#pens hockey injuries

[reavenedges-lies]

[podcasts-8-my-heart]

[4axel4loop]

"the task of being alive is a sacred one" / Book of Ancestors, Margaret Atwood

[coffee-at-annies]

Idk what’s going on with first line but the only one who’s looked good is Tito. Rusty has had chances but Sid hasn’t looked like Sid.

[lovethytendytenderly]

Love From The Other Side / So Much (For) Stardust by Fall Out Boy // an edit a day til penguins hockey, a countdown (day 19)

x x x

Miss you sunshine

[martyrbat]

i already miss rusty and rakell :(

[raplinesmoon]

Breaking The Ice (KNJ x F!Reader) - teaser

pairing: hockeyplayer!namjoon x f. reader

genre/au: ice hockey au, college au, roommates au / smut, fluff, slow burn

rating: explicit/18+

summary: after last season, namjoon knows he can’t afford anymore mishaps. when you show up on namjoon’s doorstep looking to share his apartment, he thinks it couldn’t be more perfect. medical school has you even busier than he is, but what happens when what used to be the perfect arrangement turns into a bigger distraction than either of you bargained for?

word count: 911 for this teaser

warnings: clumsy Joon, injuries, lots of swearing, Joon gets a boner, OC is pretty and way too nice

a/n: *taps mic* is this thing on? happy Joon day! (i hope i made the deadline). I remembered I had this sitting on the bench (get it lol) as a scene from my wip for the 🏒on ice: for the boys collab that was announced a long time ago! I decided to spruce up this little scene and publish it, even though the final fic is nowhere near complete. This can probably even be read as a standalone (a cute moment between roomies)! I hope you enjoy this piece and happy bday again to Joonie! credits for the banner go to @joheunsaram!

You okay, Namjoon-ah?

Namjoon wants to deck Kim Seokjin and his stupid pretty boy smile into the boards just for asking, when that motherfucker knows he’s at fault for Namjoon’s current state. He feels a painful twinge in his side, sucking in a sharp breath. Practice had barely ended before Namjoon was hobbling out of the arena, the rough-housing that normally accompanied Bangtan’s practice going a little too far today.

When he sees the steps of his building come into view, he nearly wants to sob with relief. Cursing, he stumbles up them, skipping two at a time in the hopes that it’ll get him up and able to faceplant into the couch faster. Knowing his luck though, he’d probably eat his words and end up with his face straight into the ugly grey shag carpet instead.

As he limps down the hallway, he’s struck by dueling aromas – the earthy, nutty mellowness of freshly brewed coffee, and the warm, spicy cinnamon scent of cinnamon. Both coming from his door, propped open slightly, where he can hear the faint lilt of classical music escape. 

Anatomy must have been whooping your ass again.

Namjoon takes special care to slip inside quietly, wincing when he puts weight on his knee. He glances down to see that it’s swelled to an alarming size. Fucking Seokjin.

He knew he should have probably gotten it checked out by the team medic. Yoongi’s nagging is already echoing in the back of his mind, reminding Namjoon that if he wanted to be clumsy, he had to stay on top of his injuries. For the sake of his team.

But somehow getting his limbs checked by a crusty old guy who was past the retirement age didn’t seem nearly as exciting when there was you. 

You who always wore the comfiest sweats, ones he was half-tempted to steal from your closet. You and your penchant for always looking for a pen, when you always had one tucked behind your ear or in your hoodie pocket. You and your stress baking, winning the adoration of his teammates (Stupid Seokjin and his flirting), but most of all him. Your damn cinammon rolls were worth every extra minute he had to spend in the weight room keeping them off.

“Hey Joon, I was just finishing up the cinnamon rolls, they’re on the cooling rack— what happened?” Your smile falls when you take him in, knee as red as his jersey, and a nasty cut under his eyebrow, skin turning purplish underneath.

Namjoon thinks he might pass out, either from the pain or from the way your face falls in disappointment, and the plush cushions of the couch seem like a great place to bury his head into right now.

He’s given a few quiet moments to stew before he feels a soft tap on his shoulder. Lifting his head up, he swears when your face nearly collides with his, noses bumping with such force that you have to take a step back, rubbing gingerly at the bridge.

Great fucking impression you’re making on your pretty roommate, Namjoon. She’s totally into getting clocked in the face. The little devil on his shoulder must be having a ball right now.

“Fuck, ___, I’m so sorry, fuck–”

“It’s okay, Joon, I know you didn’t mean to. But we only have the resources for one injured party in this apartment, yeah?”

Namjoon feels his face heat, not sure if he’s just embarrassed or you’re too close close to him. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head when you pick up his knee, studying it with a furrow in your brow.

What a day to decide to wear grey sweatpants. His dick-print was so happy with him right now, and he silently prays that your eyes remain downwards.

“We need to wrap this up. Give me a sec and I’ll help you.” 

Is he dreaming, or does your face look a little flushed? If you notice his boner, he’s happy you don’t say anything, humming softly s you disappear into the hallway, rummaging around in the closet for the first-aid kit.

You re-appear moments later, a roll full of medical tape in your hand, and you’re back to prodding at his knee again. Namjoon sinks into the couch, body relaxing at your gentle touch.

Only to jolt a few seconds later when he feels something cold hit his aching joints, nearly whacking you a second time. God, he had to be more careful.

“Shhh,” you put a finger to his lips, and Namjoon’s breath catches in his throat. “Gotta put some ice on it.”

“You should really increase your fees, doc. I’m pretty sure at-home care isn’t included in the job description.”

Is he flirting? Fuck, okay he’s flirting. He’s doing this.

“Maybe I like knowing I’ll always have a patient who keeps me in business,” you wink, fingers lingering longer than necessary on his knee when you finish wrapping it. Your hands move next to the cut underneath his brow.

“Now what are we gonna do with you?”

Oh fuck, abort, abort mission! Namjoon shoots straight up, grimacing at your shocked gasp.

“YouknowIjustrememberedIhaveanassignmentdueatmidnighttoday! I should really go work on that!”

You say nothing as he limps into his room, smiling widely at him the whole time. Namjoon collapses on his bed, groaning into the pillows.

Maybe getting banged up wasn’t so bad after all. Not when he always had you around to patch him up.

a/n pt. 2: As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

[intheupside]

• Penguins sources said multiple teams have made strong pitches for Bryan Rust, who owns a full no-movement clause until July 2025. Rust is injured and has dealt with three separate injuries this season, all of which have caused him to miss time. However, he’s been excellent this season and has a deserved reputation as one of hockey’s best big-game performers.

The Detroit Red Wings have shown the most interest in Rust, perhaps not surprisingly. Rust is a Michigan native, and the young Red Wings are on the verge of making their long-awaited return to the postseason. Rust, a wonderful two-way player whose trademark speed remains, would be a veteran presence who could make the Red Wings better this spring.

However, Dubas did not ask Rust to waive his no-movement clause.

It remains to be seen if Rust will remain in Pittsburgh for the entirety of his contract, but don’t expect him to be dealt this week. The Penguins greatly value him, and, while much is rightfully made about Crosby’s preference for Guentzel as a linemate, the same can be said of Rust.

• While it’s not a certainty that Guentzel will be traded, it’s very likely.

A bidding war is ongoing. The Edmonton Oilers have aggressively inquired about Guentzel and would love to add him to their already potent top-six forward mix.

The Vancouver Canucks are also interested. They don’t have a first-round pick to offer this season, but again, that’s not necessarily a dealbreaker if the right young players or prospects are included.

Rutherford, now the president of hockey operations in Vancouver and Rick Tocchet, the Canucks head coach, have obvious Pittsburgh ties and have a particular affection for Guentzel.

The Vegas Golden Knights and Florida Panthers also have interest in the 29-year-old forward.

This time of year, most teams inquire about players. General managers aren’t doing their jobs if they don’t at least gauge the market. But the interest in Guentzel is very significant.

• It wouldn’t come as a surprise if the Penguins were to deal a goaltender, with Alex Nedeljkovic being the most likely to be dealt.

It’s not inconceivable that Tristan Jarry could be traded, but that seems unlikely unless a team blows Dubas away with an offer he can’t refuse.

pens trade chatter from the athletic

[smellrain]

𝐧𝐡𝟏𝟑 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭

in which: nico and you had met years ago in a cold rink in canada but then lost touch for several reasons. It's hard, growing and correcting mistakes of your past but you try anyway.

tags: written, angst, hopeful ending, mentions of: depression, injuries, hospitals, doctors, etc. (masterlist)

notes: [5.1k] I have no idea what this is? I woke up, wrote the entire thing and passed out again for 2 hours. Tried polishing it through editing? Yeah. It turned out a lot different than the rest of my stuff so far, so it's scary posting this. Come & tell me if you liked it.

