the smile spreading across her face again conveying more than enough.

“Well that’s what friends do, right?”

“Yeah. Friends. Exactly.”

The way his smile flickered at that must’ve been a technical glitch in the call, surely.

They continued to talk for nearly another hour, losing themselves in easy conversation as they always did, until Isabella noticed Anthony started yawning, even as subtle as he was attempting to be in hiding it behind his hand.

“Hey, Beau, I’ll let you get some sleep yeah?” she murmured.

“What? No, I’m fine, really.”

Isabella laughed softly, shaking her head with a fond smile. “You played an intense game today and you have an early flight tomorrow. Get your beauty rest.”

He smiled through the screen, eyes half-lidded with tiredness.

“Okay, if you insist. I’ll see you after your conference finishes, yeah?”

“Absolutely. I can’t wait,” she grinned.

“Me too. Goodnight, Bells.”

“Goodnight Beau.”

When the call ended, Isabella took a moment to indulge in the sweetness of his smile before shaking herself out of her silly thoughts. Was it so wrong to enjoy the way he looked at her sometimes? Surely not. Besides, he wouldn’t smile at her if he didn’t mean it – he’d said as such, how much he appreciated her. She could always work with that. With a b out of inspiration, Isabella grabbed her personal laptop and opened up spotify, ready to make Anthony a playlist for his flight home in the morning. He deserved to have his good mood continue, to arrive back with nothing but positivity in his veins. This was something she’d done dozens of times before, and it didn’t take her long to put together a list of songs nearly two hours long that would hopefully put a smile on his face. She put a few final touches to the playlist with Shake it off by Taylor Swift, Shut Up and Dance by WALK THE MOON, and Come on Eileen by Dexy’s Midnight Runners, finding herself smiling at the good mood she had curated. Done. Perfect.

~

From: Isabella Sleep well Beau. Looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow! I made you a playlist for the flight – positive vibes only.

~

From: Anthony You’re the best. See you tomorrow. 💛

*

Day Two of the conference – Wednesday 12th – found her dressed in a pretty lilac shift dress with a grey blazer of the top, another immaculate set of armour allowing her to get stuck into the networking that was happening in between all of the speeches and presentations. Isabella mostly let the Sales guys do their thing, but she was able to contribute a bit more with people who approached their company booth, supporting the discussions by using examples of the campaigns she’d personally ran. At least, she felt confident enough with the approving nods and the handshakes exchanged with potential clients. Anthony’s flight had landed mid-morning, right on schedule, and he'd very sweetly messaged her the moment he arrived home. So instead of attending drinks again when the conference finished, she headed straight back to Anthony’s apartment. She didn’t feel bad skipping out of the social time, mainly because it mattered more for the Sales guys to be there, but also because she desperately wanted to spend her limited time with Anthony while she still could.

“Bells!”

Anthony’s happy shout combined with the way he rushed over to her and lifted her up in his arms, spinning her around seconds after she shut the front door behind her let her know she’d made the right decision.

“Anyone would think you were happy to see me, Beau,” she giggled, clutching at him tightly.

Anthony just grinned, shrugging apologetically as he lowered her back down to the floor, although his cheeks had a light flush to them.

“Of course I’m happy to see you. It felt weird knowing you were finally in Vancouver but I wasn’t actually there myself,” he said simply.

Yeah she could understand that.

“I missed you too,” she murmured, shrugging off her blazer and hanging it up on the coatrack.

Isabella raised an eyebrow as Anthony’s ran over her formal lilac dress, taking her in like he’d never seen her before.

“I suppose it’s not the clothes you’re used to, hm?” she mused.

Strangely, her words made him jump slightly, as if she broke him out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“The dress?” she teased, “I know I don’t usually wear them this formal, but come on it’s not that bad.”

“No, uh, not bad at all. Definitely not used to you wearing them,” he said quickly, nodding as he blushed a little heavier, “You look great though.”

“Thanks Beau,” she grinned.

What a sweetheart. Even if he was still blushing.

“Thanks for the playlist by the way. It really helped me get through the flight this morning,” Anthony said, heading towards the kitchen.

Isabella followed him with a smile, that smile widening as he wordlessly handed her a cold bottle of water from the fridge, nudging him with her shoulder in thanks.

“It was the least I could do. Besides, the good vibes in the songs gave me good vibes too,” she shrugged.

“Great vibes – especially that last song,” he grinned.

“Come on Eileen is a classic for a reason,” she said seriously, making him laugh just like she knew it would.

They talked about day two of her conference as they chose what take-out to order for dinner – they settled on Vietnamese, including summer rolls, beef brisket phở, and tiger prawn curry noodles, settling on the sofa while they waited for it to arrive. It was only then that the conversation took a heavier turn, as Anthony suddenly looked exhausted down to his bones, and not just physically.

“What’s going through your head? What’s wrong?” Isabella asked softly, resting her hand on his forearm briefly to capture his attention.

“I feel like I failed this year,” Anthony said quietly.

What?

“I’m sorry, what?” Isabella asked, confused.

“The team didn’t make the playoffs. The season is over and I just…I failed, right? The Canucks haven’t made the playoffs for the 8th year in a row and the Islanders did make it, so clearly they were right to trade me, and I just…I don’t know what to do.”

His rant flew from his mouth faster than she had ever heard him speak before, and the sadness entrenching every word made her heart ache in the worst way. He really felt like this? Like he was a failure? How long had he been hiding his self-deprecating emotions like this?

“You did not fail. You are not a failure. You’re just one guy, Beau,” she said firmly. “You didn’t ask for this trade, not in the slightest, and you’ve made a good solid start for yourself here. The Canucks needed you and you gave them a boost of course, but it is so not on you. Do you think Petey and Brock and Quinn and literally everyone else feel like you let them down?”

“No,” he admitted softly.

“Then don’t let yourself feel like that. Yeah, it sucks. Not making the playoffs is everything you didn’t want to happen. But you guys are way too talented for it not to build up for next season. You are far too talented, Anthony Beauvillier, and it will work out,” she finished.

“Ouch, full name,” he said with a weak smile.

She just batted his shoulder lightly with a hand, pursing her lips. “I mean it, okay? You worked hard and this year it just didn’t work out. I have full faith that things will click for you next year.”

Anthony hesitated for a second, before letting out a shaky sigh.

“I might just have to let your faith be the only faith for a little while,” he said softly.

Her frown softened to a gentle smile, and she squeezed the shoulder that she batted only moments before.

“If that’s what you need, then that’s fine. My faith in you isn’t going anywhere. You have one final game to play, right? So you go out there and you show them what you’ve got. Show yourself. I’ll be watching with imaginary pompoms,” she mused.

“Can I get you real pompoms? Maybe a cheerleader skirt too?” he grinned.

That was the Anthony she knew.

“You are pushing your luck. Keep that in your dreams,” she snickered.

Interestingly, he blushed furiously at her words, making her laugh. What a reaction.

It didn’t take much longer for their Vietnamese take-out to arrive and they settled as easily as ever next to each other on the sofa, sharing all the dishes in a way that felt so effortless, a reminder of the life they led back in New York. Anthony switched on an old favourite action movie while they were eating, just something to play in the background while they ate and talked and enjoyed each other’s company, and Isabella didn’t hesitate to seamlessly transition that into cuddling on the sofa when the take-out boxes were empty.

She did ignore the butterflies in her stomach flaring up as his thumb brushed her bare shoulder though. No, tonight was about Anthony, giving him comfort, not about her ridiculous notions.

*

The last day of her conference, Day Three – Thursday 13th – started with Anthony joining her for coffee and breakfast. She knew he had no real reason to get up early with her, but she appreciated the sweet gesture nonetheless. As she caught an uber over to the hotel conference hall, her mind was reeling from the sleepy smiles he sent her way, even more so with the soft parting kiss he pressed to her cheek as she said goodbye to him.

Why now? Why were all the feelings she’d fought so hard to bury surfacing out now?

But Isabella didn’t have time to get lost in her thoughts. She wouldn’t let herself – couldn’t let herself. No, all she allowed herself to do was to brush her shaky hands down her navy blue sheath dress and matching navy blazer as she walked into the hotel before she threw up her confident walls, greeting her colleagues with a practiced smile.

She already knew that the last day of the conference would be mostly final presentations and speeches, so she let them consume her, taking notes as diligently as she was able to be able to report back to her bosses. It was a blessing in disguise really, letting her work monopolise her mind, and she found herself swept up in the last rounds of networking with a genuine smile on her face. In all honesty, the conference had been a success – her Sales colleagues had garnered all of the business and attention they were meant to, and her contributions had been smooth and fruitful. That didn’t mean she stayed around for the final night of drinks though.

No, when the conference talks finished at 3pm, she caught an uber straight back to Anthony’s apartment, ready to go to the final Canucks game tonight. The game started at 7pm so she had more than enough time to shower, eat a little something while she dried her natural curls, and change into comfy jeans and Anthony’s jersey. He was already at the arena by the time she’d arrived back at his after packing up the company stand, so she caught an uber down to the game again.

Same as last time, he had left her a ticket at will call. She had asked for a ticket in the stands rather than in the box. It was just the atmosphere she wanted to surrounded by, the sight of him upclose being a welcome bonus. By the time she was heading down to her seat with an overpriced beer in her hand, it was time for warmups, and as she watched the Canucks skate out to excited cheers, she found her seat right by the glass.

Of course, of course he got her glass-side seats. Isabella rolled her eyes softly but found herself smiling anyway. Anthony always was so thoughtful, and this evening was no different. She caught his eyes as he skated past her and she waved enthusiastically at him, ignoring the looks from people around her as he happily waved back. Let them be jealous. They didn’t share the friendship the two of them had so she didn’t care what people thought of the interaction. She did snicker quietly as she noticed the obvious teasing his teammates gave him when he skated back over to them though. Bless his heart and his rosy cheeks too.

The game was a nail biter, even more so than the other three games she’d watched this week had been. For each Canucks goal she jumped up out of her seat cheering, high fiving everyone around her. For every Coyotes goal, she winced and listened to the boos around her. By the time the third period ended 4-4 ahead of going into OT, she felt like she was in an emotional wringer. This was the last Canucks game of the season; she knew how much it meant to Anthony let alone the rest of the team, so when the buzzer sounded it was all she could do to keep breathing, hoping for a miracle.

And praise Garland for his game winning goal only 1.19 into the OT, hats flying onto the ice to mark his hattrick as the arena erupted in cheers and shouts for the 5-4 win. Isabella’s hands were stinging from clapping by the time the stands started to empty, her cheeks aching from smiling, but she didn’t hesitate to go down to the tunnel like she had that first night, waiting for Anthony to be finished.

As soon as he walked out to meet her, she squealed, making him laugh as he swooped her up in a hug.

“Ahhh Beau! I’m so happy for you! Such an amazing assist!” she said, when he’d put her back down.

Anthony’s assist on Garland’s power play goal was the Canucks second goal of the game, the first of Garland’s three, and she was so proud of him for ending his season so well.

“Felt good to contribute in our last game, I will admit,” Anthony said a little sheepishly.

“See, I told you! Positive thinking!” Isabella grinned.

He just laughed, making her smile soften. He really was so cute, especially when his happiness was shining through like this.

“Most of the team are heading out for drinks again tonight, especially with the win in this last game of the season. Do you want to go?” Anthony asked her, smiling softly.

Like she’d want to be anywhere else.

“Absolutely,” she nodded, “I even brought a leather jacket with me to wear over this tank top instead of the jersey.”

“Oh perfect, I’ll put your jersey in my car before we catch ubers to the bar then, so you don’t have to carry it around,” he said, smiling.

So thoughtful.

The booths reserved in the bar were full of players, various family members, wives and girlfriends, so Isabella didn’t feel like the odd one out for the celebration of the end of their season. That didn’t mean she moved far away from Anthony though. All night they were side-by-side, and Anthony seemed oblivious to the looks he was getting from his teammates where he had his arm round her waist, where he was murmuring in her ear. With the way the drinks were flowing, Isabella didn’t care enough to say anything, to correct their assumptions, letting herself slip to a level that she usually wouldn’t with alcohol. She wasn’t drunkdrunkdrunk, not by any means, but she was far merrier than she usually allowed herself to get, clinging to Anthony in a way that she always had refused herself.

The music blared, shots were pounded back, laughter filled their group, and all throughout Anthony held her tight, his hands possessive in a way they had never been before. He held her closer than he ever had as they swayed on the dancefloor, bodies pressed close, the energy between them crackling. She let herself pretend that it was the heat of the bar not his intense eyes that had her flushed and giddy. The vodka mixers allowed her to pretend anyway, and by the time that Anthony mentioned making a move back home, much later than she thought they would, her mind was a happy haze of BeauBeauBeau. Nothing else mattered, not the knowing winks or the giggles, not the way her feet were aching, not the way she leant heavily on him as they made their way out of the bar to the waiting uber.

They were still leaning against each other as they stumbled out of the taxi at his apartment building, Isabella giggling as she waved goodbye to their driver. Anthony helped hold her up in the elevator, using the wall to prop himself up, Isabella just snuggling into his broad chest with a happy drunken sigh. This was perfect. Did he always smell this good? Was he always this warm?

They slowly made their way to his front door, Anthony holding her close in a way that wasn’t helping them walk in a straight line. Isabella just stayed clutching at him, letting him guide her, humming quietly to herself as she smiled up at him, especially as he smiled widely down at her, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed. He struggled to open the front door, making her giggle like she had done getting out of the taxi, and he pressed his finger to her lips in an exaggerated shush, only making her laugh harder. This was bliss, this was heated happiness, this was…her stumbling into the doorframe and falling forward. She slammed into his chest, Anthony somehow holding her upright as he closed the door behind her, his body swaying as he tried to hold them both up.