The ice was as harsh as it was unforgiving. 

The cold air of the rink has seeped into your bones years ago and the reddend tips of your fingers went numb a while ago, but you were used to it by now. Nothing really mattered when you got like this, too caught up in your head for anyone to reach. 

Not even yourself. 

You had been home and then suddenly not, your body already knowing what you needed before your mind caught up to it. 

The rink wasn’t open, not yet, but you had gotten a key years ago. The owner, David, had been the only one that had looked at you the same back then. There had been a knowing sort of look in his eyes when he had seen you waiting for him at the front door stepps, eyes red. 

He had given you a key, because he had seen you for who you were: a girl whose entire life had collapsed around her. 

Bronze at fifteen, silver at sixteen, gold forever out of reach. 

You could still remember the red pen tucked into your doctor’s coat. The ‘my condolences, but’, the white light, the letter in your hand, the sinking realisation that this was it. 

That you were going to be one of the several girls that had pushed their body too far.

The same way you had done everything back then you had followed the instructions of your therapist to the letter. Stretching, compressions, different exercises. Still, there was no full recovery, no chance of ever skating professionally again. 

That might be the worst part, still being able to skate but knowing that you will never be able to feel it anymore. That you were cursed to be in this limbo, never letting go of it but never being able to live for it anymore. 

The harsh sound of your blade cutting over the fresh ice was as pleasant as it was torture. You wanted more, but you had to settle for this. You had to learn that this was all you were ever going to get. 

These select few hours in the early morning, just before your classes started, before you had to start living your life. 

You could feel yourself drawing harsh breaths, but it didn’t matter. You had pushed through worse, hunger, hurt and feelings just to stand here for a bit longer. The ringing in your ear accumulated when you thought about all that you had lost, that you could never regain.

Suddenly the heavy door of the entrance fell closed. You slowed down, curious who it might be. The clock in the corner of your vision reflected a red 05:57 back at you. It was too early for it to be anyone aside from David or another person with a key, someone like you.

It was a guy, a bag in his hand and another slung over his shoulder. 

You would recognize the equipment anywhere, familiar with it in a distant way. It must be a hockey player that David had picked out out of the hundreds that frequented this place. 

For some reason you already didn’t like him. Maybe because unlike you, he had the chance of actually archiving his dreams. Bitterness was an annoying but frecent emotion that stained the back of your mouth. 

You wanted. You wanted more than this. You wanted the early morning practices, the ones after school, the rigidous schedule, the heavy monitoring. What were you without all that?

The static in your mind had been interrupted by his arrival but you hardly noticed, more focused on the way he walked down the stairs, casually like he had done so hundreds of times already.

It was almost six, which meant it was time to get off the ice anyways, so you circled a few laps, rotating your wrists and shoulders to feel if anything was off, and then made your way towards the outside of the rink. 

“You look pretty,” said the boy from where he was tying his shoelaces up on the benches. “Out on the ice, I mean.”

Something in you hurt at that, as if your heart started pulling at its own strings. It’s been a while since anyone has watched you skate,, since you let someone else watch you. There was a sharp kind of anger rising up in you that it had been him watching you which dissipated as soon as you looked back at him.

It wasn’t his fault. There really was something wrong with you.

You knew your parents didn’t approve of you being here, but they couldn’t look at you anymore when you skated, disappointed that this was how it had ended. Disappointed in you.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice completely scraped raw. You hoped he didn’t notice it. 

“I’m Nico,” he said, approaching you. He held out his hand. He wasn’t wearing gloves yet but his dark shirt had thumbholes that his thumb peeked through which was weirdly endearing on him. 

You looked back up to his face. There was a tired but polite smile plastered on it but you didn’t have the energy to give him one. Instead you simply told him your name and took his hand. Even through his layer of fabric it was warm beneath your icy fingers.

He didn’t flinch at the cold of your hand and instead started genuinely smiling which took you by surprise. People didn’t react to meeting you like this, not anymore. 

Then, without saying anything else, he took off his guards and stepped on the ice, skating around to warm up. You watched him for a bit while scraping off the excess ice and putting your skates away. 

His skating was differentthan yours; not as delicate. The beauty of it had been hammered into you from an early age on which didn’t seem to be the case form him. It was weird, not being on the ice, being the one to watch instead. 

You changed back into your shoes and walked up the steps. 

From the top, which wasn’t all that high because this rink wasn’t that big, he seemed small. You wondered if you looked like that too, if anyone had thought that when you fell down, when they had seen you sprawled on the ice at fifteen, not being able to get up again. 

A sick shudder passed through you. You wondered if you had ever gotten up from that ice.

Then you turned around, your back to him and left without saying goodbye. 

~*~

The next time you saw him again, was two days later, just after six. 

You knew you were going to be late for class but didn’t really care. Today you weren’t as cooped up in your own head, but it was still hard to let go of these stolen few hours of freedom and face reality. 

“Hey,” Nico said, “it’s you again.”

“Hello,” you said in return. He stepped on the ice and you fought off the urge to leave immediately. That would be impolite, a voice reminded you in your head, even if you didn’t want him to be here right now.

“Are you here every morning?” he asked you, falling into step beside you and therefore joining you on your cooldown laps. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Couldn’t he just do his own thing? Did he have to come talk to you? “Yes.” 

"Dedicated. I only come every second day,” he said as if it mattered to you. You might have to leave early every second day now to avoid talking to him, which made your scowl even worse. 

“Okay.” You said instead. 

He hummed in reason but dropped the conversation after. When you took a look at him from the corner of your eye he didn’t seem deterred at your attitude, seemingly just satisfied that he got a response.

After another lap in, you hated to admit it but companionable silence, you left, without saying anything but this time he waved back at you from below. You didn’t return his gesture. 

~*~

Despite your early judgement, the two of you formed some kind of routine over the next few weeks. You came early, and sometimes you left a protein bar for him in the stands and sometimes he brought  you a hot tea for when you got off the ice. 

Still, always without fail, he joined you for a few laps. He talked about his life and sometimes asked you a few questions. Sometimes you answered him, other times you didn’t. He never pressed for answers. 

Nico told you that he was from Switzerland, which explained the heavy accent. He just joined Halifax, and he came early to work on his technique, preferring to do so in silence without his teammates chirping at him. You, in turn, told him that you had skated, professionally, before your injury. He didn’t ask for details about either of these things and you didn’t share of your own accord. 

Slowly, so slowly that you didn’t even notice, you realised that he had become your friend. 

It was strange. You hadn’t made friends in a long time. Before, you had had school friends, but because you never hung out outside of it, always training, it never deepend. 

A weird sort warmth seeped in under your skin at the thought of the two of you being friends like a steady fire that kept you warm at night.

The friends you had made while skating splintered along with your knee. 

It was hard, you knew that, to see their worst fear reflected back at them, but it was still hard for you to reach out, so you simply stopped talking to each other. 

On your bad days you thought that it was all their fault, on your good you knew that it was a mutual mistake. 

The thing about Nico was that he was hard to pin down. He was hardworking, thrived under pressure and loved hockey. He was also afraid of falling and failing, he loved sitting under the sun in the summers, feeling his skin heat up and his favorite colour was green, but he admitted that it changed every few weeks. 

You knew that this friendship wouldn’t last, not really. Neither of you had any way of reaching out to the other, and neither expressed the desire to do so but it was still nice, this tentative kinship.

~*~

“Have you ever played hockey?” he asked you, once. 

It must have been a Saturday or Sunday because you were in no hurry to get off the ice, instead basking in his company. 

“No,” you answered, simply.

He grinned, “you are missing out.”

“Really now?” you asked, teasingly, when you turned around to skate with your front to him.

“Really. I wanna teach you,” he said, leaving the choice up to you without outright asking. If you wanted to you could just brush it off and the conversation would continue. 

Instead you said, “yeah, sure, why not.”

His smile was blinding, the adoration for his sport bleeding from every inch of his skin. It was a good look on him, happiness. Distantly you wondered if anyone had ever thought that about you.

It was different, skating with a stick in your hands but it was fun. He taught you how to shoot and aim at a certain spot which you weren’t half bad at if you stood still.

Hours later when the two of you stepped off the ice your tea was cold but you hardly noticed it.

~*~

Another day you asked him what he was reaching for. 

“Olympics,” he had answered immediately but after a beat of silence he looked up as if the lights in the ceiling were stars he could wish upon. “I think I want someone to look at me and think ‘I want to do that. I want to start playing hockey.’”

You looked at him and the only thought that crossed your mind was that he was the reason you could step off the ice again, that you knew you would always be able to come back, just one more time. 

“I like that,” you said because it was true. 

He tilted his head back to you, and the way his eyes glimmered with a rare vulnerability made your breath catch. Or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, standing still, alive and just in reach.