Isabella clutched as his arms – so strong, so firm – looking up at him with wide eyes, only then noticing how close they were standing. How close he was holding her. Had they ever been this close before? Had his eyes always been that blue?

She jerked out of her thoughts as he pressed his lips to hers.

Isabella moaned softly before she could stop herself, Anthony quickly pulling away, lips red. Wow. Wow. So that was what it was like to kiss him? As she looked back up into his beautiful eyes, some of the fog in her head cleared, only to be replaced by how good that felt. She had to do it again. She had to know what it felt like to kiss him again.

It seemed like Anthony felt the same way, because one of his hands flew up to cup her head as he pushed her back against the door, a loud gasp tearing from her throat just before he took her lips in a kiss once more. There it was. This, right here. She melted into his embrace, clutching as his shirt with her hands as she hungrily kissed him back, Anthony moaning into her mouth before he slid his tongue past her lips. Her head spun as she lost herself in his kisses, her body lighting up with an electricity she hadn’t felt in a long time as their bodies surged together, moaning again as his free hand slid over her ass and squeezed. Never had she felt like this with a first kiss. Never had she wanted this much.

Then Anthony broke the kiss, barely pulling away, just enough so she could blearily see that he was panting as hard as she was.

“Do you want to…?”

“Yes.”

*

It was her pounding headache that woke her up, paired with the start of rolling nausea. All Isabella could do for longer than she could tell was breathe in and out slowly, measured breaths careful enough to not set off a run to the bathroom that she didn’t really want to do. She knew she drank more than she usually would last night; not enough to be obliterated, no, but these were the consequences that always reminded her why she had her alcohol limits. Her head feeling like it was going to crack in two, her stomach clenching over and over, her bare body clammy and chilled in the early morning air.

Wait, what?

Bare body. She was naked? What?

The moment that her mind processed the new information, the end of the evening caught up with her, reminding her exactly what had happened. Clutching hands, clashing lips, heated breath, stinging bites, pleasure like she’d never felt before. Anthony filling her, surrounding her, moaning out her name as she cried out his. Fuck.

Oh fuck what had she done? Tears stung at her eyes, clouding her gaze as she slowly glanced over her shoulder, carefully so as not to make her nausea worse…and there he was, just as naked as she was. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle any sounds that might escape her, glad she’d done so as the arm she hadn’t noticed draped over her waist tightened slightly with her minor movement.

She’d ruined everything. Everything. How could she have been so stupid to give in to her desires for him? How could anything ever be the same again between them?

Tears finally trickled down her cheeks as Anthony huffed a breath that ruffled her curls, his legs shifting enough to slot one of them between hers. As she cried, biting her bottom lip to muffle her quiet sobs, her headache came back with full force, throbbing like nothing she’d ever felt before. It was all Isabella could do to close her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep, hoping that when she woke up again that all of this would disappear. A stupid aimless hope, she knew that, but it was all she could cling to.

She drifted in and out of sleep as the hours went on, head pounding and swimming enough that she couldn’t wake herself up fully let alone move, but by the time that the midday sun filtered through the curtains she knew she couldn’t avoid getting out of bed anymore.

Just as she was gathering the courage to remove his arm from her waist, that arm tightened again, pulling her roughly back against his bare body, making her gasp loud enough for Anthony to flinch -and quickly shoot back across the bed as he woke up in alarm.

“Shit. Shit, Bells…”

Isabella let out a shaky breath before sitting upright, clutching the bedsheets to her chest in a poor attempt at modesty.

“Hi Beau,” she said with a watery smile.

She knew her smile looked as fake as it felt by the way that Anthony’s face fell. He ran a hand through his hair, looking at a loss for words, so she stayed silent too. There was nothing she could say to make this situation better, she knew that. And it wasn’t like she even knew what to say either. Everything she had worked so hard to prevent, the loss of their friendship being the main part, was for nothing. This was the beginning of the end – and by the way he wouldn’t look at her, she felt it in her bones as a certainty.

“I…”

She cut herself off, swallowing heavily to stop the lump rising in her throat as Anthony closed his eyes briefly. Fuck. Fuck.

“I’m going to shower. And pack all my stuff,” she eventually managed to say.

That, at least, made Anthony finally look over at her.

“What?”

She cleared her throat, willing herself not to cry at the intensity in his beautiful blue eyes.

“I fly home tomorrow, and I haven’t packed yet. There’s only this afternoon left to do it, and seeing as I have to be at the airport by 6.30am, I really don’t want to be packing last minute tomorrow morning,” she said as calmly as she could.

“Bells, wait, please,” he murmured.

She forced a polite smile on her face, hating that he winced when he saw it, hating that it was necessary to make her feel even a little bit of normality.

“And I think I’ll book a taxi to take me to the airport too, as it’s early,” she finished.

Rather than Anthony taking her, as they’d agreed previously. Before this clusterfuck ending of their friendship.

“No,” he said sharply.

“What?” she said, bland masking failing a little.

“I’ll still drive you to the airport,” he said.

Why? Why would he want to do that?

“You don’t have to,” she said, voice cracking.

“I want to,” Anthony said, shaking his head, “Please, Bells.”

The desperation in his voice made her heart ache as much as it confused her. Why was he so insistent? Why did he want to do this?

“Sure.”

The relief in Anthony’s eyes only confused her more.

*

Friday was possibly the most awkward day she’d ever spent in Anthony’s company. Isabella had managed to make it through her shower with shaky legs, eventually sliding down the wall to huddle on the shower floor, the sound of the shower muffling her crying enough for Anthony to leave her in peace as he caught an uber back to the arena to collect his car. Even when he arrived back, he still left her alone to pack all her things scattered around the guest room, which she somehow managed to stretch out into taking two hours. The rest of the day had been spent avoiding him as much as possible, sitting at opposite ends of the sofa while they ate pizza that night, neither one of them wanting to cook for obvious reasons, and she had claimed an early night for her early start the next day.

But it had taken so long for her to fall asleep, her mind not shutting off, overthinking every little interaction the two of them had that day, so by the time her alarm went off at 5am she was even more exhausted than the day before. Still, she knew she couldn’t delay the inevitable, and got up to leave Anthony for what she feared would be the last time.

Because that was where this was heading, wasn’t it? Everything between them – their friendship, their closeness, all that they shared – had been ruined the moment she stepped into his bedroom in an alcohol-fuelled lust haze. Neither of them had made the step forward yesterday to do anything about their dwindling friendship, and now…now it was too late.

Her flight from Vancouver was due to leave at 8.35am, with her due to land in LaGuardia at 8pm, having one stop for connecting flight in Denver for 1.45hrs. Her company had booked flights for the cheapest options available; the timings and airports weren’t her choice at all, but in this moment, the early flight was some kind of blessing.

Unsurprisingly, their drive to airport was quiet. Isabella didn’t even have a coffee mug to distract herself with, not wanting the caffeine in this jittery body before she ate something a little later, so the time in the car with him felt like it dragged. That aching feeling only dragged out when Anthony paid $5.00 for the parkade and walked her to the main departures doors.

“So I guess this is goodbye,” Anthony murmured, handing her the suitcase he wheeled over from the car for her.

Why did that hurt so much more than she thought it would?

“I guess so,” she said softly, clutching at her handbag like it was a lifeline.

Without warning, Anthony stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. Isabella couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her throat, and she found herself hugging him back just as tightly, burying her face in the crook of his neck, trying not to tremble at the close contact. She could feel his face pressing into her curls, his breathing shaky like he was trying not to cry, and she desperately willed herself not to cry either when tears stung her eyes. This wasn’t fair. How had everything boiled down to this, after all their years of friendship? How was everything over?

She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t cling onto him when she knew that any moment she would have to let him go for real. So, Isabella found the strength to unclench her hands from his shirt, taking the step backwards that she didn’t want to take. Hundreds of words flew around her head, everything she wanted to say to him that she didn’t know how to voice. And it looked like he wanted to say something too, lips parting and hand raising towards her…until his hand dropped back to his side and he took a proper step backwards, clearing his throat.

A little bit of her died inside at the misery in his eyes.

Was this really goodbye forever?

“Have a safe flight. Let me know when you land?” Anthony said softly.

“It won’t be for nearly 9 hours,” she said, hesitating.

“I don’t care,” he said immediately, “Please?”

She just sighed, nodding. “Yeah, of course Beau.”

He smiled in response, but it just looked sad to her. As sad as the emptiness in his eyes. But before she could say anything to change his expression even the slightest bit, a big shuttle bus pulled up and a group of loud people stepped out, ruining the last chance. Their last chance?

It was all Isabella could to do smile sadly at him as she walked into the airport.

Her flight was restless – she was too awake to sleep but too caught up in her thoughts to read a book or watch a movie. If she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t even remember what she ate. If she ate. All she was able to do, as if punishing herself further, was to put her headphones over her ears to drown the world out and listen to the playlist he had made her for her original flight out, silently crying the whole time.

Her seatmate hadn’t noticed the way she was falling apart next to her.

Eventually she had to face reality as her plane landed in LaGuardia. It would do no good for her heart if she didn’t text Anthony as he’d asked her to, so she pulled out her phone as she waited for the plane to start disembarking.

~

From: Isabella Hey, just landed.

~

It was short and to the point, but it was all she could manage while she felt like a dried-out husk. Somehow, tears stung at her eyes when he immediately messaged back, like he was waiting for her in a way that made no sense.

~

From: Anthony Thank you for letting me know. I hope your flight was okay.

~

Was that concern? Was that politeness? She couldn’t figure it out in her exhausted state so she just exited out of their conversation and put her phone away. That was a problem for another day. All she could manage right now was standing up out of her seat and shuffling off the plane. Everything else could wait for tomorrow. It would have to.

*

Seven days. Seven days passed without a word from Anthony. This was the longest they’d ever gone without speaking, the time stretching out like an impossible chasm. She knew she could’ve responded to his message after her flight, but she hadn’t known what to say, and a couple of days later it felt too late to respond to that particular thread of conversation. But Anthony hadn’t contacted her again either. Maybe it really had been politeness, his comment on her journey, but if it wasn’t then she didn’t really know what to think.

All she knew was that the longer she didn’t text him and the longer that he didn’t text her, she felt like her fragile heart was crumbling, and she didn’t know how to salvage any of it – if anything could be salvaged at all.

Her body ached, the loss of contact with him feeling like a missing limb. She hadn’t felt heartbreak like this before, not with any ex-boyfriends, and this time it was all her fault anyway. Maybe she deserved to feel this empty, this aching. It was all she could do to trudge forward on auto-pilot, trying to get back into her routine as a desperate attempt to cling onto some form of normality. By the time Saturday 22nd rolled around though, she was done. Without work to distract her like it had all week, Isabella knew she needed to get out of her apartment or she would go insane from her overbearing thoughts. So she decided to treat herself to lunch out at a secluded café she hadn’t been to in a while, allowing the walk to clear her foggy thoughts, and by the time her sandwich was in front of her she felt a little more human.

“Bells?”

Isabella looked up sharply, breath hitching at the man standing in front of her.

Mat.

She hadn’t forgotten that this was the café that she, Anthony, and Mat used to all go to together. That did make sense why she hadn’t been there since he left New York though.

“Hey, Barzy, fancy bumping into you here,” she said warmly.

Mat just smiled as she stood up from her seat, wasting no time in giving her a big hug, making her laugh as she hugged him back. Clearly he had the same thoughts as her, getting out for a little while, especially considering he’d just had a run of playoff games against Carolina on Monday 17th, Wednesday 19th, and Friday 21st.

“I know we’ve texted back and forth a lot but I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since Beau got traded,” she said, smiling softly as he sat down opposite her.

But the moment that his smile turned sympathetic, she knew.

“He told you?” she murmured, smile falling.

He bit his bottom lip, hesitating, but that only made her feel worse.

“Barzy please, did he tell you what happened in Vancouver?” she whispered harshly.

Mat huffed out a sign before nodding “He did.”

She immediately felt sick, physically and mentally, her whole body seizing - but Mat quickly shook his head at whatever her face was doing.

“Bells, no, only because he’s freaking out that he’s ruined everything,” Mat insisted.

“Ruined everything?” she asked quietly, her voice catching in her throat as she tried to breathe.

“Look, I don’t know the details. And I sure as hell don’t really want to know them, that’s between you two,” Mat said firmly.

She couldn’t help but laugh softly at the dramatic grimace on his face, and Mat’s expression softened.

“He’s in a real mess, Bells. I’ve never seen him like this before,” Mat said, smiling sadly, “Did he ruin everything?”

He was in a mess? Just as much as she was?

“No, no he hasn’t,” she said with a sad smile, “I thought I did.”

“Man, you two are as bad as each other. I thought your trip to Vancouver would’ve sorted that out finally,” Mat sighed.

What? Sorted what out?

“What?” she managed to choke out.

Mat just shook his head fondly. “Everyone saw the way you two look at each other. We all thought you’d get together, although I’m pretty sure some of the rookies thought you were already dating.”

Well that was something she thought she’d never hear. What the hell?

“I just…he’s one of my best friends, you know? You’re my friend too - and you’re good for him. I want things to be back to normal between you two,” Mat said, smiling sadly.

If that didn’t break her heart even further, she didn’t know what would.

“I don’t know if they can ever go back to normal,” she admitted, hating the words as honest as they were, eyes stinging slightly, “But I don’t want to lose him. I just don’t know what to do.”

He pursed his lips, nodding as he fell silent for a moment. It was all she could do to sip at her coffee, especially as it looked like her friend was thinking hard.

“Do you like him?” Mat asked suddenly.

“W-What?”

“Do you like him? As more than a friend?”

She choked out a laugh, glancing up at the ceiling, trying to fight the tears that sprang to her eyes again. What kind of question was that? Of course she did. She’d never denied it, not that anyone had ever asked her. Anthony was her person, one of the only people in her life that she truly trusted. Of course she liked him. Hell, she was already falling in love with him at this point, she could admit that much to herself. And if Mat’s words held any truth…maybe he was falling for her too?

“Yeah. Yeah, I do like him. More than I probably should for someone who’s never heard from his lips how he feels about me,” she eventually admitted.

Mat’s face split into a smile. “Leave this with me.”

What?

“Barzy…” she warned.

“No, I’m serious, leave it with me. Do you trust me?” Mat said firmly.

“Yeah, you know I do,” Isabella said without hesitation.

Because she did. There wasn’t a malicious bone in Mat Barzal’s body, especially when it came to his friends, and Isabella was fortunate to count herself as one of them. But what did he mean?

“Then let me talk to him, okay? This will all work out, Bells,” Mat said seriously, “You’ll see.”

Hope was dangerous for her fragile heart. But here Mat was, dangling it down on a silver string.

“I really hope you’re right, Barzy,” she sighed.

He just grinned. A thousand girls would kill to have that beaming smile sent their way, but all she could think about was his blue-eyed friend on the other side of Canada.

“I’d better go – got the 4th game in our playoffs series tomorrow. But don’t be a stranger,” Mat said, standing up from his eat.

“I won’t. I’m rooting for you guys against the Canes,” she said, smiling despite the whirling of her emotions.

“Damn right you are,” he grinned.

There was the Mat she knew.

*

A few days more days passed without a word from Mat, or from…anyone else. She knew that Mat was busy, obviously having watched his 4th playoff game on Sunday. She’d even texted him after his 5-2 loss against the Canes, getting nothing but a crying face back which was more than she could’ve hoped for from him in this intense time. But nothing else, and she tried not to let that hope flicker away. She wouldn’t let herself get invested, not until she knew anything for sure. She couldn’t, otherwise she didn’t know if she would survive.

It took until Tuesday 25th for Isabella to wake up with a text from Anthony.

Her hands shook as she flicked open their neglected message thread, eyes stinging as she scanned his words.

~

From: Anthony I’m sorry that I haven’t texted you. I’m guessing you haven’t texted me either for the same reasons. I hate that everything’s gotten so awkward and distant between us but talking with Barzy yesterday gave me hope. Will you please listen to this playlist? we’re lost and found.

~

Isabella had already planned on working from home today but this would’ve pushed her to anyway. He’d actually messaged her. There was still hope? Anthony hadn’t given up on them after all. He’d made her a new playlist? And from the sounds of it, if he’d talked to Barzy like Barzy said he would, this was going to be something that was either going to break her heart for good or give her more hope than she knew what to do with.

Rather than opening the link on her phone, she opened up her personal laptop, clicking on the playlist we’re lost and found when Spotify was open, and quickly clicked play.

“Sunlight comes creepin' in, Illuminates our skin, We watched the day go by, Stories of all we did, It made me think of you, It made me think of you.”

As the lyrics to Birdy’s Wings filled the room, Isabella could do nothing to stop the tears from springing to her eyes. This song was one of her current favourites, he knew this. And if he’d remembered that…what else had he included in the playlist? She quickly scrolled through the rest of the list, eyes scanning every song, every choice he made, aching pangs starting in her chest at his selections.

Wings – Birdy Never Let Me Go – Florence + The Machine Hold You – Nina Nesbitt, Kodaline Wherever You Will Go – Charlene Soraia Teach Me How to Be Loved – Rebecca Ferguson Set Me on Fire – Bella Ferraro Kiss Me – Jason Walker Yours – Ella Henderson Still into You – Paramore Adore You – Harry Styles Tongue Tied – Take Me To Your Best Friends House Slow Hands – Niall Horan I Choose You – Sara Bareilles Lover – Taylor Swift Lover Of Mine – 5 Seconds of Summer this is how you fall in love – Jason Zucker, Chelsea Cutler Falling Like The Stars – James Arthur A Thousand Years – Christina Perri Take Me To Church – Hozier Next To Me – Emeli Sandé I Won’t Give Up – Jason Mraz When You Love Someone – James TW

She felt like she wasn’t breathing, couldn’t breathe, the long curated-collection sending her thoughts scrambling. Did he really feel…? Was he really saying…? Why was he only saying this now, when everything had become so fraught between them?

“If I could, then I would, I’d go wherever you will go.”

The Charlene Soraia cover, another favourite. Fuck, he really had put so much effort into this, hadn’t he? The thoughts, the emotions, everything that he was feeling he had put into this playlist. Playlists were their thing, and the fact that he’d made something like this for her, to show her how he felt…it was everything. She let the music wash over her, tears pouring down her cheeks as she let her heart truly feel what it wanted to feel for the first time, soaking in all of the emotion that he’d poured into this playlist. This was him, and this was her, and it was them. What more could she say?

“But with you I’ve learned how to let it out, Now my heart is ready to burst, Cause I feel like I’m ready for love, And I want to be your everything and more.”

Ella Henderson’s voice continued to spill out from her laptop speakers, but Isabella couldn’t take anymore. She had to speak to him. She had to know…she had to…fuck, she needed to hear his voice. And it only took three rings for him to answer.

“Hey, Bells.”

She sniffled as a couple of tears trickled down her cheeks, closing her eyes at the sound of his voice. “Hey, Beau.”

They fell silent for a moment, just listening to each other breathe, before Anthony eventually cleared his throat.

“You’re listening to the playlist then? I can hear Ella singing in the background.”

He knew it that well, that he could recognise a faint song? How many times had he listened to these songs before he sent them over?

“Yeah. Yeah I am. I have to know…Beau, why did you create this? Why these songs?” she murmured, eyes finally opening, staring at the list in front of her.

He huffed out a laugh, sighing softly.

“It’s always going to be you, Bells. There’s no-one else for me.”

The sound that tore out of her throat barely felt human, and her free hand quickly flew up to cover her mouth, a distraught sound coming through the phone as Anthony heard her.

“Hey, talk to me, please?”

She took a shaky breath, willing herself to stay calm, to keep herself together, and she nodded to herself, steeling her nerves.

“There’s no-one else for you?” she murmured.

“There hasn’t been for a long time.”

The smile that tugged at her lips felt traitorous somehow, her mind not believing his words. He’s liked her for a long time? How was this real? As if he could sense her warring thoughts, Anthony sighed.

“I don’t know what to say to make you believe me. Please, just listen to the songs. They show everything that I can’t over the phone. Music has always spoken for us before, right? So I’m trying to let it speak for me now.”

He was right. Music had always been the thing that connected them, that said everything they didn’t need to say. Except this time, she needed him to say something – and here he was, translating himself in a way that spoke to them both.

“You really feel this way about me?” she said softly, her voice filled with wonder.

“I really do. And I’m hoping, from everything Barzy said and the fact that you haven’t hung up on my yet, that you feel this way for me too?”

Right, because she hadn’t actually said anything that was on her mind. It was all him. Just like always.

“Yeah, Beau, I do. I like you so much,” she said, choking out a laugh, “I just…didn’t think you would ever feel the same for me. The last week has been torture.”

“I’m so sorry. I am so unbelievably sorry for ever making you feel like you aren’t the most important person in my life.”

She choked out a sob this time, her body thrumming, her heart aching, Anthony just making soft reassuring noises through the speaker until she was able to compose herself once more.

“I’ve got locker clear out tomorrow, and then…then I’m thinking about coming to New York for a few weeks. I think we should talk, really talk, face to face. We both deserve that much.”

“Yeah, you’re right. And I’d like that,” she said, a little shyly.

With further tentative plans for Isabella to join him in Quebec after he spent some time with her in New York, she ended the call, her heart full and her cheeks aching with smiling, tacky with happy tears.

Maybe she didn’t know what tomorrow would hold. Or next month. Or even when Anthony was back in Vancouver all over again. But she knew that what she felt for him was worth trying for. And wasn’t that all that mattered anyway? Anthony Beauvillier was falling in love with her just like she was falling in love with him, and she couldn’t wait to see where this journey would take her, especially with him by her side.

[wyattjohnston]

take my hand, baby - brock boeser

series: take you one day at a time

summary: the lead up to the 2023 trade deadline is a little chaotic.

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 2,342

The rumours had been flying for months, a long off-season of potential trade rumours and articles about moving him being the solution to the Canucks cap-space woes—Annie checked every notification on her phone in case it was the one that sealed their fate.

At the beginning of the season it had been devastating but understandable, knowing that Brock was unlikely to see out the season in Vancouver—that even if he did, Bo probably wouldn’t.

It became a lot less understandable a month into the season when Annie stared down at the positive pregnancy test while Brock was in the middle of a weeklong road trip up the east coast.

“I should have waited until he got home. Right, Coolie?” Annie asked as he started to hover around her legs. She scratched him behind the ears. “I should definitely tell him first but probably not on the phone. You have to promise to keep it a surprise.”

Coolie woofed and Annie took it as agreement before he trotted out of the room to tell Milo.

She tapped the stick against the edge of the sink a few times as she tried to work out what was really going through her mind. She didn’t feel the fear she once had, having the word ‘pregnant’ staring back up at her, which was a relief in and of itself. Most of her worry came from having to keep her mouth shut until she saw Brock again.

Annie smiled at her reflection in the mirror, a gentle laugh bubbling from her lips.

The test didn’t leave Annie’s mind once over the next four days; it made talking to Holly almost impossible, a lovely combination of secret keeping and her mind wandering to the test—to the future.

In a moment of weakness, unable to just keep the news between her and the dogs, Annie whispered it into Tulsa’s ear while Holly was distracted by Gunnar. At seven months old, Tulsa obviously had no idea what she was being told, but it settled something in Annie to say it out loud to another human.

“They’re going to be a little younger than you,” Annie said, bouncing Tulsa up and down on her knee, “but I hope you’re best friends.”

Holly had been none-the-wiser.

In their many phone calls before he came home, Brock remained unaware that Annie was keeping anything from him. He noted on more than one occasion that she sounded happy and she just shrugged and said it had been a good week.

It was still early in the afternoon when Brock got home, a benefit of time zones counteracting long flights, and Annie was lounging on their outdoor sofa, Coolie stretched out over her legs and Milo cuddled up into her side. Neither dog did anything more than lift their heads when the back door slid open and Brock walked out.

Annie never got sick of seeing him.

“I thought you’d be working,” he said, smiling fondly at the sight and leaning down to kiss her before he scratched both dogs behind the ears thoroughly.

“I scheduled it off when your schedule came out and I found out they’d shipped you off for ten days.”

He laughed, making room for himself on the couch—Coolie was unimpressed by the disruption but settled back into Brock’s lap. Annie had to find space on his lap around Coolie, but she managed.

Brock said, “You just had me home for like three weeks; you should be sick of me.”

“You weren’t supposed to fuck up your hand again, so I couldn’t prepare around that,” Annie said, tersely, still unhappy that he’d been put in the line up so soon after his surgery. She wasn’t unhappy with him—knowing all too well that if you give a hockey player the choice, they’ll say they’re fine to play—just at the organisation for letting him.

“I don’t want to talk about hockey.” Brock sighed heavily and Annie didn’t blame him. It had been a poor road trip—2 wins in 5 games—and only exacerbated the loss record while Brock was on the ice. He had 2 wins in 11 games.

It was as good a time as any, Annie figured. Her heartbeat was getting quicker and quicker, the anticipation growing with every second she waited. It would lift his mood, too, she was sure of it.

So, she asked, giddily, “Wanna know a secret?”

“Is Holly pregnant again?”

“No, Holly’s not pregnant,” Annie said. “I am.”

“What’s the secr—wait, Annie.”

She was sure his eyes had never been that wide, that his expression had never been happier—it certainly hadn’t in the last year. He reached out for Annie desperately, jostling both the dogs off the couch, and there was no time wasted in her climbing into his lap.

“It’s why I’ve been so happy this week,” she said into the top of Brock’s head.

His face was buried into her neck, his arms wrapped tightly around her body. Her straddle over his lap was rather awkward but he was holding her so close that moving was out of the occasion, it didn’t matter, really, when everything else felt positively euphoric.

“Holy shit, Annie, I love you so much.”

His voice was watery and she could feel his tears on her skin, holding him closer was no hardship—especially not when she was beginning to cry herself.

As much as Annie didn’t want to move, she did have to clamber off Brock’s lap because the feeling in her legs started to disappear. Brock was reluctant but he stood up with her, cupping her face and kissing her breathlessly.

“Who have you told?” he asked, not sounding like he’d be upset by any answer she gave. She was certain nothing could ruin the blissful expression on his face.

“You. The dogs. Tulsa. I only peed on a stick; I haven’t even told a doctor yet.”

“This is—this is unreal, Annie,” he said, just before he kissed her again. Her legs were getting weaker with every kiss. “Should we get married?”

“I don’t need to be married. If you want to be married then we can but we can do this without a wedding.”

Brock’s arms wrapped around her waist, and he lifted her off her feet to spin her around. The commotion caused the dogs to bark and start chasing Annie’s feet, but Brock didn’t let her down.

Annie wasn’t even supposed to be in Florida with them.

About a week before the All-Star break, something had clawed at her and told her she needed to be there with them, so she re-arranged her plans to go to Disney World with her brother, his wife and their two kids:

While six months pregnant.

Brock had let it happen because of that fact, and told her to change his plans, too.

It became clear on the 30th of January exactly what that clawing feeling had been.

It was just the two of them at the hotel, Annie barely made it out of the room before retreating back inside and going back to bed and Bo having left early because of the calls he was getting.

Annie didn’t even know until Bo knocked on her door, waking her up and asking to be let in. The dejected look on his face let her know right away what had transpired during her nap.

“Want to know where I’m going?” he asked, tapping his phone against his hand.

“I guess.”

“Islanders.”

The bottom fell out of Annie’s stomach as a map of North America flew into her mind, drawing a thick red line between Vancouver and New York. That was something to deal with later.

“It’s January,” Annie chose to settle on. “Why the fuck are they trading anybody in January?”