Oh. 

That was that feeling in your chest. 

~*~

Yet another day he joined you on the ice and you immediately kicked him off again. 

“What did I say about injuries?” you asked, frustrated in a way only he could make you. 

“That they were not to be ignored,” he parroted back, his gaze between his feet as if staring at his ankle would magically heal it. 

“Exactly,” you said. Then, gentler than before, “you need to give yourself time to heal, otherwise you will never get better.”

He looked back up to where you were hovering above him. “Okay.”

You didn’t want him to have the last word. “Okay,” you said firmly and sat down next to him. 

The two migrated up to the changing rooms  where he sat on a bench with his ankle elevated while you worked through your stretches, your knewww aching in phantom pain.

~*~

Today your mind was quiet.

It was your last time and you had wanted to take it all in again, one last time. You were moving, your father had gotten a new job somewhere in New Jersey. You knew it was good, a new start away from everything, a chance to start over. 

But still, you were going to miss this. The rink, the quiet, the place you had grown up in. The place that was your prison as much as it was your salvation. 

As you looked up towards the ceiling, the lights shining down on you, the dark gary that seemed black in contrast, you thought you should cry. This was the perfect moment to, and you hadn’t yet. 

Then, the door opened. 

You were surprised because he wasn’t supposed to be here today. Nico had been here yesterday and the two of you had argued about your favorite brand of cereal, and you selfishly had wanted to leave it at that. 

To leave your friendship without having to say goodbye, without having to ever really let go of him. 

“Nico,” you breathed, before you could stop yourself. 

“Hey you,” he said, as he came up to you. You didn’t even realise that you had stopped moving. 

“It’s late,” he stated. You looked up to the clock and sure enough, it was almost twenty past. 

“Ah,” you said, uncaring. It’s not like you had school today. You wondered when he went to school, if his just started later than yours had. In all your talks you had never actually talked about it. 

And you never were going to anymore, you had to remind yourself. Suddenly it was a lot harder to breathe through the ache in your chest. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, and you knew he meant it, “you look, I don’t know, sad?”

“I’m moving,” before he could ask anything more, “like tomorrow. This is the last time I’m going to see you in a while.”

“Oh.” The expression on his face was hurt, because he must have realised that you had intended to leave without saying anything. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. “for everything.” You weren’t really sure for what, but it seemed like the right thing to say. For your intentions, the way you acted, maybe.

“It’s okay,” he said, but it wasn’t, not really. You knew that and he knew that you knew.

“I’m moving to New Jersey.”

He was quiet for a bit.”America,” he started. Then, “do you want to exchange numbers?”

You ignored the sting behind your eyes. “I’m probably going to have to get a new simcard, but you can give me yours.”

The two of you skated back to the door, from where you had stood still in the middle of the open space. He got a piece of paper and a pen from his bag and then somewhat messily tore off the corner of a worksheet and scribbled down his number in blue ink and signed it with his name.

He looked up at you but neither of you said anything for a while. What was there to say, anymore? 

“Don’t forget about me,” he ended up telling you and you reached out to hug him. He was warm under your hands, steady and you were going to miss this, him.

“Don’t forget me either,” you murmured into the crook of his neck. 

Still, in the back of your mind, you knew that you were never going to use his number. You were going to cut off your old life before it could follow you to your new one. But for once you had told him the truth, you weren’t going to forget about him, probably ever. 

And that was that. You said goodbye, waved and you left him there. He returned the gesture, face unreadable and you were sad that the last time he looked at you he wasn’t smiling.

From the top you looked down at him one last time. He seemed bigger now, compared to that first time you had looked down at him, still filled with bitterness.

Maybe that was just your imagination, or maybe it was his confidence after playing with his current team, after seeing his results pay off. 

You turned and let the door fall closed behind you. 

Then, and only then tears started to well up in your eyes. You ignored them and moved on. Always looking ahead, never back. 

Still, you kept the number tucked away safely hidden in a small corner of your wallet. A piece of him that you would always carry with you. 

~*~

You made new friends, graduated and decided to attend college. Got diagnosed with chronic depression and mild anxiety, got a boyfriend and broke it off again after three months, cried, laughed and finally lived. 

But there was part of you hidden in the corner of your wallet, too.

~*~

If you were being honest, Nico didn’t really cross your mind when your friend asked you to go to a hockey game with you. 

In a way he did, because he had been one of your few friends that played hockey, but it was more of an oh yeah, the sport Nico loved and not oh yeah I’m going to a hockey game and I wonder if Nico is still playing, I wonder if he made it to the big leagues. 

Okay, maybe that was a bit of a lie, but still. You hadn’t expected this. 

The two of you went to the Prudential Center and you were excited despite your earlier apprehension. Your phone with the blocked tags of icehockey and nhl seemed to burn a hole in your pants but it’s not like anyone would know. 

Your friend had told you a bit about the team, but if you were being honest, you could not remember any of their names, much less which position and line they played. 

When the players got announced, the home team first, you froze. Suddenly the noise of the cheers around you were completely quiet until they flooded back to you, a harsh reminder of reality.

Because it was him. That was Nico. Your Nico. Or like your past Nico.

There, with a red thirteen and a small C over his chest, was Nico. He was all grown up now, and instead of thinking wow, he is kind of attractive when he smiled at the camera, you thought, holy shit, he is really, really handsome. 

Your friend picked up on your strange behaviour. “What's wrong?”

I know him, you wanted to scream. I think he saved my life without meaning to, and I think I loved him but I never told him. What came out instead was, “I think I'm going to be sick.”

“What?” she asked, suddenly even more worried, “do you need fresh air? Or do you just want to leave?”

You wanted to stay. You wanted to shoot a puck at his head and tell him to look up at you, the way he had done back then. 

“No, don’t worry about it,” you said and when didn’t change at your reply, you added, “I’m just going to get some water. I think it might be the crowd or something.”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to come with?”

You knew how much she had been looking forward to it, and besides there was nothing she could help you with anyhow. “No, really, it’s all good. Just need to breathe for a second.”

She gave you a look, and you smiled despite wanting to curl up in a corner and cry, “if you are sure. But if anything,” she took your hand in hers, “if anything is wrong call me. I’m gonna have my phone in my hand the entire time.”

You squeezed her hand the same way your heart did at her words. “Thank you, really, but it’s okay. I'll be right back.”

Then you fled up the stands and you couldn’t help but think about the first time you had seen him, how you had left without saying anything. You looked down, just once, and spotted him immediately, as if he was the north pole to your south, your eyes drawn to him. 

He seemed even bigger now, as if he had finally grown into the steady confidence he had had, even back then. 

You smiled. He deserved it, genuinely. You were glad that he did end up making it to the big leagues, even if some part of you hurt at that. You still missed ice skating, your rink from back then, David, but most of all you missed what could have been if you hadn’t been scared. 

What could have been if you had just texted him. 

Regret was a useless emotion to feel, but all of a sudden you felt yourself drown in and you coughed once, just to ease that feeling in your throat.

Then you turned your back to the ice and walked up the rest of the stairs to the stands to get yourself some water. 

It was useless trying to think about any of it now, so you pushed the thoughts aside for later. 

~*~

A week later you were drunk. It was a Friday evening and you had finally finished the gruelling lab you had worked on for the entire day. 

You were hanging out in your friend’s room, the same friend that had taken you to the game a week before. Two of your other friends were sat ob the floor, leaning gainst the opposite bed and a warm, content feeling spread through your chest. 

You had friends now. 

“What’s wrong?” she suddenly asked from where she was sat next to you on her bed, her back against the headboard, yours against the wall adjacent to it.

“Nothing,” you answered because nothing was. 

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me, tell me,” she said, “you've been quiet ever since we came back from the game a week ago and I’ve waited long enough for you to say something, so now I’m going to.”

Had you been that obvious? Or did she just know you that well? Either way, she deserved the truth, the full truth.

“I just,” you began and stopped again, starting to peel off the sticker on your beer with the blunt edge of your nail. 

“When I was younger, I skated.” You started. You knew that she had never expressed any kind of interest in skating so you elaborated further, “really well.” Wow, you were really eloquent tonight.

“Okay,” she said, no doubt wondering where you were going with this. 

Your mind was fuzzy around the edges because of the drinks which made harder than usual to focus on your words, but it made it easier to talk about it, too. These people didn’t know about anything that had been, only what was. “I was good enough to win. Olympics, I mean.”

Suddenly one of the other two friends from the other side of the room joined in. “The Olympics?”

“Yeah,” you said, staring firmly at the bottle in your hands, not looking at any of them. “I won bronze and silver, fifteen and sixteen.”

“Holy shit,” she said, as did your other friend, but one of them remained quiet, so you looked at her. 

From the look in her eyes you knew that she knew. “And then I fell, badly. Tried to get up again but couldn’t. Went to the doctor and you know,” you trailed off, “retired. Started physiotherapy, got a lot better but…”

“Not enough to ever compete again,” she finished for you. 

“Yeah,” you said, voice hoarse. “But I couldn’t let go of it, you know? So sometimes, before school, I snuck out to the local rink and skated around just because I didn’t know anything else.”

Your friend that was next to you on the bed made an encouraging noise, and laid a hand on your knee, so you continued. 

“Then I met a guy. I was in a bad mental place, not really talking to anyone unless I had to, but we somehow became friends.”

Then you looked at them, “I don’t know, it was a weird friendship because we only ever saw each other at the rink every few days, but I felt something for him anyway. It wasn’t quite love but could have been, maybe.”

The others were still listening, and the words rushed out before you could stop yourself. “Then I moved. Wanted to leave before saying goodbye because that would hurt too much. On the day I was leaving I saw him anyway. He gave me his number but I never used it.”

“You wanted to make a clean cut?” your friend asked. 

“Yeah. It was sefish, because it wasn’t just about me, you know? I should have told him how I felt, but I didn’t.” You shook your head, “but that’s not even the point. I saw him again at the game.”

“Oh,” your friend that had dragged you to it, said. 

“Yeah,” you answered, and your other friend asked, “why didn’t you talk to him?”

The other friend, the one that had never asked you about your skating, even though she had known, even though she had every opportunity to, said, “because he was playing, right?”

“Yeah,” you said and you wanted to cry. You could still hear his name announced by the speakers. “Funny, all the time we spent together and I never knew his last name.”

“Who is it?” she asked, gentle, and you knew you could just not answer. You could bury it deep down, once and for all. But that’s not what you wanted to do, not anymore. 

“Nico Hischier.” And your friend laughed. 

“Of course it’s the captain,” she said and you couldn’t help but join in, the effects of the alcohol cursig through your veins. What were the chances, really? That he ended up in the state you had moved to all those years ago.

The others joined it. “He changed his number by now, I’m sure.”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” one of them said. 

All of you were quiet for a second. “Wait, I have an idea,” she said and moved her hand from your leg and grabbed your phone. 

She gave it to you and made a motion for you to unlock it. You did and gave it back to her. From where you were sat you weren’t able to see your screen, much less what she typed on it. 

After a few seconds she gave it back to you. 

It was Nico’s instagram profile. You hesitated before clicking on his most recent post. Your other friends that had been sitting on the floor climbed up to join you. 

“Follow him,” one of them said. You could feel your heart thumping in your chest. This was not the account you had used to document your wins and training back then, but it still had your first and last name in the username, but it was on private. 

Underneath your thumb the button changed colour. “Fuck,” you said.

The other three laughed at your exclamation. “Wait, do I text him?” you asked, turning to the others. 

They all looked back at you, and one of them asked, “do you want to?”

You did. You really fucking did, but you had no idea what to say. “But what do I say? Hey, sorry for being a dick to you when we were like seventeen, I was half in love with you and didn’t know how to tell you, so I just cut you out before anything could possibly hurt me.”

One of them leaned her head on your shoulder. “If you leave out the half in love part, it’s not too bad.”

“You should also ask if he wants to meet and talk in person,” the other said. 

You opened your notes app and the four of you composed a message to him. 

Your hands were shaking and your heart was beating too fast. This was it, this was your chance and you weren’t going to let go again without a fight. This time you would stay and he could make the choice: to stay or to leave. 

Then, you hit the small blue icon and sent it and let out a quiet scream. You wouldn’t be able to take it back, not anymore. 

You threw your phone away from you onto a small patch where the blanket you were sitting on was still visible. 

Over an hour passed and you still hadn’t heard back from him. Soon after you pased out, but a quiet acceptance had settled in your stomach. He forgot. Or maybe he didn’t see the message or maybe he didn't want to talk to you again, which you couldn’t blame him for. 

But when you woke up the next morning, you had a single notification from him. 

For a second you debated not clicking on it, but that would mean standing still. It would be different this time. You would be different this time. There was an unfamiliar, new kind of determination that flickered up your spine and it reminded you of the steady ice under your skates, of the final hug the two of you had shared. Harsh, unforgiving, certain. 

You clicked on it and there was no going back now.

Nico Hischier Hello, it’s been a while.  Of course I remember you, didn’t I tell you?  For sure, I'd love to meet up and talk. Does next weekend work for you? I have a home game which makes it easier for both of us. 

notes: So. How are we feeling? Thoughts? Part 2? Please talk to me about this one because this lives in my mind rent free.

[karlkapri]

do u have any sports doc recs 🤝

i mean. the crossfit games documentary i just watched was sad but also quite an interesting look at the crossfit community & how people deal with grief. i watch the buttery bros documentaries for this event pretty much every year. the quality isn’t Amazing but they’re free & on youtube & they provide an up close & personal view of the athletes because the guys who make the movies are friends w them so that part is pretty cool.

other sports documentaries i liked:

The Last Dance - basketball series. incredible storytelling. equally incredible soundtrack.

Icarus - cycling doc. slow start but gets REALLY good. deep dives into the russian doping scandal from a few years back.

The Russian Five - hockey doc. it’s on youtube and i think everyone has pretty much seen it by now but it’s just. so good. so devastating.

Free Solo - climbing doc.

Senna - F1 doc. i liked the documentary and thought it was good but senna himself is um. pretty gross. the documentary doesn’t mention it but he dated a teenager when he was a grown adult so. you should know that going in i guess.

Last Chance U - series. the basketball season is good & the first american football season is good too. every other season i kinda hated. it’s a series that follows a group of boys who’ve failed out of university or gotten into some kind of legal trouble & are now trying to impress at a junior college to get back into the competitive sports programs. my mom and i used to watch these together.

MotoGP Unlimited - MotoGP series. this is basically drive to survive if it was good.

Hitting the Apex - MotoGP doc. slightly older but still good. focuses more on VRossi who i think is one of the most interesting motorsports personalities probably ever.

Tour the France: Unchained - cycling series. i thought this was v good even though i don’t typically love the netflix drive to survive type shows.

Cheer - cheerleading series. this one is interesting because the second season takes SUCH a turn. (CW: sexual assault) the first season follows a cheer team throughout their season. it’s happy. lighthearted. cute. the show does really well, the cheerleaders become pretty famous over it. the second season starts with one of the cheerleaders (a fan favourite) being imprisoned for sexually assaulting a minor. so that season then follows the rest of the team & how they’re dealing with that. it’s pretty dark but i found it interesting.

other docs worth checking out:

the first pens cup doc is pretty good. (i watched the other 2 and liked those less). there’s also a documentary called Pittsburgh is Home which i quite liked. not super high quality, but interesting.

ive seen a bunch of the netflix sports docuseries and hated pretty much all of them (sorry) but i will still check out the american football quarterback series just because i think american football is cool.

i watched the leafs all or nothing docuseries twice (TERRIBLE storytelling. really so bad) and enjoyed it for what it was. but man it’s bad. sorry leafs fans. also some very disturbing serious injuries being shown so don’t go into that one blind.

more crossfit & crossfit adjacent documentaries that i liked but that aren’t necessarily Good: FroIVing, The Fittest on Earth (there’s like 4 of these. ive watched all of them a few times), Fullsterkur, Ronnie Coleman: The King.

[reavenedges-lies]

The tag in question? "like pens jerseys make men out of tissue paper sometimes"

News broken in the GC by @robindrake13 and tag request by @coffee-at-annies

[podcasts-8-my-heart]

Jars update! (February 20th, 2023)

[ghostly--photography]

Homesick for the Home We Made| A. Fantilli

Summary: Adam  and Y/N have been inseparable since their college days at UMich,  bound by a love that grew through the late nights, laughter, and unwavering support. Now, as Adam begins his professional hockey career with the Columbus Blue Jackets, their relationship faces new trials. From navigating the pressures of the NHL, the relentless spotlight, and the strain of long-distance travel, to coping with injuries and doubts, they fight to stay connected amidst the demands of his rising fame.

Word Count: 8986

University of Michigan, 2022

The nights they spent in the library became their little ritual, a comforting constant amid their busy college lives. Adam’s schedule was intense, between morning practices, back-to-back classes, and late-night studying, yet he’d always make time to meet her there, settling into their usual corner by the large window that overlooked campus. Tonight, like every night, he’d saved her a seat, draping his hoodie over the chair beside him so she’d know he was waiting.

When she arrived, a warm feeling washed over her, seeing him so intently focused, tapping a pen against his notebook. His brow was furrowed in concentration, jaw set in that familiar way, yet the moment he saw her, his face softened, a grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, you,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders as she sat down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Missed you.”