“I don’t know, Ann.”

She stared at him, the map not leaving her mind. It was so far, further than he’d ever been before, and that in and of itself was terrifying.

“I don’t want to make this about me,” she said, furious at the tears welling up in her eyes, “but I’m going to because you’re supposed to be here for me and here after this baby’s born and Holly is supposed to help me. I can’t—I can’t do this without you. I’ve never been able to do anything without you.”

Her hands settled over her ever-growing and ever-present bump as she spoke. It had been a smooth pregnancy, all things considered—aside from some lethargy and the first trimester morning sickness, she had nothing to complain about.

It wasn’t even the birthing part she was particularly scared of.

The part that worried her the most was not having anyone around to help her—through the birth or the newborn stage. The part that was coming true in front of her eyes.

“You don’t need me,” Bo assured her, his hands on her shoulders as he stared her down in the most aggressively fond way. “If you need Holly, she’ll come back. You know that. And you have Brock, who is arguably the most important person you’re going to need.”

Annie huffed, childishly stomping her foot, “He’s going to be traded, too, so who the fuck knows.”

Bo sat her down on the bed, looking down at her as she imagined he did to Gunnar when he was getting a talking to. He told her, “If Brock does get traded, you’re not staying in Vancouver. You’ve told me all the plans you’ve got in case you have to move at the deadline.”

It was the truth, as difficult as she knew it would be. The contingencies had been in place almost since they found out, what with the trade rumours amping up with every passing day.

“If any old man in the league had any fucking decency maybe they would have traded him today when I’m six months pregnant and less fucking stressed.”

“Less stressed,” Bo laughed, throwing his head back. “Is that what you call this?”

Annie glared, her mouth pulling tight and her eyebrows doing the same. She stood, poked Bo in the chest and said, “I’m going to kick everybody’s ass between Vancouver and fucking Brooklyn. Including yours.”

Nobody had expected Annie’s baby bump to get quite so round. Holly had made a point of telling Annie that it wouldn’t get too big purely because Annie was small—in height and weight. Nobody she knew was making too many comments about it, but strangers passing on the street had no issue asking her when she was due because it must have been any moment. The looks on their faces when Annie said, through gritted teeth, that she was barely seven months along and they should mind their own business was only just enough to get her through.

Pregnancy had turned her into a stress eater, which may have been contributing to the unexpected size, and in the days leading up to the trade deadline she was eating more and more because she was trying to internalise her own stresses to avoid exacerbating Brock’s.

Up until four or five days before ethe deadline, it was impossible to separate Brock from his phone; every single buzz sent him reaching for it lightning fast only to be met with another, entirely unrelated trade, or somebody in his family’s group chat sending a cute photo. The idea of hiding his phone had tempted Annie more than once but she knew better than to add the stressing of missing anything to the mix.

Things died down in the final few days before the deadline, all the big trades were seemingly done and Brock had been promised that he was in Vancouver to stay; Annie didn’t trust those promises but they made Brock lighter and more carefree so she wouldn’t tell him what she thought.

The night before the deadline—the 2nd of March, on the back of a loss against Minnesota where not even his power play goal could take out the sting—Annie greeted Brock at the door.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” Brock said when he saw her, putting an end to the sneaking he’d been attempting.

“Slept all day in case you were up all night. Didn’t want you to be alone,” she said softly. She took his suit jacket from his arms and kissed him.

“You need sleep,” Brock argued as he wrapped her up and shuffled her out of the doorway. “You can’t stay up all night.”

“I can try.”

Brock’s smirk showed that he didn’t believe she could do it, so Annie settled on making him lie down with her in the hope that she could coax him into some rest.

He didn’t seem to be overly caught up in the deadline being so soon, happy to just lie beside her and stifle a laugh as she did her best to shuffle closer to him, inevitably neding some assistance to move the pillow that was supporting her bump but when the only thing between them was her stomach, she put her arm over his stomach and watched him with soft eyes as she started talking to him about their baby names shortlist.

Annie couldn’t say what time she fell asleep, or how long it took Brock to after her, but by the time they woke up Annie knew it was late. When she opened her eyes, unimpressed by the light that was filtering into the room from the poorly drawn blinds, Brock was smiling at her peacefully.

“What’s the time?” she asked, her voice hoarse and muffled by the pillow.

“Just before noon. I think I’m safe. We’re safe.”

A smile grew so large on Annie’s face that her cheeks started to hurt within seconds—somehow, through sheer willpower, she threw herself on top of Brock and started kissing his face. Brock’s arms tightened around her, keeping her secure on top of him, just letting the kisses happen.

“This means I win.”

“Win what?”

“Our baby is going to be so Canadian.”

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[prettytoxicrevolver]

Trade | Anthony Beauvillier

Requested? No I wish

Warnings? A fuck ton of angst but with a happy ending?

Summary: When Anthony gets traded to the Canucks, the future of your relationship becomes uncertain

Word Count: 1,940

The trade came as a shock. 

You had been sitting with your best friend, planning dinner and the rest of night plans when your phone started blowing up. You tried to ignore it at first, enjoying the minimal time you get with your friend but after your phone continued to ring off the hook repeatedly she told you to look. 

Firstly it was the tweet notification from the Islanders. Then a text from Anthony. Followed by the ESPN notifications and eventually several texts from several players, wags, coworkers, etc. 

“What’s up?” your best friend asks, clearly sensing a shift in your mood. 

“Anthony got traded to the Canucks,” you say, still not truly believing the words coming out of your mouth. 

“What!?” she yelps, running over to where you’re sitting in bed and yanking your phone out of your hand. 

She scrolls for a minute as you space out, trying so desperately to process the news. Anthony was being traded. To a team in a different country, three thousand miles away from where you would be. 

You’re snapped out of your daze when your phone drops to your bed with a silent thunk. You look over at your best friend and upon seeing the pity in your eyes you can’t help the tears streaming down without your permission. 

“Oh honey,” she says. She pulls you in and you cry on her shoulder, loud embarrassing sobs as the weight of the news finally settles and holds onto your chest like a ten pound weight. 

It feels like you cry for hours and hours, your best friend sitting there the entire time. She offers soft, kind, reassuring words to help calm you down. Why did this feel like the five stages of grief rolling through you over and over again? 

“I’ll be right back sweetheart,” you hear your best friend say. She moves from your embrace and you fall onto the bed, curling into a tight ball with tears falling messily over the side of your face. 

“Baby girl?” you hear. 

You lift your head and through the flood of tears and blurry vision, you see Beau standing in your doorway. 

“Oh Beau,” you say. You get up and move to him and his strong arms are around your waist in seconds. He rocks the two of you back and forth, one of his hands slowly tugging through your hair and rubbing your back in a perfect cycle. 

“I had no clue baby,” he whispers and you can hear the hurt in his voice as well. 

It suddenly hits you like a brick wall that this trade was worse for Tito than you could ever imagine for yourself. He has to pick up his entire life and move across the country, be away from you, and leave his best friend and the team he has worked his butt off for for years now. 

You pull back, looking up at Beau to find he had started to cry as well. Your hands slide from his neck to his cheeks and you wipe away the stray tears that are left. He leans into your touch, his lips coming to meet your palm in a soft kiss. 

“I’m so sorry my beautiful boy,” you whisper. 

The next three days are spent helping pack Tito’s stuff up and get it sent out to Vancouver, wrapping up any loose ends, and spending every second possible together. Giving Anthony three days was a blessing from the Canucks especially considering they originally wanted him on the first flight out of New York. 

You couldn’t sleep the night before his flight. You tossed and turned and had a rush of nightmares that left you restless for the remainder of the night. When you wake again, sunlight has started to peek through the curtains and you feel Tito’s heavy gaze on you. 

“Good morning mon amour,” he whispers. One hand comes up and carefully curls a piece of hair around his finger before releasing it and letting it rest behind your ear. His eyes trace the features of your face, memorizing the way your eyes stay half closed when you were sleepy, the small smile that rested there when you looked at him, the way your hair fans in a million directions when you lay down forming a halo around you. 

It feels like the morning happens in slow motion. It’s like your body was put on autopilot, knowing exactly what to do to survive while your brain hesitates due to all of the sadness clouding around you. You swear you don't become coherent until Tito stands before you at the security line. 

Your arms are crossed firmly across your chest, your lip quivers as you look at the man you love before you and you look away quickly trying not to cry. Tito keeps his hands in his pockets, it's like you both know that if you hug each other now, you might never let go. 

“Call me when you land?” you ask, trying desperately to act as if this is temporary. 

“Yeah darling. Get home safe,” he says. 

You take a deep breath, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around Titos middle and shoving your face into his chest. You couldn’t meet his eyes, if you did you’d do something embarrassing like ask him to stay. 

“I love you,” you say, squeezing him tight. He reciprocates, whispering the sentiment back before pulling away from you and turning without a second glance. 

The car ride is deafeningly quiet, you’re shocked still the entire time trying desperately not to let your emotions take over. Your body moves on its own accord, pulling you out of the car, trudging up to your apartment and shutting the door. 

The sound of your keys dropping onto the counter is what shocks you out of your state. You slide to the floor, tears falling faster than you can think and suddenly you’re a puddle of sadness and missing Tito and wondering how the hell you were going to make this work without him here. 

Tito has to work to make his body move away from you. He has to think through every step and every second to make it on the plane in time and off to Vancouver. He wipes away tears as he looks out the plane window that only takes him away from the one thing he wants. 

It takes six weeks before you and Anthony can have an actual facetime call. Not quick texts, not short phone calls that last less than a minute, but a real face to face connection for a longer period of time. 

When he picks up the phone, your gasp is quiet but audible enough that Anthony makes a face. It’s only been a little over a month, but everything seems to have changed. He started to grow out his beard, his hair a little longer and falling in waves, but his eyes are bright. He’s happy. 

“Mon amour,” he greets and your heart flutters at the pet name.

“Tell me everything,” you demand and Beau smiles. “How’s the team? What’s your apartment like? Is the coach nice?” 

Anthony tells you everything about the past six weeks and you’re grinning as you find out how well he’s been doing in his new job and his new home. 

“I wish I was back home next to you,” he says towards the end of his recap and your smile falters.

“Me too,” you admit quietly. 

You both try to continue the conversation after that, desperate to catch up and resume some normalcy in a relationship that seems to have blown up within the span of two months. 

“I’ll talk to you soon?” he asks and you nod. 

“I love you beau.” 

“I love you too.” 

The next few months are more painful than anything. 

Beau is attempting to fit into the team, working hard to improve his game and help them win as much as possible for the rest of the season. His issue with achieving that? He still looks for you in the crowd every night. 

He was losing you in the crowd quicker than he can imagine and it hurts that he’s struggling to remember the way you would scream and cheer when he scored. The way the fluorescents lit up your smiling face and while he was still living that dream for himself it was empty without you there. 

This sadness coupled with the fact he just wanted to celebrate a win with you has him calling you after a particularly good game for him. He fails to notice that while it’s only 10 pm for him, it was 1 am for you. 

“Hello?” you answer groggily. 

“Oh darling I’m so sorry I forgot,” Tito’s voice falls over your ears and you’re quick to sit up in bed and shake yourself awake. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Nothing I just,” he hesitates and you frown wishing you could see him. “I scored twice and got an assist and I’m just so excited and I wish you were here.” 

Your head falls, relieved that Tito was okay but you could feel a slice through your heart at his words. You wanted to be there, wanted to celebrate with him and show off the love of your life. You hated this distance. Hated it, hated it, hated it. 

“Oh honey that’s amazing,” you choke out quietly trying not to let your emotions overcome the joyous moment for your boy. 

“I should have never left,” Tito whispers out and both of your hearts tear a little more at his words. 

He can hear it in your voice, the quiet sighs, the hidden sniffles, and the fact that you’re no doubt crying halfway across the world and he can’t do anything about it. He should have never left you. He shouldn’t have caused this pain. 

“You didn’t have a choice babe,” you remind him and he nods even though you can’t see it. 

“Are we wasting time? Should,” he takes a deep breath trying to get out the next painful words. “Should we call it quits? I can’t keep doing this without you.” 

“Beau,” the word is a plea on your lips. Asking, begging him not to do this. 

“We only have two more months till you’re home. We can figure it out then but just wait okay? Don’t give up on this.” 

You’re twirling a pen around in your fingers, zoning out as you stare at the pile of work in front of you. 

“(y/n)?” your coworker asks. Your head snaps up to look at her and it occurs to you that it’s late and everyone has left. 

“Oh shit sorry,” you mutter out moving to get all of your stuff and start heading out. 

“Hello mon amour.” 

You’re dreaming. You absolutely have to be dreaming. He didn’t come home till tomorrow. You knew that because you had been practically counting down the seconds till he’d be back in the states, back in your life, back in your arms, till he was back. 

When you look up you’re more than happy to be wrong. 

“Anthony,” his name falls from your lips like a prayer. 

You’re both stepping quickly towards each other and when his arms come around you it’s like he never left in the first place. Everything has changed in the past six months since he left but none of it matters. Not when he was here, not when he was pressing kisses to your lips and keeping you so incredibly close it was impossible to get any nearer. 

“I’m home,” he says into your hair. “I’m home love.” 

[youcouldmakealife]

LBTE: Jared (149-150)

In which Jared is the last to find out about his sister's new boyfriend, and he takes it just as calmly as you'd expect.

If you would like to follow along the series page is here.

“Um,” Jared says, when he opens the front door of their apartment to find Bryce beaming right at him.

Like, right at him. Like if Jared had swung open the door without paying attention he might have smacked Bryce right in his beautiful face.

Literally ran to the door like a puppy hearing its human come home.

“I’m allowed to train again!” Bryce says.

“Like,” Jared says. “Very carefully?”

“Very carefully,” Bryce confirms, and then, as if he’s trying to completely undermine Jared’s confidence that he’ll take that advice seriously, bolts into the living room at high speed.