She laughed, leaning into his side. “We were together this morning. You really missed me already?”

“More than you know,” he murmured, squeezing her shoulder. There was always something about him—a quiet warmth and sweetness that made her feel like she was the only thing in his world, even when he was balancing a million different pressures. He set his pen down, focusing his attention entirely on her, and she couldn’t help but smile.

They worked side by side for a while, falling into the easy rhythm they had developed over the months, sharing notes and sneaking little glances at each other. Occasionally, Adam would steal a quick kiss, his smile making her heart skip. It was these little moments that made her realize just how deeply she had fallen for him—the quiet understanding, the silent support, the shared smiles.

As they walked back to his dorm under the glow of the campus streetlights, a comfortable silence fell between them. The autumn air was crisp, and she felt Adam’s fingers tighten around hers, as if grounding her in that moment.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, stopping them both. She turned to face him, surprised by the sudden intensity in his gaze. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

She felt her heartbeat quicken as he looked at her, the seriousness in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, glancing down before meeting her gaze again. “Y/N, I know we’re both young, and we don’t have everything figured out, but…I know I want this. I know I want you, in my life, no matter what.”

His words were a revelation, each one grounding her in a reality she’d hoped for but hadn’t dared to expect. She looked up at him, a soft smile breaking across her face as she felt a surge of affection. “Adam, I feel the same way,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “You mean everything to me.”

He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her in a hug that felt like a promise. She could feel his heartbeat against her, steady and reassuring. After a moment, he pulled back, looking down at her with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

“Let’s go inside,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of excitement and vulnerability.

As soon as they closed the door, Adam’s hands found her waist, pulling her into a kiss that was soft at first but grew with an intensity neither of them could ignore. His hands traveled up her sides, sending a thrill through her, and she felt herself melt into him, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his breath warm against her neck as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers.

She nodded, her voice steady. “I’ve never been more sure.”

In that quiet room, they explored each other, savoring every touch, every kiss, as if they were making a silent promise to be there, to love each other no matter what life would throw at them. They moved together in a way that felt effortless, their bodies communicating a desire and trust that words could never capture. And when they finally lay side by side, wrapped in each other’s arms, she knew this was a memory she would carry with her always.

The room was filled with the quiet hum of their breathing as they drifted into sleep, the campus lights casting a warm glow through the window. Adam held her close, his fingers tracing light circles along her back as she rested her head on his chest.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, his voice filled with a vulnerable hope.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Summer 2023, NHL Draft Day

The months flew by, and suddenly, it was draft season. Adam’s nerves were palpable, but he tried to hide them behind his usual smile, his arms wrapped around her as they waited for his name to be called. The night was electric with excitement, but beneath it, she could feel his tension, the anticipation of everything they had worked toward coming down to this single moment.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, squeezing his hand. She could see the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, and it made her heart ache.

He nodded, flashing her a smile. “Yeah, just…a lot of pressure,” he admitted, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a calming rhythm. “But having you here…that makes all the difference.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him gently, trying to convey every ounce of love and belief she had in him. “You’ve got this. No matter where you go, you’re going to do incredible things.”

The moment his name was called, the room erupted into applause. She watched him, pride swelling in her chest as he hugged his family and friends, giving her a last, lingering look before making his way to the stage. It was a look that said everything he couldn’t put into words—a promise, a silent thank you, a reminder that she was part of this journey with him.

As the night wound down and the crowd thinned, Adam pulled her aside, his expression turning serious. They found a quiet corner, away from the noise, the celebration, and he took her hands, looking down at them as if collecting his thoughts.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” he began, his voice soft, laced with a nervous vulnerability. “But I don’t want to do this without you.”

Her breath hitched as she realized the weight of his words, the unspoken question hanging between them.

“Adam,” she said, her voice shaking slightly, “are you saying…?”

He nodded, meeting her gaze. “Come with me. Move with me to Columbus. I don’t want us to be apart—I want us to figure this out together.”

Her heart skipped a beat, a mixture of excitement and fear welling up inside her. It was a big decision, a huge leap into an uncertain future, but as she looked into his eyes, she knew there was only one answer.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet certainty. “I’m with you. Wherever you go, I’m right there.”

They held each other tightly, both of them feeling the enormity of what lay ahead. But in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, they felt an unshakeable confidence—a shared certainty that, together, they could face whatever challenges would come their way.

Later that night, in the quiet of the hotel room, they shared a moment that felt sacred. Their kisses were slower, deeper, filled with the promise of everything they had committed to. Adam’s hands were tender as they explored her, memorizing every inch of her skin, his touch full of reverence.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and a hint of nervousness.

She nodded, her eyes meeting his. “Absolutely. I love you, Adam.”

He smiled, his hand cupping her cheek. “I love you too, Y/N. More than you’ll ever know.”

As they lay together afterward, tangled in each other’s arms, she felt a profound sense of peace. It was as if the entire world had shrunk down to this single room, to the quiet of their breathing, to the warmth of his body beside her. They had made a promise tonight—a commitment to face the future together, to stay by each other’s side, no matter what. And in that moment, she knew there was nothing they couldn’t face as long as they had each other.

Columbus, Ohio – Fall 2023

Moving to Columbus was a whirlwind for both of them. The new city buzzed with excitement for Adam’s arrival, and the Blue Jackets fan base was thrilled to welcome their young prospect. The city had a new energy, one that felt vibrant and alive, as Adam settled into his role on the team.

Adam and Y/N found a modest, cozy apartment downtown, close enough to the rink for his practices but far enough that they could enjoy some quiet time together. The place was small, but it was theirs, and they spent the first few weeks transforming the bare walls and empty spaces into something that felt like home.

Boxes were everywhere as they unpacked, laughing and bickering playfully over where things should go. Adam insisted on keeping his signed rookie stick leaning in the corner of the living room, while she countered with a set of cozy throw pillows she’d found on a shopping trip. Every little detail was a negotiation, filled with laughter and eye rolls that melted into shared smiles.

“You know,” she teased one night, standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips, “if you’d let me put those curtains up instead of keeping that blanket over the window, this place might actually start looking like a real apartment.”

Adam grinned, tossing a pillow onto the couch before walking over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You saying my decorating skills aren’t good enough?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “I’m saying you’re better at scoring goals than picking out curtains.”

He pulled her closer, his voice dropping. “And which one of those is most important to you?”

Her cheeks warmed as she looked up at him, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Guess it depends on the context,” she murmured, her voice softening as their gazes locked.

The warmth in his eyes turned into something deeper, and he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, filled with a mixture of tenderness and longing. His hands slipped to her waist, pulling her closer, and she felt herself melt into him, their bodies pressed together as if they were one.

They spent the rest of the night tangled together, exploring every inch of their new space in a way that made it feel truly theirs. It was as if each touch, each kiss, each whispered word was imprinting memories into the walls, filling the empty spaces with moments only they would know.

The honeymoon period of settling into the new apartment soon gave way to the challenges of Adam’s grueling schedule. Training camps, team practices, media obligations—it was a new rhythm, and it pulled him away from her more often than either of them had anticipated. Early mornings turned into long days at the rink, and by the time Adam got home, he was exhausted, barely able to muster up the energy for anything other than collapsing onto the couch.

At first, she tried to ignore the pang of loneliness that crept in during the quiet hours she spent alone in their apartment, filling her days with work, exploring the city, and calling friends from Michigan. But as the weeks went by, she couldn’t shake the feeling of missing him, even when he was right there beside her.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, Adam came home, dropping his bag by the door with a tired sigh. She could see the weariness etched into his face, his usual spark dulled by exhaustion. He offered her a faint smile as he kicked off his shoes, heading straight for the couch.

She sat down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Long day?”

He nodded, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “You have no idea. I mean, I knew the NHL was going to be intense, but this… it’s next level.” His voice was low, almost defeated, and it tugged at her heart.

“Hey,” she said softly, rubbing his shoulder. “You don’t have to be perfect all the time. You’re allowed to be tired, Adam. It’s a lot to handle.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes softening as he took her hand, pulling her into his lap. “Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, her fingers brushing through his hair as he leaned his head against her shoulder. Slowly, she felt his breathing even out, and she realized he’d fallen asleep, his arms still wrapped around her. She smiled to herself, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

The following morning, she woke up to find him already gone, his side of the bed cold, a note on the nightstand that read: Couldn’t wake you. Wanted you to sleep in. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Miss you already.

It was the kind of note that left her heart aching in the best way, but also reminded her of the distance that had crept between them, even in their shared space.