A puppy with the zoomies.

Jared catches “—sorry, had to tell Jared—“, which he thinks means Bryce literally dropped everything to tell him, everything presumably being a call with Elaine. Though it could be someone else, Jared supposes. Theoretically.

“—love you too, mom,” Bryce says, then reappears so quickly Jared thinks he bolted right back.

Zoom zoom. (To no one’s surprise, he did — albeit with ‘one sec I think Jared’s home’ first. Elaine didn’t mind)

“Come on!” Bryce says, and that’s how Jared caps off an entire day at the gym by going to another, closer gym, and trying not to helicopter husband, partly because they’re in public, and partly because Bryce might bite his head off if he gets between him and the equipment after a long absence.

Relationship with Jared over, now gym equipment is Bryce’s best friend.

Jared says nothing, even when a piece of penne lands on the carpet. Bryce is too happy about all the complaining he’s doing to deflate him. And it’s not like Jared’s worried Bryce is going to go hungry.

He does, however, make Bryce clean the pasta up, because if he didn’t he’s pretty sure Bryce would literally not even notice it was there. He has to do it again himself after Bryce does a half-assed job and then puts his nose right in his phone. Thank fuck it wasn’t a tomato based sauce or their carpet would be toast. Why do they even have a carpet? They’re clearly not responsible enough for one.

Seriously, carpet should have disqualified the place.

“Uh, J?” Bryce says. “You might want to check twitter?”

“Signing?” Jared asks on his way back from the kitchen. It’s getting around that time where some of the stragglers realise a contract-less season is imminent and take whatever offers are still available. That or teams realise they’re missing a key piece of the picture and start looking into what’s available and affordable. “Trade?”

“Um,” Bryce says, his whole body a wince, which is — concerning. “Just look?”

No fucking way Bryce is telling him, you can’t make him.

“Did they trade Gabe?” Jared asks.

They can’t trade Gabe. Gabe’s franchise, one of only two players from that Cup season still on the Canucks. He’s a fan favourite, and a sizeable contingent of their younger fans don’t remember a team without him. It’s pretty much an open secret he wants to spend his entire career in Vancouver, and that’s mutual. Also Stephen would fight management. Possibly literally.

Also Jared would be sad, so clearly it’s not allowed.

It has to be someone on the team who means more to Jared than they do to Bryce, considering it’s something Bryce thinks Jared needs to see for himself, which leaves Gabe and —

Literally it’s just Gabe.

Also Stephen, but Jared’s pretty sure Brian can’t trade him.

“Nobody’s traded!” Bryce says. “Just. You need to see it? Instead of me telling you about it?”

Not for a million dollars will Bryce tell him.

If people on the internet are talking about how hot they think Jared’s dad is again, he swears to god —

One of my favourite subplots that doesn’t make the main narrative — Don the DILF.

“Erin’s trending again,” Bryce says.

Jared’s sister trending on twitter is really not something that Jared expected to happen twice. Like, even in a big Canadian market, that’s getting slightly absurd for a the sister of a middle-six forward.

Imagine how she feels. (She again thinks it’s funny)

Bryce gently kicks him in the shin. “You might want to look it up.”

“No thanks,” Jared says.

Bryce kicks him again. “Seriously, though.”

“If I do will you stop kicking me?” Jared asks.

“Yeah,” Bryce says.

Please look this up out of your own volition so you won’t shoot Bryce Marcus, Messenger.

“J,” Bryce says. “He’s clearly not going to pick up.”

Jared hits ‘end’ and then ‘call’ for the fourth time.

Surely he will pick up the fourth time you call to yell at him.

“Maybe just leave a message?” Bryce suggests weakly.

“Are you fucking my sister?” Jared asks when the operator’s finished telling him the number he has dialled is currently unavailable, because Julius couldn’t even be bothered to set his voicemail message after literal years in Canada. “And pick up your fucking phone, Halla, I swear to god.”

Bryce regrets his suggestion.

“What,” he says.

“He’s probably not going to want to call you back?” Bryce says. “If you sound like that?”

“Nobody cares what Julius wants!” Jared says.

“Um,” Bryce says. “Are you — okay?”

Bryce increasingly realising Jared was completely blindsided by this and mentally rewinding to every time he thought Jared was just ignoring the relationship out of pettiness.

“You knew about this,” Jared says with dawning realisation.

Bryce looks shifty.

“You knew,” Jared says. “And you let me find out from twitter.”

“I didn’t know know,” Bryce says.

They have not been formally told, but nobody has been hiding this from them. See: several parts ago, when Erin was visiting a friend in Edmonton (nobody told Jared it was a university friend, as he stated, Jared just assumed it must be because he knows Erin didn’t keep in touch with anyone from high school or earlier. Neither Matheson sibling is a big friend maker)

“Jared,” Bryce says, then, from the other side of a slammed door, “Hey, that’s my room!”

Jared is sulking, so by all rights the sulking room now belongs to him.

He’d ask if the picture was misinterpreted, like it was with Bryce, but there really aren’t that many interpretations for a kiss. Sure, some cultures greet one another with kisses, but as far as Jared is aware, the Finns are not one of them, and neither are the Mathesons.

Ah yes, the famed Matheson culture. Signs of affection are ribbing, mockery, and snide.

And even if a kiss on the mouth was a Finnish greeting, it’d be one Julius would pointedly not do. Julius doesn’t like participating in things.

This is so accurate but hilarious from Jared because it’s one of the reasons they get along so well.

He’s not your liney anymore. Erin replies. P sure both your current lineys are already taken.

Also he’s literally on a rival team now? That’s like the anti-liney.

Ene-liney.

So you’re not denying it. Jared texts. He originally ended the text an exclamation mark, but that looked too dramatic. He’s fine. He’s chill.

So you’re not denying it!

Is this a thing? Jared writes, after deleting the two extra question marks that somehow popped up.

Is this a thing???

How long has this been a thing? Jared asks.

Officially? Like two weeks.

Before this there was some hanging out. But the euphemism-y kind of hanging out. And some texting while Julius was away. But Julius came back from Finland early, even before it was ‘officially’, which makes it a full-on Thing.

Unofficially? Jared asks.

Idk. You know how it is, Erin replies.

Jared does not know how it is. He can’t even begin to guess what she’s referring to, he has so little awareness of how it is. He met Bryce and that was it for him. Well. Give or take a few weeks and a minor grudge.

Oh we’re calling it a minor grudge now?

Wait no you don’t you were engaged at my age hahaha

Erin obviously knows Jared was engaged at nineteen, and gave him shit for it at the time (her ‘I can’t believe you’re going to be a child bride’ is one of my favourite lines in the entire series) but now that she’s nineteen herself?

His phone lights up with another text, which is just hahahahahaha and crying laughing emojis.

She’s dying what were they THINKING.

“Can I come in?” Bryce asks meekly.

“Fine,” Jared says, since it’s not like he’s talking to Erin anymore. Though he doesn’t know why Bryce would want to. This is the sulking room, and Bryce doesn’t seem sulky about this at all.

Only Big Sulky Babies allowed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you?” Bryce says, perching on the bed beside Jared as Jared tries to forcibly wipe his brain clean. “I just — kind of thought it was something we both knew but we were like, pretending we didn’t know so you could ignore it forever.”

Look at Bryce supportively pretend something doesn’t exist because he fears for Jared’s sanity.

“Don and I are cool now,” Bryce says. “Sort of. Mostly. He hasn’t insulted me to my face in like – a while. Huh. That’s a good sign.”

Don did mean it about Bryce being a member of the family after he married Jared. You don’t insult family. Mock? Sure. Tease? Absolutely. But insult? Absolutely not.

“Why didn’t someone actually say ‘hey Jared, you do know this is a thing, right?’” Jared asks. His immediate family and Julius all know that Jared can be, well —

Someone should have made sure he was aware, is the point.

“I honestly think Erin just wanted to see how long it’d take you to figure it out if no one actually said ‘hey Jared, Erin and Julius are dating’,” Bryce says. “And apparently the answer was a picture on twitter?”

Everyone assumed Jared already knew and was pointedly ignoring it. Except Erin. She knew that Jared would yell at her or Julius when he knew, and therefore he was still in the dark.

Bryce looks shifty again. “Ash told me that Erin said that?”

Which means Ash knows, obviously. And that Ash and Bryce have discussed this. So Chaz must know. And Maia. Not that babies know things, just —

Don’t worry, Jared, I promise Maia didn’t know before you.

Fucking Oilers fans found out about this before Jared did. Flames fans did.

He doesn’t know why, but the fact Flames fans knew this before Jared did makes this so much worse than if it was just Oilers fans.

This is simultaneously a weird thing to get stuck on, yet also totally understandable. Oilers fans are Julius fans. Flames fans are Julius haters. But also may remember Erin from Bryce drama. Also fuck Flames fans, all Jared’s homies hate Flames fans.

Jared’s phone buzzes from where he tossed it after the last emoji round. He bets it’s more hahahahas. Possibly some skulls. Erin likes to die laughing.

She can’t hahaha any longer, she’s already dead from laughing.

150. Affront

Jared thinks people are supposed to be afraid of death. He’s pretty sure that’s common, reasonable. When threatened with death, people should feel fear. But what is Julius Halla doing right now? He’s laughing. At Jared.

He basically lived with you, Jared, he knows just how little true bite there is in you.

“Stop laughing,” Jared hisses. “You traitor.”

“Who am I a traitor to,” Julius says. He sounds vaguely curious, like someone who’s been accused of something ludicrous, and is interested to see how you came to that conclusion. Which is rich, for a traitor.

But who is he a traitor TO, Jared?

“Me!” Jared says. “And friendship! And lineys! And — there’s a code!”

I do enjoy Jared continually using Julius being his liney as a reason when they have now been divisional rivals longer than they were ever linemates.

“You think it’s the definition of toxic masculinity,” Julius says. “And that it frequently treats women as objects and prizes to be won, and also acts like showing affection towards your friends is gay. And you’re gay, and you think showing affection is disgusting, so obviously there is no connection.”

He listens <3

“She’s like, ten!” Jared says. “She’s way too young for you.”

Julius is very quiet. “How much older than you is—“

There’s about a two and a half year age difference between Erin and Julius. Bryce and Jared’s is just shy of four years. As Julius well knows, the bastard.

“Eating my food and dating my sister,” Jared says. “Who is a child.”

“How old were you when you got engaged?” Julius asks.

Jared can only an inarticulate sound of rage in answer, because Julius knows exactly how old he was when he got engaged.

The answer is ‘exactly as old as Erin is now’. As Julius is well aware, the BASTARD. Also, a missing word, my bad.

“Wait,” Jared says, suddenly horrified. More horrified. “You’re not engaged, are you?”

“No!” Julius says, sounding equally horrified.

This question isn’t the reason Julius doesn’t want to get married, but it certainly did not help.

“How did this even happen,” Jared moans. “Wait. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know anything. Why didn’t you tell me.”

This feels like a trick question.

“I wanted to wait to tell you in person,” Julius says. “Because I was concerned you’d be, well. You know.”

People keep telling Jared he knows things that he does not know.

“I don’t know,” he says.

“Hysterical,” Julius says.

“I am not hysterical!” Jared says.

This might be more believable if Jared hadn’t shrieked that last bit.

The fact Bryce bursts out laughing in the living room contradicts that statement, but Julius can’t hear him. And maybe it’s coincidental laughter. Maybe Bryce is watching something funny. Because Jared is not hysterical.

“Wait, Erin didn’t think I’d be hysterical?” Jared says.

Look, Jared may deny he’s hysterical, but also — why didn’t Erin think he’d be hysterical? Even if he isn’t. Because he is not. But also — really?

For all of Erin’s many…many…many faults, an inability to predict Jared’s behaviour is unfortunately not one of them. She used her predictive ability for blackmail purposes way too much when they were younger, always caught him in the act when he was breaking the few house rules he ever broke then threatened to snitch if Jared didn’t do shit for her. He made her so many grilled cheese sandwiches. To this day he associates grilled cheese with smug smiles and extortion.

Admission of hysteria. Also Jared makes an excellent grilled cheese sandwich. Worth surveillance for blackmail purposes for sure.

“But I was in Finland at the beginning of summer,” Julius says. “And then Bryce injured his shoulder, and you went to Vancouver, and there was no good time. And then twitter.”

Julius, if asked, would say they were a thing months earlier than Erin would. But they had not yet defined the relationship.

“She’s fine,” Julius says. “She thinks it’s funny.”

He sounds faintly scandalised. Which is understandable, because it’s not funny.

“Did you tell her it’s not funny,” Jared says.

“I did,” Julius says. “She says she gets to decide if it’s funny or not.”

“But it’s not funny,” Jared says.

“I know,” Julius says.

Counterpoint from Erin: it’s fucking hilarious, you’re both just boring.

“Don’t like —“ Jared says, then pauses, because there are a lot of different demands warring in him right now. “That’s my sister, Halla.”

“I know,” Julius says. “Would it help if I told you I have…strong…feelings—“

“Gross,” Jared says. “Stop talking.”

“Okay,” Julius says, sounding greatly relieved.

I love their friendship. Every time feelings are involved they both react like cats getting sprayed with water.

“No,” Jared says. “Obviously it is. Did you know that they were together?”

There’s a silence.

“Mom?” Jared says.

“…did you not?” his mom asks. “Jared!”

NOBODY was hiding this from Jared. Nobody.

“Erin’s spent more time in Edmonton than Calgary since her semester ended,” mom says.

“She has a friend there,” Jared says, then, “Oh.”

Yes.

There's only one direct reference to Erin and Julius’ relationship before Jared finds out in the series, because I had to ride a careful line there, as Jared hadn’t noticed anything, so his POV wouldn’t really reflect the information he wasn’t paying attention to.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jared demands. ‘Friend’ is not telling him. ‘Friend’ is a euphemism you use when the other person already knows.

“I thought you knew!” his mom says. “And were just immaturely pretending that as long as you didn’t acknowledge it then it wasn’t actually happening!”

Jared thinks it might be a concerning sign that the two people who know him best both assume he thinks that if he pretends something hard enough, it won’t happen.

Yes that might indicate something about you, Jared.

“Yes!” Jared says. “Why aren’t you mad about this? Your daughter’s dating a hockey player. A hockey player. And you’re letting her?”

“You’re a hockey player, Jared,” his mom says. “As is your husband. And literally all of your friends.”

This isn’t exactly Grace’s mom upon finding out she was dating Raf.

“That’s just people in general, sweetie,” his mom says. “And we know Julius is a nice young man.”

“He is not,” Jared says. Julius is many things, but he is not nice.

“You know what I mean by nice, Jared,” his mom says.

He’s not a nice boy, but he is a good one. Also he speaks Matheson quite fluently.

“You can’t just assume that I like him.”

“Jared,” his mom says. “You love that boy. You brought him home for Christmas.”

“Out of the kindness of my heart,” Jared says.

“You brought home someone you don’t like for Christmas out of the kindness of your heart,” his mom says. “And then you invited him to your wedding. As one of the handful of guests who wasn’t immediately related to you or Bryce. Out of the kindness of your heart.”

Jared, we all know there is not even close to that much kindness in your heart.

“Obviously you like him, or he wouldn’t be one of your best friends,” his mom says. “And since you’re choosy about who you’re friends with, that means a lot. You have extremely good taste in friends, when you actually bother to make them.”

Jared picks at the hem of his shorts.

Jared thinks it’s quite rude for his mom to use facts and reason against him when he is intent on being unreasonable.

“Gross, love,” Jared says.

“I won’t tell Erin you love her, I promise,” his mom says.

“Good,” Jared says. “Ew.”

How dare anyone say he loves his (demon) sister.

“Jared,” his mom says. “Are you making this all about you?”

“No,” Jared says.

“Jared,” his mom says.

“Well it’s a little bit about me, isn’t it!” Jared says. “He’s my friend. And liney.”

“Former liney,” his mom says. Everyone’s so fixated on that part. Liney status can last past being teammates. Look at Jared and Chaz: linemates for life. Even though Bryce subsequently stole Chaz a little, despite the fact they played on completely different lines on the Flames. Not that it’s stealing. Couples share.

Jared can share. Look at how good Jared is at sharing. He only holds Bryce befriending Chaz against him a little, years down the line. That’s sharing.

Eventually Julius is going to get exposed to Erin’s sparkling personality.

He’s had some exposure therapy, rooming with Jared.

Jared would mention that long-distance relationships are highly prone to failure, but he’s pretty sure mom would bring up how much of his relationship with Bryce involved long-distance, and Jared is frankly sick of people reminding him of his own extremely successful relationship, and not letting him be hypocritical.

What bullshit.

He hates arguing with his mom. It’s like arguing with himself, except worse, because at least when he argues with himself, he always technically wins.

The best kind of argument.

“You remind me so much of your dad right now,” mom says.

“Mom!” Jared says.

“A little Don in the making,” his mom says. “He’d be so proud.”

Jared tries to tell her to take it back, but all he can manage is an inarticulate sound of rage. Again.

The cruelest thing you could say to him.

“I got Thai from that place on Burrard you really like,” Bryce says, then, all in a rush, “Sorry for assuming you knew about Julius and Erin and were just pretending you didn’t instead of like, actually not knowing. If I knew you actually didn’t know I would have told you. Or made Erin tell you because it wouldn’t be my place to tell you or. Are you mad at me?”

Sala Thai, for anyone curious. Also, poor Bryce. He really did think Jared knew.

“Did you get me soup to shut me up?” Jared asks.

“I got you it because it’s your favourite?” Bryce says, looking both hurt and confused.

Poor, poor Bryce.

“—and doesn’t he realise what Erin’s like?” Jared says. “Because he is going to be unpleasantly surprised when he gets to know her a little better.”

“Uh,” Bryce says. “I think he’s had a pretty good preview of what Erin’s like?”

BRYCE, NO. I mean, you are 100% correct, but NO.

“We are nothing alike,” Jared says.

“Erin made the exact same face when I said that,” Bryce says. “Like. That’s almost creepy.”

“You’ve said this to her?” Jared says.

“Yeah, because you’re both—“ Bryce says, then, “Ow! She did that too!”

Why do Mathesons keep smacking Bryce’s arm when he tells them the truth?

“We’re nothing alike,” Jared mutters.

Bryce says nothing, but he’s got this look on his face like ‘I’m humouring you right now by not arguing, but you know and I know that you’re full of shit’.

“Stop — looking at me with that face,” Jared says.

Bryce huffs out a laugh. “Erin said—“

Jared can’t hear him.

“Jared,” Bryce says, muffled. “Jared, I know you can hear me.”

Jared cannot.

Erin wasn’t immature enough to put her hands over her ears though, that one’s all Jared.

“Take it back,” Jared says.

“No,” Bryce says. “I’m not pretending something isn’t true just because you don’t like it, that’s ridiculous.”

Jared picks up his noodles.

“I got you soup,” Bryce says sadly as Jared stomps right back to the sulking room, this time with dinner.

Poor, poor Bryce.

[ilyasorokinn]

leo pettersson's great all-star adventure ― elias pettersson

note, the first of my all-star works because i'm slow so idk when the svech fic will be out but i'm working on it. also, this fic is part of the "home with the petterssons" series. check out this masterlist for more. summary, leo pettersson has the time of his life at his first all-star game. warnings, kids/children word count, 1327 words

you and elias had been to all-star games before, but this one would be different. leo and alicia were coming along with you. leo was excited but alicia was still too young to understand, but she did understand she was going on vacation which was exciting.

brock volunteered to tag along on your trip, which you accepted. he got dragged from disneyworld to fla live arena with you. he even entertained both kids on the plane while you and elias took some alone time and crashed on the 3-hour plane ride.

"we really owe you for this one," you commented as you got alicia dressed for the skills competition day, and he got leo dressed.

elias had already left, so brock being there really helped, "i get to spend time with my favorite little petey's. that's all the reward i need."

"still, you could partying it up in aruba or something, and you decided to spend it with my children in florida. i appreciate it, we both do."

"you're my family." you both shared a smile.

when you arrived at the arena, many fans stopped to take pictures with brock, which you had expected, so you made your way down to the tunnel where the locker room was and where you knew elias would be.

"uncle bo!" leo jumped up and down when he saw bo horvat. he hesitated when he saw bo wearing an islanders logo.

"hi, buddy." bo bent down and greeted him, "how was disneyworld?"

"fun." leo then went on to tell bo every single detail of your trip from when brock accidentally ordered 10 bottles of water to when elias got on a ride without you all cause he thought you were following him.

"wow, sounds like you guys had fun. did aly have fun, too?"

"yeah, she got to ride all the kiddy rides, but i rode all the big kid rides." leo boasted.

"whoa, you're a big boy now." bo's eyes widened.

"why're you wearing that?" leo's nose scrunched.

"well, you see," bo looked up at you nervously, "i got traded."

"traded?" leo asked.

"yeah, the islanders." bo nodded.

leo frowned, "but you'll still come visit, right?"

"of course." bo nodded, the smile finding it's way back onto his face.

you hummed, "that was easier than i thought it would be."

"i'll see you guys out there. by aly." he ran a careful hand through alicia's hair before heading down the hallway.

you waited a little longer for elias to come out and luckily, players were coming out, and mitch marner came out and started talking to leo, distracting him.

he even signed a puck for leo, which leo clutched to his chest like a prized possession, "will you keep it safe for me, mama?"

"of course." you nodded, slipping it into your bag and showing him the spot so he knew it would be safe.

elias walked out in the retro canucks jersey and a canucks hat, "papa!" leo exclaimed, rushing over to his father.

"hi, leo." he greeted, bending down and picking up leo, "were you good for mama and uncle b?"

"i met mitch marner and he gave me a puck!"

"wow, really?"

"and i saw uncle bo."

"did you?"

"he got traded. did you know that?"

"i did, yeah." elias nodded, nervously.

"but he promised he would come and visit us." leo added.

elias nodded, "now, do you wanna sit in the stands with mama, aly and brock or do you want to stay with me down on the ice?"

"will i get to sit next to hughes?" leo asked.

you and elias laughed, "yeah, i'll see what i can do."

you found your seat very easily due to brock waving you down like a madman the moment he saw you. you sat down and your eyes darted around the ice, trying to find your son.

"he's over there." brock pointed to the bench where leo was sitting happily in between jack hughes and andrei svechnikov, elias standing in front of him, wearing a hockey helmet, pads, a jersey, and hockey pants.

"oh, dear," you muttered.

leo spotted you somehow in the crowd and waved to you like crazy. you laughed, waving back, and waving alicia's little hand back at him, which made him giggle.

"look who it is, aly." you looked down at her face, before looking back up at leo.

"leo!" she squealed.

while sitting over on the bench, leo got to meet tons of new players. he got to sit next to gunner and all hi favorite players, "papa." leo called out to his father.

elias skated over, "what?" elias smiled.

"i met sid and mackinnon." the smile on his face was so big, it warmed elias' heart.

"wow, that's so cool." elias' eyes widened as he listened to his son's recap of his day so far, "i'm so glad you're having fun." he leaned over the wall of the bench and kissed leo's head, both of the completely unaware of the various cameras on them, taking photos.

as the night dragged on, leo found himself on the ice, playing with few of the other kids, amongst them were little ovi, who stole the show, one of taresenko's kids and a few other kids.

leo watched excitedly, pausing his game with the other kids, to watch elias. elias got ready, taking his stick before skating up fast and shooting the puck.

he skated in a circle before checking his score. 100.8 mph. he looked over at leo, who gave him a big smile and a thumbs up. elias gave him a thumbs up back before getting into position for his second shot.

he skated up to the puck and shot it into the net. it took a second for the numbers to pop up, but when they did, a collective gasp could be heard around the arena.

103.2.

and he was hard to beat. the other guys went after him but missed him by only a little. once he was crowned king of the challenge, pk pulled him aside for a quick interview.

halfway through the interview, leo skated over and hugged his dad's leg. elias let out a laugh as he stumbled forward a bit, but continued what he was saying, "i just wanted to beat that today, so yeah, very happy with it." he ran a hand through leo's hair, glancing down at him.

pk smiled too, "last question, how do you shoot 103? what's your secret?" he asked.

"i lay all my weight into it, so yeah." elias smiled.

"all right, well it's a lot of weight. congratulations." elias nodded before pk turned back to face the camera, "elias pettersson, hardest shot." elias beamed happily as he bent down to pick up leo and hold him.

"what'd you think?" elias asked.

"so cool." leo answered enthusiastically.

the next day, you were seated in the stands, leo sitting inbetween you and brock while alicia sat on your lap for the all-star game tournament.

leo and alicia were both repping the retro canucks jerseys with their last names and their dad's number. as well as their number '40' beanies.

"from the vancouver canucks, elias pettersson!" leo stood up in his chair and clapped.

"that's papa!" leo hollered, jumping up in his seat.

"that's right." brock smiled.

the firt period was almost up. there were less than 3 minutes on the clock and puck was down on the other side of the ice. fiala shot it out and got it away from the net.

fiala got it, skating further away from the net and shooting it up to elias who was further up the ice. elias skated forward, then passed it to bo.

bo skated right up to the. net and looked like he was gonna shoot it. he, instead, passed it over to elias, who was by his side and shot it. leo started cheering while you and brock shared a sad look.

-

my taglist: @mitch-slap @kolsmikaelson @ashleymarine @typical-simplelove @kidlnthedark @bowen-power @nhlrbs @lam-ila @jostystyles @puckinrightschicagoo @stars-canucks @iwantahockeyhimbo @2manytabsopen @nicohischierz @calermakar08 @hamilton160 @Pierrelucduboiis @thescooby-gang @huggybearmylove43 @sammysworldddd @corneliaskates @mista-svech @paintlavillered @samanthasgone @hockeyboysarehot @maximoff-xmen @nicoleloveshockey @thedukes-56-5 @nickblankenburgg @andynhl617727 @emma117717 @talksoprettyjjx @hockeyunits @sidcrosbyspuck @tdd2323 @dumbxblond3 @consflame @kaydenissleepy @Yagetintoit @seventieswhore @michellekirby30 @jamieeboulos @Coffeeandteaandflowers @bibella8swan @cuttergauth @boqvistsbabe @sophia-bordeleau @plds2000 @luca-fantilli @madison-nhl @jayda12 @lifeofpriya @beccaiscold

add yourself to my taglist!