Despite the challenges, they found ways to make it work, weaving small routines into the chaos. She’d pack his lunch, slipping little notes into his bag—inside jokes, or silly sketches of the two of them—that he’d find in between drills. And on nights when he got home early enough, they’d cook together, laughing as they danced around the kitchen, turning the simplest tasks into cherished rituals.

One night, they were attempting to make pasta—a meal that turned into a bit of a disaster when Adam managed to overcook the noodles. He looked at the pot with a mixture of defeat and confusion.

“Who knew pasta could be so difficult?” he groaned, looking over at her with a sheepish grin.

She laughed, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “It’s okay. You might be terrible at cooking, but you’re still my favorite person.”

He turned around, pulling her into a hug. “Yeah? Even when I mess up pasta?”

“Especially when you mess up pasta,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

They ended up ordering takeout, curling up on the couch as they ate, laughing over the mess they’d left in the kitchen. It was moments like these, filled with warmth and laughter, that reminded them both of why they were doing this—of the love that had brought them together and continued to hold them close, even through the difficult days.

One Friday evening, after a particularly intense game, Adam returned home, his energy still buzzing from the win. She greeted him at the door with a warm smile, feeling her own excitement swell as he swept her up into his arms, spinning her around.

“We won, babe!” he said, his grin infectious. “I can’t believe it—it was insane! I thought we were done for in the third period, but we pulled it off.”

She laughed, holding onto him as he set her down, his arms still wrapped around her. “I’m so proud of you, Adam. You were amazing out there.”

His eyes softened, and he pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. “Couldn’t have done it without knowing you’re here, waiting for me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

In that moment, she felt her heart swell with love, the struggles and loneliness of the past few weeks fading away as they held each other. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was soft at first, filled with a mixture of gratitude and longing. But soon, the kiss deepened, fueled by the passion that had been simmering beneath the surface.

They moved together to the bedroom, his hands exploring her as if he were memorizing every inch of her. Their kisses were slow and deliberate, each touch a reminder of the love they shared, the commitment they’d made to each other. They undressed slowly, savoring the intimacy, the connection that felt so much deeper after the time they’d spent apart.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, their breaths mingling as they whispered to each other in the quiet darkness. He told her about the game, sharing the small details he usually kept to himself—the nerves, the pressure, the way he’d thought of her during every break. And she listened, feeling closer to him than ever before, her fingers tracing light patterns along his chest.

As the night wore on, they drifted into a peaceful sleep, feeling a renewed sense of connection. For the first time in weeks, they both felt truly at home.

The next morning, she woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of soft music coming from the kitchen. She padded out of the bedroom, smiling when she found him standing by the stove, humming along to the song as he cooked.

“Look who’s trying to make up for last night’s pasta disaster,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

He laughed, turning around to kiss her. “I figured breakfast was the least I could do,” he said, grinning as he handed her a cup of coffee.

They spent the morning together, sharing a quiet breakfast, laughing and talking about their plans for the weekend. It was a simple, unremarkable moment, but to both of them, it felt like a little slice of happiness—a reminder of why they were doing this, and how much they meant to each other.

As they sat there, her hand in his, she felt a sense of contentment

Columbus, Ohio – Winter 2023

As the season progressed, Adam’s name began to pop up more frequently in the media. Headlines praised his impressive rookie performance, and clips of his plays trended on social media almost every week. Fans posted nonstop about his potential, and interviews with him were filled with questions about his goals and his future with the Blue Jackets. At first, it was exhilarating for both of them. Watching him on the ice, seeing how the city celebrated his success, made her heart swell with pride.

But as his fame grew, so did the pressures and the expectations. More demands on his time left him exhausted and often distracted. Nights out were frequently interrupted by fans wanting photos, or journalists eager for a quote, which Adam always handled with a smile, never wanting to disappoint anyone. She admired his dedication, but she began to feel as if they were sharing less and less of their world together.

One evening, after a particularly demanding week, they went out for dinner, hoping to carve out some time just for the two of them. But even in the cozy, dimly lit restaurant they’d chosen, whispers followed them, and a few fans approached their table.

“Hey, Adam, big fans—would you mind signing something for us?” one of them asked, an excited look on her face. Adam glanced at Y/N apologetically, but she gave him a small nod, urging him to go ahead.

He returned to their table after a few minutes, reaching for her hand, his face slightly flushed. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, his thumb tracing over her knuckles. “Guess this comes with the territory.”

She managed a small smile, but there was a twinge of something she couldn’t ignore—something that felt like loneliness. “It’s okay,” she said, keeping her tone light. “I’m just still getting used to sharing you with everyone.”

He looked at her, his expression softening as he realized the weight of her words. “You’ll never have to share me, Y/N. Not really. You know that, right?”

She forced a nod, but a part of her couldn’t ignore the growing fear that, eventually, the world might take too much of him. She squeezed his hand, trying to push the thought away. “I know,” she whispered, hoping she sounded more certain than she felt.

As the season wore on, the distance between them felt less like an occasional inconvenience and more like a permanent shadow that loomed over their relationship. Adam was constantly traveling for away games, and even when he was home, his mind was often preoccupied with training or strategies. The rare moments they did spend together were often late at night, with him collapsing into bed beside her, exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open as he murmured a sleepy “Goodnight.”

One evening, she finally couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer. They were sitting on the couch, him scrolling through his phone, catching up on game footage, when she spoke.

“Adam,” she began, her voice quiet but steady. He looked up, noticing the serious expression on her face.

“Yeah?” He set his phone down, his attention fully on her.

She took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I just…I miss us. I feel like we’re always together, but I’m not really with you. Not the way we used to be.”

A flicker of guilt crossed his face, and he reached for her hand. “Y/N…I know it’s been tough. I feel it too. I don’t want you to feel like I’m drifting away. I’m just trying to keep up with everything, you know? The team, the media, the expectations…it’s all so much.”

Her heart softened, and she placed her hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing over his skin. “I know, and I’m so proud of you. But I need you too. Not the player, not the celebrity—just you.”

He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re my whole world, Y/N. I don’t want to lose us in all of this.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. “Then let’s make time for each other. Even if it’s just little moments. I don’t want us to get lost in the noise.”

They sat like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s warmth, a silent agreement passing between them. They promised each other that, no matter what, they would find ways to stay connected, to hold onto the love that had brought them together in the first place.

A few weeks later, Adam surprised her with a weekend getaway. He booked a small cabin an hour outside the city, nestled in the woods, where they could disconnect from the world and just be together.

As they drove up to the cabin, she felt a thrill of excitement, the tension of the past few months melting away. The cabin was cozy, with a fireplace crackling in the corner, and a view of the snow-covered trees outside. They spent the first day simply enjoying each other’s company, cooking together, sharing stories, and laughing like they hadn’t in months.

That night, as they sat by the fire, wrapped in blankets, he pulled her close, his fingers tracing light patterns along her arm. “I missed this,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of tenderness. “I missed just being with you, away from everything else.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling with love. “Me too,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was slow, unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her onto his lap as he deepened the kiss, their breaths mingling in the quiet warmth of the room.

They moved together with a renewed passion, savoring each touch, each whisper. It felt like a rediscovery of everything they loved about each other, a reminder of the connection that went beyond the demands of his career. They undressed slowly, their bodies pressed together as they explored each other, the intimacy of the moment grounding them in a way that nothing else could.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, the glow of the fire casting a warm light across the room. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling a peace she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I love you,” he whispered, his fingers brushing through her hair. “More than anything. Thank you for being here, for sticking with me through all of this.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you too, Adam. Always.”

They drifted into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing that, no matter how tough things got, they would always find their way back to each other.

The weekend away renewed their strength, but as they returned to Columbus, the pressures of Adam’s career quickly crept back in. Yet, this time, they both held onto the memory of the cabin, the quiet promises they’d made to each other. They made an effort to carve out little moments—a morning coffee shared in comfortable silence, a late-night drive to clear their heads, a quiet dinner in their favorite restaurant where they could be just two people in love.

One evening, as they sat on the couch after another long day, she rested her head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn’t felt in months.

“Do you ever wonder if it’ll get easier?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at her, a gentle smile on his face. “Sometimes. But even if it doesn’t, I know we’ll get through it. We’re in this together, right?”

She smiled, her fingers lacing with his. “Always.”

In that moment, she knew that, no matter how intense the pressures of his career became, no matter how many obstacles they faced, they would find a way to hold onto each other. They were each other’s constant, the quiet strength that carried them through the noise and chaos. And in the end, that was all they needed.

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Adam pulled her close, his hands tracing light circles along her back. “Thank you for being my rock,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. “For always understanding, even when I’m not around as much as I want to be.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling with love. “You’re worth it, Adam. Every second.”

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, tender kiss, filled with all the gratitude and love he couldn’t put into words. They moved together, their bodies fitting perfectly, each touch a reminder of the promises they had made to each other. In the quiet darkness, they shared a connection that went beyond words, a love that was steadfast and unbreakable.