[hopetorun]

🎤 maggie with the cup final in play, i have ogwacs on the brain. who are your guys who haven't won that you would most love to see get one before all is said and done? we won't define an ogwac as strictly as most, so i'd say like. if we feel like they've been around forever and they're like 30 at least we can call them an ogwac for this exercise!

oh gosh!!!! there's such an assortment of guys that i've been fond of over the years for various and sundry reasons so in no particular order of fondness but starting with oh let's say the strongest contender on the list

pomo!! you didn't say i could include non-players but i am anyway, i think he's earned the title. two scfs more than twenty years apart gets you on my list

jeff skinner revenge tour. i don't think this requires explaining. i can't believe i have to root for the sabres but christ. if there's anyone in the league who deserves it. my only comfort here is that the previous record holder for most gp without any playoff games got traded to a contender as a deadline rental and promptly won the cup that year. only good thing the p*ns have ever done for me.

taylor hall. he's one of my longest-tenured favorite guys and like. man what a rough go of it he's had since 2018. also before 2018. but i had such a blast watching him when i was first getting into hockey and i think he deserves nice things.

jordan eberle. he was never quite the same level of special guy for me but i would truly be so stoked. kr*ken stop being cowards and make him captain.

justin faulk. one of my guys!! not on the blues though. i would bust out my old extremely stained faulk jersey in his honor!

someone on twitter pointed out that if the cats win, oel will be the person player to win the cup while on the canucks payroll which i do unfortunately think is very funny. anyway i love a comeback story AND that man did his time in the wars (coyotes org) so i think that would be a lovely cap on a rough few years

honestly most of the core players from the sharks mid-teens teams. some exceptions apply. that team was so bananas good for so long and not only did they never win, i don't think any of them have even gone on to successfully cup chase anywhere else? rough. i think pavs' likely retirement leaves burns as the only guy who was really there for all of it, assuming @moregraceful told me correctly that couture is probably a perpetual LTIR guy now, and burns took a step back this season in a way that has me wondering if father time is finally coming for him. anyway it's a bummer. and on that note

erik karlsson. god i can't root for the p*ns for it but i've been fond of him for so long! yet another man who has been in the wars. one of us, etc

claude giroux. because i've had to see that goddamn quote about how he thought he'd have plenty more chances at the cup back in 2010 and he's literally never even made it back to the final. good god man

john hock. i've enjoyed his work for years (he's actually the reason the flames ended up as one of my higher ranked sure i'll put that game on teams)

dylan larkin is only 27 but like. spiritually.

i would love for sam gagner to cap his baffling, delightful resume with a cup. but not this year.

roman josi. i was hardcore pulling for the preds the season they made the final 😭

yes i did go through every roster for this. yes i did find several old guys without cups where i was like, no i want him to stay that way.

[sc0tters]

Out of It | Mat Barzal

summary: as your relationship with Tito finally hits a breaking point, what happens when Mat is there to pick up your pieces?

request: yes/no

warnings: cheating, failed relationship, drinking, allusions to sex, swearing.

word count: 3.2k

authors note: Kei said I could use the chaotic ending so I did, probably means we’re gonna have to have a part 2 (let me know if you want it). Request said something sad for Tito but happy for Mat and this is what my mind came up with. I actually enjoyed writing this one a lot so I hope you all enjoy reading it! But also don’t cheat on your partners, that’s very fucked up!

part two | part three

Things hadn’t been good for months.

When Anthony was first traded to the Canucks your boyfriend of three years always just assumed that you would join him. But you didn’t, your entire working career was spent in New York building up the your name and you weren’t ready to leave it for some city in Vancouver without the guarantee of a job waiting for you.

That seemed to be the first sign that things were changing as the boy took it as you not loving him.

Tito slammed his hands against your kitchen counter “do you ever support me in this move?” The man groaned in frustration making you taken aback by his outburst.

The accusation hurt you “of course I do.” You yelled back making his irritated tone “the fact that you think I’m gonna pack my life up at the drop of a hat makes me question how you feel about me though.” You crossed your arms sending him a glare.

This argument had gone on for the last fifteen minutes and there was still no clear sign of the end of this argument “look I can’t live in Vancouver but I can split my time between the two cities.” You offered growing tired of the way this was continuing to drag on.

But Anthony didn’t like that offer, in fact that almost felt worse than you just staying in New York “don’t bother.” He sighed pushing past you.

The hockey player moved towards the door “where are you going?” You croaked feeling your throat grow tight “I’ll spend the night with Mat.” Anthony sighed grabbing his shoes from the rack.

Your feet pulled you to the door “we don’t go to bed angry,” you reminded him “you promise.” Tears began rolling down your cheeks as you felt like you were loosing the love of your life “I’ll be back in the morning.” The boy mumbled kissing your forehead.

His lips left their print on your skin before he walked out of the apartment leaving you alone.

You two never actually spoke about that argument again, instead just choosing to ignore the fact that for the first time since you two moved in together Anthony didn’t sleep at home when he was in New York.

It felt like it was meant to be the one anomaly in your relationship or at least until February hit. Valentine’s Day you were meant to be in Vancouver with flights booked and everything but when a last minute meeting came up you had to pull out. Much to the annoyance of Anthony though.

Thinking you were doing the right thing you told him to go enjoy the dinner reservations he made. But after your long day of work when you came home the last thing you expected to see was the rumour mill that twitter made talking about how Anthony had a new girlfriend.

She was taller than you and looked like a blonde supermodel. Through frustration you grumbled something to yourself before you dialled in your boyfriends number “hey y/n!” Anthony was always good about picking up on the first or second ring “yeah I’ll be done in a sec,” he added clearly talking to someone on his side of the call.

You never liked admitting that you felt insecure in your relationship, but how could you not when you were with some hotshot hockey player? It also wasn’t helped by the fact that he lived 3 hours behind you and in a different country “don’t tell me she’s there,” you choked on the words as tears formed in your eyes.

Anthony clicked his tongue hearing the soft whimper you let out “who baby?” His nickname always had you melting into his hand but now you felt repulsed by it “that girl-“ your eyebrows knitted together as you thought the boy was playing tricks on you acting all oblivious.

The hockey player cut you off “told you that Twitter isn’t good for you.” His reminder felt condescending as you sat down feeing like you were having his lecture in person “why are they all talking about it?” Your voice was soft as you wiped your cheek with the back of your hand to clean the tears away from you.

He almost forgot he was on the phone to you as he stared at the girl who was on his couch pointing at her watch to signal that they were late “when she realised that we both had no plans tonight I said she should come with me.” Tito explained leaving you silent as he wasn’t denying that he spent the night with this bombshell of a girl “she’s just a friend though baby you got nothing to worry about.” Somehow his attempt to comfort you only made your nerves stick out more.

You tried to formulate a coherent sentence as you felt stupid for getting all upset “look I’ve got a few days off next week, why don’t I come see you?” He proposed causing that stupid love drunk smile to form on your face “I’d like that a lot.” You nodded missing your boyfriend now more than ever.

From the moment he arrived in New York you two could feel that something was different. As you invited some of his favourite old teammates over for dinner you felt relieved that you weren’t having to spend the night alone with him.

But of course that sense of peace had to be disturbed “baby why don’t you leave those for the morning?” You asked seeing Anthony’s back towards you as you entered the kitchen.

If there was one thing that usually fixed your problems it was sex. Sure that sounded stupid and like you were both teenagers, but as a couple your favourite way to end even the smallest of fights as with sex.

Which is why you thought it was the fix this problem needed “I want to wake up to a clean kitchen.” The Canadian always felt this rewarding feeling whenever he got to see an empty set of sinks in the morning.

You decided to try a little harder as you walked over to him “think I’ve got something a little more fun for you to do before that though.” You mumbled letting your hands slide up the front of his shirt.

That only seemed to piss him off “Jesus y/n let me finish the fucking-” the moment he began lashing out you stepped back keeping your lips shut until he spun around to look at you.

It didn’t take his eyes long to make their way down your body as you tied the string around your robe up clearly deciding that it wasn’t right for tonight “oh,” Anthony’s voice was soft as he realised that you were wearing his favourite lingerie.

The set was something you bought when he was on a long road trip once and you sent him pictures of each set you tried on in the store and when he picked the blue set you went to the airport to pick him up in a coat with nothing on underneath besides for that new set “forget it.” You rolled your eyes now feeling embarrassed as you turned around heading back to your bedroom where you sat on your bed for fifteen minutes waiting for him to come after you.

But he never did and you felt like an idiot.

April came around and you were now onto month four of feeling like something was wrong but you never felt confident enough to talk to Anthony about it so instead you let your relationship get to the worst it had ever been. Excuses were made each time one of you was meant to see the other and as the time between phone calls grew, the amount of fight you put up to see the other person decreased.

Tonight you were going out with some of the guys from the Islanders team. Mat invited you along as they were celebrating their place in the playoff “I know they are your friends.” You rolled your eyes at the phone call as Anthony couldn’t understand how his best friend invited you along.

It was somewhat amusing because Mat was the one who introduced you to your boyfriend “I’m going to support the boys okay?” You heard a knock at the door making you open it.

A smile formed on your face seeing older Canadian as you ushered him inside motioning to him to keep quiet as you were on the phone “yes I’ll let you know when I’m home.” It sounded like you were talking to a parent rather than your boyfriend.

Mat made himself comfortable on your couch as his spread his legs leaning into the soft fabric “I’m going to go now.” And with that you hung up. It irritated you how the first time he called you in over a month was because one of his old teammates mentioned that he was seeing you tonight “you okay kid?” Mat asked furrowing his eyebrows.

Despite the fact that there was only a two year age gap between you both when he met you, you were a freshman in college in your Maple Leafs jersey as you willingly spent your morning in a cafe arguing with the Islander player about how the Canadian team was better. Mat would never admit this to you or Anthony but he thought you were hot, that’s why he invited you to the game when the Maple Leafs came to visit. Why he scored a goal and pointed right up to the box where you sat, but even more so why he scored three goals. But no matter how hard Mat tried to impress you, it was no match against Anthony’s soft smile that he sent you making you weak in the knees.

You sighed sitting next to him “Tito is mad at me again.” You mumbled fiddling with the bracelet that the older boy gave you for your twenty first, the piece of jewellery that you now never take off.

Mat slipped his hand onto your knee giving it a squeeze “don’t worry about him.” The Canadian wanted to act like his crush on you had diminished over the years but when you called him in tears because you realised that you were drowning your sorrows in too much Chinese food for one person to ear during Anthony’s first night in Vancouver. The speed Mat drove across the city going through each red light told him otherwise.

Having him around always comforted you “think I just need to let loose tonight.” You mumbled running your hand through your hair pushing it back unintentionally revealing your collar bones that were highlighted by the low cut of your dress “finally give you a reason to keep up with me.” Mat always drank faster than you as you wrote it down to his lack of a college career where he never got the chance to grow out of it.

You rolled your eyes letting out a laugh “think you’ll be keeping up with me tonight.” You mumbled looking down at your phone to see the time “we’re late,” you groaned quickly getting up. Mat followed your actions with a smile “only means we have to make up for the lost time.” He pointed out making you laugh.

Oh how pretty that sound was.

The bar was packed full of players and their partners with you being the only plus one without a romantic connection to the team. You had practically drunk your way through the bar as the wags believed that you were making up for lost time after you turned down each of their offers to join them on girls night since Anthony left. It was stupid sure, but you always felt out of place when you were with them, so you thought that you’d feel worse without your boyfriend there.

But instead you surprisingly felt like you fitted in as Mat’s arm snaked around your waist “you want another one?” He asked motioning to your empty glass.

The girls had smirks on their faces as they watched your cheeks turn pink feeling his breath on your neck “I’ll come!” You blurted out making them bite the inside of their cheeks to hold in the giggles.

Whilst everyone thought you would marry Anthony, it made all of the girls happy to see you smile and until you or Mat did anything that crossed a line. They didn’t see the point in telling Anthony that his friend was taking care of his girlfriend.

Because to them everything that Mat and you did was friendly, the touches, the smiles, the looks. But what none of them knew was how each of your heart rates increased at the mere thought of the other. Mat locked his hand into yours as he pulled you through the crowd “two refills please.” He asked the bartender with his signature smile.

When the hockey player turned to you he realised you had been staring “what are you thinking about kid?” Mat’s voice was soft as he sat you in the barstool in front of him “how bad would it be if we left?” You cocked your head staring at his Hazel orbs that seemed to be locked into your soul.

Your question made Mat laugh “you had enough?” He frowned wanting to have more of your company for longer. You were quick to shake your head “no of course not,” your cheeks turned pink as you panicked “I just want ice cream and some vodka right now.” The pairing was weird but it seemed to be the only thing going through your mind “well it’s a good thing that I have both of those in my apartment then isn’t it?” His comment made your eyes light up with excitement.

Without thinking he held his hand out to you “they’re all so drunk I don’t think they’ll notice us leave.” Mat mumbled causing you to nod as he pulled you out of the bar somehow without anyone noticing.

During the drive back to his you remained fairly quiet as the Uber driver continued to talk to Mat about what it was like being a hockey player “I’m telling you I think he loves you.” You got the words out between your fit of giggles.

Mat groaned shaking his head “was nervous to have such a pretty girl in his car.” The boy shot back shoving his spoon back into the Häagen-Dazs ice cream container as he ignored the workout he was going to have to do tomorrow.

His compliment made your stomach do flips “think he’d be more affected by you,” you shook your head taking a sip of the expensive vodka that he had given you to drink “if he was gay-“ before you could swallow you let out a laugh resulting in a cough from you.

The hockey player grew alarmed watching your face turn red “you okay?” All you could do was nod until your throat calmed down “you care about me.” You teased rubbing your elbow with his as you smiled.

As much as Mat tried to ignore how he felt about you it was no longer working “of course I do.” The Canadian wanted to scoff that you would ever even consider to think that he didn’t.

But what he didn’t expect as your eyes locked with his was that you would lean forward to kiss him. At first Mat melted into the kiss as this was something he always wanted but as you moved to his lap he was reminded of the fact that you weren’t his “what about Tito?” Mat gasped forcing himself to feel guilty about the situation. Your lips formed a frown “he doesn’t love me anymore Mat,” you shook your head as tears formed in your eyes “and I don’t love him.” It was the first time you had ever actually said that out loud.

Yet it was all true, the fire that was once burning underneath your relationship turned to an occasional spark that had gone into hiding for the last few months. Mat stared at your soft facial expression “why don’t you leave him?” He asked furrowing his brows “don’t want to be alone.” Your confession made you seem week.

Truthfully though you had grown used to Anthony’s company and you were scared to see if you could survive without a boyfriend in your life “you aren’t alone.” Mat sighed tracing his finger along your jaw letting his thumb settle on your lip.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking but if he showed you that he was here for you then maybe you’d leave Anthony for good “prove it to me then baby.” You pushed your lips back into his as the boy walked the two of you to his room letting your body hit his mattress.