As they lay together afterward, wrapped in each other’s arms, she felt a renewed sense of peace, a quiet certainty that, no matter where life took them, they would always find their way back to each other.

Michigan and Beyond – Summer 2024

The off-season finally arrived, and with it came a long-awaited break from the demands and pressures of the NHL. For the first time in months, Adam didn’t have to rush off to practices, interviews, or endless travel. He was just…Adam, the guy she’d fallen in love with back in college, and for a few precious months, they were able to live without a schedule dictating every hour of their day.

It was late June when they decided to visit Michigan, eager to revisit the place where their journey began. The drive back was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated by laughter and the occasional off-key singing as they played their favorite songs from their college days. The familiar landscape rolled by, the roads bringing back memories of late-night drives, coffee runs, and spontaneous adventures.

When they arrived, the University of Michigan campus was quieter, the summer break leaving the buildings mostly empty. They parked the car and walked hand-in-hand through the familiar paths, the air filled with nostalgia.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Adam asked, glancing down at her with a soft smile. “I couldn’t even focus on practice that day. My teammates gave me so much grief for being distracted.”

She laughed, nudging him playfully. “I remember you nearly walked into a door because you were staring at me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Hey, I couldn’t help it. You looked…amazing. Still do.”

They wandered around the campus, revisiting their favorite spots—the library where they’d spent countless nights studying together, the little café where they had their first date, the rink where she’d cheered him on at every game. Each place held a memory, and they spent hours reminiscing, sharing stories and laughing at all the little things that had brought them together.

That evening, they drove out to a secluded lake where they had often gone during their college years to escape the world for a while. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the water, and the quiet of the place wrapped around them like a comforting blanket.

Adam spread out a blanket on the shore, and they lay side by side, watching the sky transform from soft pinks and oranges to deep purples and blues. He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, and she looked over at him, her heart swelling with love.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft and thoughtful, “coming back here with you… It reminds me of how lucky I am to have you in my life. I don’t say it enough, but I don’t know where I’d be without you, Y/N.”

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, her heart fluttering at his words. “Adam, I feel the same way. Being here with you, away from everything else, it’s like…this is how it’s supposed to be. Just us.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, their bodies pressed close as the cool evening breeze rustled around them. There was something grounding about being in that familiar place, surrounded by nature, with nothing but each other. They moved together in the fading light, every touch filled with tenderness, every kiss a promise of the love they’d built and the future they would share.

They spent the night lying on the blanket, watching the stars, talking about their dreams, their fears, and their plans for the future. It was a rare, cherished moment, the kind that only came when time seemed to stand still, and they could simply be together, with no demands or expectations.

The next day, they set out on a road trip across Michigan, stopping at small towns, scenic overlooks, and quirky little roadside attractions. The freedom of the open road was exhilarating, and they filled the trip with laughter, silly selfies, and spontaneous detours.

At one point, they stopped at a little antique shop in a small town, where she found a vintage record player she’d always dreamed of having. Adam insisted on buying it for her, despite her protests.

“Come on, it’s perfect for our apartment,” he said with a grin, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “And we’ll fill it with all our favorite records.”

She rolled her eyes, but her heart warmed at the gesture. “You’re spoiling me, you know that?”

He shrugged, a playful smile on his lips. “Well, you deserve to be spoiled.”

They ended up spending half the day exploring the shop, picking out records and laughing over the quirky finds. It was a small, simple moment, but it felt like a piece of happiness, one of those memories that would stay with them long after the road trip was over.

Their last night in Michigan, they decided to revisit their favorite college bar—a little dive just off campus where they had spent countless nights with friends, celebrating wins and commiserating over losses. They ordered their usual drinks, laughing as they slipped back into the carefree atmosphere of their college days.

The bar was filled with students, and a few of them recognized Adam, offering congratulations on his success with the Blue Jackets. He smiled, thanking them graciously, but he kept his attention on her, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist as if grounding himself in the present.

They danced to the old songs they’d loved in college, laughing as they spun each other around, letting loose in a way they hadn’t been able to in months. There was something freeing about being there, away from the eyes of the media, away from the pressures of his career. For that night, they were just Adam and Y/N, two people who had fallen in love in a little college town, and it felt like nothing else mattered.

As they left the bar in the early hours of the morning, he pulled her close, his voice soft in her ear. “Thank you for this,” he murmured, his eyes filled with gratitude. “For everything. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “We’re both lucky, Adam.”

They walked back to their car, hand in hand, feeling a renewed sense of connection, a reminder of everything that had brought them together.

When they finally returned to Columbus, they spent the next morning lounging around their apartment, savoring the last moments of their time off. They made breakfast together, laughing as they danced around the kitchen, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes and sipping coffee.

After breakfast, they curled up on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket as they listened to the records they’d bought on their trip. The soft melodies filled the room, and they sat in comfortable silence, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm draped around her.

“Do you ever think about the future?” she asked quietly, breaking the silence.

He looked down at her, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, all the time. Especially when I think about you.”

She smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement at his words. “What do you see?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening. “I see us. Maybe a house someday, a place we can really make our own. And…maybe a family, if that’s what you want.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her cheeks warming. “I’d like that,” she whispered, feeling a mixture of excitement and hope.

He pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Then that’s what we’ll have.”

They spent the rest of the morning wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about their dreams and the life they wanted to build together. It was a quiet, precious moment, a promise of the future they were creating, step by step.

As the off-season came to an end, they spent their last days together savoring every moment. They took long walks around the city, went on picnics, and spent late nights watching movies, laughing and holding each other close. Each moment was a reminder of the love they shared, the foundation they had built, and the dreams they had for the future.

On their final night before the season began again, Adam surprised her with a romantic dinner on their balcony, stringing up fairy lights and setting the table with candles and flowers. They spent the evening under the stars, sharing stories, laughter, and quiet, lingering kisses.

As the night drew to a close, he took her hand, his eyes filled with love and a quiet intensity. “Whatever happens this season, wherever this career takes me, I want you to know that you’re my priority. You’re the one thing that keeps me grounded, that reminds me of who I am. I’ll never lose sight of that, or of you.”

She felt her heart swell, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I know, Adam. And I’m here for you, no matter where this takes us. I love you.”

They shared a kiss under the stars, their hearts full of hope and promise. As they held each other close, they both knew that, no matter how demanding life became, they would always find their way back to each other. Their love was their anchor, their constant, and it was a promise that neither of them would ever break.

Columbus, Ohio – Mid-Season 2024

The season was in full swing, and Adam had been pushing himself harder than ever, determined to keep up with the demands of his growing career. Game after game, he poured everything he had into the ice, always eager to improve, to prove himself. But one night, after a particularly intense game, everything changed in an instant.

She was watching from the stands, cheering as usual, when she saw him go down. It was a rough play, and in a split second, Adam crashed to the ice, clutching his leg. Her heart stopped, a cold fear gripping her as she watched him wince in pain, his teammates gathering around him. The medical staff rushed onto the ice, helping him up, but the look on his face told her everything she needed to know—it wasn’t just a bruise or a scrape. Something was wrong.

After what felt like an eternity, they helped him off the ice, and she could see the strain in his face as he tried to put weight on his leg. Her stomach twisted as she rushed down to meet him, her mind racing with worry.

When she reached the locker room, she found him sitting on the bench, an ice pack pressed to his knee, his face pale. He looked up when he saw her, offering a weak smile, but she could see the frustration and fear in his eyes.

“Adam,” she whispered, rushing to his side. “Are you okay?”

He shrugged, letting out a bitter laugh. “Not really. Doc says it’s a sprain, maybe worse. They’re running more tests tomorrow.”

She sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Adam. You’re going to get through this.”

He nodded, but she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists as he struggled to hold back his frustration. “I just… I can’t believe this happened. I’ve been so careful, doing everything right, and now this? Right in the middle of the season?”

She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Hey, don’t think like that. This is just a setback, okay? You’re going to heal, and you’ll come back stronger. You’ve overcome so much already.”

He looked at her, his eyes softening as he took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They sat there for a while, her hand in his, both of them absorbing the reality of the situation. She could feel his vulnerability, the weight of his disappointment and fear, and it broke her heart to see him like this. But she was determined to be there for him, to support him through every step of his recovery.

The following days were a blur of doctors’ appointments, physical therapy sessions, and long, quiet evenings in their apartment. Adam was restless, the injury weighing heavily on him, and she could see how much it affected him. He tried to keep his spirits up, but there were moments when the frustration and doubt would creep in, clouding his usually optimistic outlook.

One evening, she found him sitting on the couch, staring at the floor, his shoulders slumped. She walked over, wrapping her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked gently, her voice soft.