Mat was finally going to have his way with you.

The next morning.

You let out a groan as you heard a loud knock at the door “baby go get it,” you grumbled wanting to go back to sleep “fine.” Hearing Mats voice from beside you had the events of last night quickly falling back into your head.

Somehow though the boy seemed calmer about it all as he sent you a smile “could get used to this.” You were wearing one of his old Islanders shirts, the first time you were wearing a piece of merch from the team that wasn’t from Anthony.

It reminded you of the fact that you still had a boyfriend but here you were in his best friends bed covered in hickies whilst he was covered in scratches “you should answer the door.” You pushed your hair out of your face as you began to feel sick. You weren’t upset about last night, you loved the reminder of feeling what it was like to be loved.

To put it simply you felt bad that you had done it to a guy like Anthony, your mother raised you better than that “I’ll send them on their way and then we can talk about last night.” Mat wasn’t an idiot, he could see that you weren’t thinking about Anthony by the way you stared at the promise ring on your finger that he gave you when he came back in February.

It only took you two months to go ahead and fuck that one up “okay,” you nodded biting the inside of your cheek as you struggled to comprehend how you would talk to Anthony after this.

Your stomach did flips as you stared at yourself in Mats bedroom mirror. In that moment you felt like a horrible person and there was honestly no denying that you were one. Your precious Anthony would never cross a line like the one that you had and you only hoped that you had enough time to fix it before everything was thrown back in your face “what took you so long dude?”

That voice sent a chill down your spine as your eyes went wide with any desire of wanting extra sleep quickly being thrown out of the window.

What the fuck was Anthony doing at Mat’s door?

[hockybish]

Before they get together, Mason and Lola do a video or two for the Ducks' socials and the people start to speculate whether there is something going on between them. Fans start shipping them together, they swear that they have to have slept together or at the very least kissed.

Those rumors are put to a stop when Lola gets traded to Vancouver for a few players and draft picks.

The couple just wants some peace and quiet while they navigate a new romantic relationship, that starts off long distance. And they get it, until that first match up between the Canucks and the Ducks in Anaheim.

The Canucks plane had gotten in late the night before. After a hard fought match against vegas, most of the team wanted to go straight to the hotel and sleep.

Lola wanted so badly to get a cab and head for Mason's and stay there for the night. But she chose to follow the crowd to the hotel instead. Sleep was calling her and she couldn't resist.

love you m see you tomorrow sometime 😘♥️

She put her phone on the nightstand beside her and laid her head on the pillow, drifting off to sleep.

The next day which was game day was busy. Lola opted for going to the optional morning skate. It wasn't long, and she would have little bit of time to meet up her boo before she went down for a nap and did her pregame.

But Mason had a skate too and his went later and then he forgot he had something to do before hand. Then when they both got to Honda, they were pulled in different directions. Their schedules just didn't seem to matchup.

So the first time they would be seeing each other in person in months would be warm ups. They fought the urge to meet at the red line and at the very least greet each other.

Quinn warned her not to do it. They were already going to be distracted by each other. If they met up on ice it would probably be an even bigger distraction. Lola knew just the fact that her lover was so close and yet she couldn't touch him was making her lose focus.

The lovebirds' eyes just happen to meet and they said screw it. The next chance they had during warmups they quickly met.

"Hi pretty girl" Mason wanted to shake off his glove and take her hand in his. No. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, pull her in close, and kiss the heck out of her.

"What you talking about? We haven't even started and I already smell" Lola scrunched her nose as they said their hellos.

"God I want to kiss you right now" he confessed.

"Then do it Mase" she wasn't about to make the first move.

"Are you sure?" Mason did quick glance around the arena. There were already so many eyes on them.

"Just kiss me already!"

"Fine, Miss Bossy"

Mason leaned in to peck at her lips real quick. They both whispered a quiet I love you to each other as the cameras went crazy. The kiss was widely photographed, the imagine spreading like wildfire.

The Canucks ended up besting the Ducks. Mason scored in the second while Lola had the game winning goal at the very end of the third.

[crossbackpoke-check]

find a blorbo (nhl tag game)

RULES: Go through the roster of each NHL team and find at least one player that you can root for.

tagged by @bondedpairs!! when i say too many teams to count and here for the narrative um. i may not have lied. this is not an extensive list of my blorbos but in order to make it not ten thousand years long i made up the rule that i had to do it straight from memory :)

anaheim ducks: as evidenced by recent events i DO like mason mctavish and trevor zegras but i have to honor laura and mention troy terry and beloved goalie gibbie*

boston bruins: oh for sure brad marchand… can i say patrice? one of the charlies got traded but i think mcavoy is still there because gryz is gone, brandon carlo is there still i think

buffalo sabres: cozens & thompson, owen power, rasmus dahlin, ukko pekka luukkonen

calgary flames: is chris tanev still here? is markstrom still here?? noah hanifin?? as a last resort i’ll say blasty

carolina hurricanes: aho & jarvy & teuvo teravainen & brent burns is still playing maybe? i know sepe got traded

chicago hockey: the bedsy narrative is compelling but ANDREAS ATHANASIOU MY BELOVED reunited with tyler bertuzzi… that’s the real story. also i like foligno

colorado avalanche: gabe landeskog, whatever ross colton & miles wood have going on, natemac + jo, mikko

columbus blue jackets: have long been on the merzlikins train, have been swayed to the darkside of umich boys (brindley, kent johnson, fantilli, blankenburg who is now on nsh)

dallas stars: seggy! mush! roope + miro and otter and robo and wyjo (rip ty dellandrea) and harls! etc.

detroit red wings: MOST players. dilly larks, moritz seider, jv, raymond, rasmussen, kitty, lyon, etc except for k*ne

edmonton oilers: mcdrai, ofc. nugent-hopkins, nursey, rip vinny & skinny

florida panthers: tkachuk, reinhardt, sasha barkov, verhaeghe (is there still?)

los angeles kings: adrian kempe… kevin fiala… danault… quinton byfield & alex turcotte

minnesota wild: kirill, marat, fleury, brodes, fabes, boldy, moose, middsy, spurge… god’s perfect idiots

montreal canadiens: going out on a limb here to say martin st. louis but also xhekaj (both), slafkovský, suzuki, my austrian reinbacher, yes fine cole caufield

nashville predators: MOST BEAUTIFUL D PAIR IN THE WORLD GRADY SKJEI AND ROMAN JOSI!! juuse, evangelista, isn’t stamkos there and also someone else who absolutely should not be

new jersey devils: nico… tuna (tatar), dawson mercer, siegenthaler, dougie hamilton, yes the hugheses whatever

new york islanders: barzy, zeeker & marty, anders lee, noah dobson lol

new york rangers: mika & chris, lafrenière & k’andre, shesterkin

philadelphia flyers: frosty & beezer and tk and sanny and the new baby michkov and coots and scooty loots and foerster etc etc. you know the Guys

pittsburgh penguins: the two headed monster but also compelled by rutger mcgroarty, and kevin hayes was there!!!

ottawa senators: timmy stü & brady! josh norris! the evolution of shane pinto! ullmark now and brännström and claude giroux and chabot

san jose sharks: ekky, thrun, mario, borde, logan couture, shakir, that other vaguely blond rookie

seattle kraken: brandon tanev, andre burakovsky! grubauer & d’accord also

st. louis blues: jordan kyrou, nathan walker (is still there?), rob thomas? is parayako still there?

tampa bay lightning: hedman, point, they dumped so many guys after the cup run… is kucherov still there or is he in nashville?? anthony cirelli (notable for being made out with by pat maroon)

toronto maple leafs: mitch, jt, willy, alex nylander, kniesy, dewar, et

utah hockey: crouse, keller, tuba

vancouver canucks: quinn, brock, petey, jt, garly, höggy, i want to say dakota johnson, elias lindholm?

vegas golden knights: brandon montour is here now… alex pietrangelo, so sorry to one i can’t remember who loves the lions it will come back to me

washington capitals: full of love and stupidity. oshie, nicke/ovi, pierre-luc dubois, dowd, vrána, milano

winnipeg jets: adam lowry!! josh morissey and kc and morgan barron, also vladdy my beloved

tagging @stillfertile + @colap1nto + @songsandswords + @moregraceful if they haven’t done it yet, i know they follow at least a couple teams. if anybody else wants to play i love adopting blorbos!!

[wehaveagathering]

Who Does the NHL Instagram Account Love? It's not the Flyers. A (shortish) Statistical Analysis (December 1-15, 2023)

(I don't know anything about statistics.)

Recently, as a Flyers fan, I've kind of become sick and tired of seeing the @NHL instagram account NOT post my team. Of course, every fan of any team is going to feel their team is'nt getting enough love online, but I had a feeling that I wasn't just making this up. So I counted every single post so far in the month of December – from the 1st to the 15th – and added up each time the NHL instagram posted each team.

Qualifications for what counted as a post:

It could not be the list of nightly scores or weekly power rankings.

It could not be an official game announcement. Unofficial game announcements, like Connor v Connor graphics, were allowed.

It could not be a trade or coaching change – but signings did count.

If it was a video of a play during a game, the post counted as a tally for the the team with the successful play.

Any sort of list, play-of-game compilations, or fantasy team counted. However, if a team was listed twice in a post, they could still only receive one tally. In this essay I will –

The average number of posts per team was 18.47 and the median was 17.5 out of the 591 posts I counted. It's important to note that because I didn't count other types of posts – official NHL compilation videos with different players, game announcements, scoresheets at the end of every night – that the total number of posts between now and December 1st was probably around 700. I didn't look too closely at that number.

The team with the most points was the Canucks (20-9-1), with an outstanding 39 total posts, 6.6% of the total posts and 11 tallies ahead of second place with 28. Of course, the prevalence of Quinn Hughes and Brock Boeser on league-leading stat sheets, as well as the Hughes Bowl in early December and the recent influx of Luongo posting all helped to bolster this number.

Trailing behind them in the high twenties were the Rangers (20-7-1) with 28, the Oilers (13-13-1) with 27, the Devils (15-11-1), Isles (14-7-8), and Lightning (14-12-5) with 26, and the Avalanche (18-9-2) with a measly 25. All of these teams save for the Islanders had the help of league-leading scorers on their teams, which bolstered them in the compilation-post and fantasy-team standings.

On the opposite hand, trailing in the single digits were the Montreal Canadiens (12-13-4), Seattle Kraken (10-14-7), and yes, the Philadelphia Flyers (16-10-3), with 8, 9, and 9 posts respectively. (That is 4.39% or 4.4% percent of the total posts – these three teams combined for less posts than the Canucks.) The Nashville Predators (17-13-0) and the Calgary Flames (11-14-5) barely scraped into the double digits with 10 posts to their name each. The Flyers and Flames both struggled to even get on the board, and were the last two teams without a post after 3 days, when Carter Hart made a Goalie Save of the Week compilation. The Flames got on the board after 4 days worth of posts with a Noah Hanifin assist against the Avalanche.

Generally, better teams got posted more, and worse teams got posted less, but that wasn't always the case. (Clearly – the San Jose Sharks were posted 22 times! I love you san jose ❤️) Look at the Flyers and the Predators – two teams who have been good surprises this season, but have been neglected by @ NHL. Out of the teams who have been posted the least, the Flyers and the Preds have the best standings. On 12.15.23 the Flyers were at 16-10-3 with a .603 points percentage, and the Preds were at 17-13-0 with a .567 points percentage. Despite these extremely decent and reasonable stats, and the Flyers currently sitting in a playoff spot in the Metro, both these teams were only posted 9 and 10 times in the first half of December – out of 591 posts! That seems unreasonable.

In the first half of December, the Flyers received 3 solo posts for goals from Cam York, Sean Couturier, and Tyson Foerster. The Preds received 4 solo posts for goals from Yakov Trenin, two from Filip Forsberg, and Colton Sissons.

This other one though, that according to my rules, I had to count, pissed me off. These two tiny names counted as 10% of the total December postings for these two teams.

Knowing that this was the kind of post that counted for so many of these teams, this was the kind of post that bolstered the scores of the Oilers and the Canucks and the Devils, makes it nearly all the more egregious that this was the extent that it took to acknowledge the Flyers and the Preds.

Also, I think if I counted the posts that included videos of plays made against the Flyers in the games that the Flyers won, I would go absolutely bananas, despite the fact that, FOR example, Konecny is tied for 8th in goals this season with Pastrnak and Panarin. Konecny, with 16 goals and 24 points so far this season, was posted one time, on a December 5th Play of the Night compilation post with... three Coyotes. Compare this to the two 12.2.23 solo posts celebrating a Pastrnak goal.

Clearly, there's favorites. And it has nothing to do with how well a team is playing. The Edmonton Oilers, Chicago Blackhawks, and San Jose Sharks are sittin pretty in the bottom ten teams in the league but have a combined total of 66 posts. Is it about the engagement each team gets? Maybe people don't interact with Flyers or Preds or Kraken posts as much as the other ones. Is it secretly Gary Bettman, who hates me and the Flyers personally? Does the NHL just not like the Flyers? On another topic – does the amount that these teams are posted correspond with the amount they're posted on other sites, like Twitter or Tumblr?

And this isn't even getting into how approximately half of the posts about the Ducks were about Leo Carlsson, or the Caps were just Ovechkin, or the poor Montreal Canadiens, who are being shunted to the wayside to make room for the Chicago Blackhawks and their 32nd-in-the-league standing and their 17 posts, 16 of which seem to be about Connor Bedard. I didn't record these numbers, but they sure as hell SEEMED like this was the case, and I've learned to trust my gut.

I definitely know what I want to look for and need to figure out how I want to document these stats differently in the second half of December for a more thorough analysis on the types of post each team is receiving. This has been an interesting, if frustrating experiment, and I'm looking forward to part 2. I love you Flyers and I love you hockey, and I... I don't love you, NHL. You can rot.