He let out a heavy sigh, leaning back into her embrace. “I just feel…helpless. Everyone’s out there, giving it their all, and here I am, stuck on the sidelines, watching them. I don’t know how to just sit and wait.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her arms tightening around him. “Adam, you’re not alone in this. You have the whole team behind you, and you have me. We’ll get through this, one day at a time.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She shook her head, cupping his face in her hands. “You do. You deserve all the love and support in the world. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled her into a kiss, his hands gentle yet full of need, as if grounding himself in the comfort of her presence. She could feel the weight of his emotions, the vulnerability he rarely showed, and she held him close, offering all the reassurance she could.

That night, as they lay in bed, she could feel his tension, the worry that gnawed at him even as he tried to rest. She reached over, tracing light patterns along his arm, her fingers gentle and soothing.

“Adam,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the darkness.

He turned to face her, his expression softening as he looked at her. “Yeah?”

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “I know this is hard, and I know it’s frustrating. But I need you to know that this doesn’t change anything—not who you are, not what you mean to me. You’re still the same person, still the man I fell in love with.”

He reached for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. “I needed to hear that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Sometimes I feel like…like I’m letting everyone down.”

She shook her head, her gaze fierce. “You’re not letting anyone down. You’re human, Adam. You’re allowed to have setbacks, to feel frustrated. But you’re also strong, and you’re going to get through this. And I’ll be here every step of the way.”

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as he buried his face in her hair. They lay together in the quiet darkness, their breaths mingling as he let go of the fears he had been holding onto, surrendering to the comfort of her presence.

As the days turned into weeks, they settled into a new routine, one built around his recovery. She accompanied him to his physical therapy sessions, offering words of encouragement and holding his hand when the exercises became challenging. She could see the determination in his eyes, the way he pushed himself even when it was difficult, and it filled her with pride.

One afternoon, as they returned from a therapy session, he looked over at her, a small smile on his face. “You know, I couldn’t do this without you,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. “You make it all a little easier.”

She smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll always be here, Adam. We’re in this together.”

They spent the evening cuddled up on the couch, watching movies and sharing quiet moments of laughter. The injury, though difficult, had brought them closer in ways they hadn’t expected, revealing a strength in their relationship that went beyond the highs and lows of his career.

One night, after weeks of hard work and slow progress, Adam managed to walk unaided, taking a few steady steps across the room. She watched, her heart swelling with pride as he grinned at her, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice filled with joy. “I’m getting there.”

She rushed over, wrapping her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve come so far.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, their hands exploring each other as if rediscovering the love they had nurtured through the challenges of his recovery. That night, they moved together with a renewed sense of passion, each touch filled with gratitude, each kiss a reminder of the strength of their love. They lay together afterward, wrapped in each other’s arms, a quiet peace settling over them.

As they drifted into sleep, she felt a renewed sense of hope, a quiet certainty that, no matter what challenges they faced, they would always find their way back to each other.

When Adam was finally cleared to return to the ice, he was filled with a mixture of excitement and nerves. She watched from the stands, her heart pounding as he stepped onto the rink, his movements tentative at first but growing more confident with each stride.

As he skated, he looked up at her, offering a small, reassuring smile. She waved, her heart swelling with pride as she saw him back in his element, a part of the team once again.

After practice, he rushed up to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I did it,” he whispered, his voice filled with relief and joy. “I’m back.”

She hugged him tightly, her voice filled with pride. “I never doubted you, Adam. Not for a second.”

They shared a kiss, the world around them fading as they held each other, their love a constant in the whirlwind of his career. They had faced the challenge together, and they had come out stronger, their bond deeper than ever before.

That evening, as they returned home, they sat on the balcony, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. Adam took her hand, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along her skin.

“Thank you for being there for me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m the lucky one, Adam.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, their hearts full of love and hope for the future. As they watched the stars, they knew that, no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together, their love a constant light in the journey they had chosen to walk side by side.

Columbus, Ohio – Spring 2025

The season had been a wild success, both for the team and for Adam personally. With each game, he’d made his mark, proving himself not only as a strong player but as a dependable teammate and leader. But tonight was something extra special: Adam had reached a major career milestone—his 100th NHL goal.

Y/N watched from the stands, her heart racing as she saw the puck soar into the net, the entire arena erupting in cheers. She jumped up, clapping and cheering along with the crowd, a wave of pride swelling inside her. She caught his eye from across the rink as he skated back toward the bench, and he pointed up at her, a private little gesture that made her heart skip.

When the game ended, the crowd was still buzzing with excitement, chanting his name as he made his way off the ice. Y/N hurried down to the locker room, her cheeks flushed, anticipation bubbling up inside her as she waited to congratulate him.

The locker room was a whirlwind of laughter and celebration, his teammates congratulating him and slapping him on the back. When he finally spotted her waiting by the door, he broke into a grin, jogging over to pull her into his arms.

“Adam, I’m so proud of you!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “One hundred goals—you did it!”

He laughed, his eyes shining with excitement as he lifted her off the ground in a tight hug. “We did it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

They shared a quick, private kiss, his hands lingering at her waist as if he didn’t want to let go. She could feel the pride radiating from him, a joy she knew he’d worked so hard for, and it made her heart swell with love.

“Alright, lovebirds!” one of his teammates called out, laughing as he tossed a towel in their direction. “Save some of that energy for the party!”

Adam rolled his eyes, chuckling as he turned back to her. “Ready to celebrate?”

She nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “With you? Always.”

Later that night, the team threw a celebration in honor of Adam’s milestone. The restaurant was filled with laughter and music, everyone sharing stories and toasting to his success. She stayed close by his side, watching him light up as his friends and teammates congratulated him. There was a certain ease to him tonight, a glow that only came from the fulfillment of a dream realized.

At one point, his coach raised a glass, calling for everyone’s attention. “Here’s to Adam,” he began, his voice filled with pride. “A hundred goals is no small feat, but what makes this guy truly remarkable is his heart and dedication. He’s a role model on and off the ice, and we’re proud to call him one of our own. To Adam!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Adam looked over at her, his face a mix of pride and gratitude. She raised her glass to him, giving him a warm smile as she mouthed, “To you.”

After a while, they slipped outside, finding a quiet spot away from the crowd. The night was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the trees as they stood beneath the stars. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

“I still can’t believe it,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “A hundred goals. Feels like a dream.”

She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s no dream. You worked hard for this, Adam. You deserve every bit of it.”

He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity. “I wouldn’t be here without you, Y/N. You’ve been my rock through everything—the highs, the lows, the injuries… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, her heart swelling with love. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” she whispered, smiling through the emotion.

They shared a long, tender kiss under the stars, a private celebration of everything they had accomplished together. In that moment, she knew that, no matter where life took them, they would always have each other.

After the party, they returned home, both of them still riding the high of the evening. As soon as they stepped inside, he pulled her into his arms, his hands resting at her waist as he looked down at her.

“Dance with me,” he murmured, his voice soft.

She laughed, her cheeks flushing. “Adam, there’s no music.”

He shrugged, a playful grin on his face. “We don’t need music.”

He led her in a slow dance around the living room, their movements unhurried and gentle. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as they swayed together. It was a quiet, intimate moment, a perfect end to a night they would remember forever.

As they danced, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his voice filled with sincerity. “Thank you for believing in me, for standing by me through everything.”

She looked up at him, her heart overflowing with love. “Always, Adam. I’m with you every step of the way.”

They continued to dance, the world around them fading away, until they finally settled onto the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms. They spent the night talking about their dreams, sharing their hopes for the future, the love between them stronger than ever.

The following morning, they sat together on the balcony, sharing a quiet breakfast as the sun rose over the city. She looked over at him, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“So, what’s next for us?” she asked softly, reaching for his hand.

He looked thoughtful, a small smile playing on his lips. “Well, I know I don’t want to do any of it without you. Whatever the future holds, you’re my number one.”

She smiled, feeling her heart skip a beat. “Do you ever think about…you know, settling down? Maybe a place of our own? A family?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes shining with hope. “All the time. I want all of that with you, Y/N. A home, a family—everything.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, both of them feeling the weight of their shared dreams. The future felt open, a promise of everything they had worked for, and she knew that, whatever came next, they would face it together.

That evening, as the sun set, they decided to celebrate privately, sharing a bottle of wine on their balcony as the city lights began to twinkle. Adam poured them each a glass, raising his in a toast.

“To us,” he said, his eyes filled with love. “To everything we’ve built, everything we’ve overcome, and everything we’re going to create together.”

She smiled, clinking her glass with his. “To us.”

They sipped their wine, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling a sense of peace and fulfillment that only came from being truly loved. In that quiet moment, they both knew that, no matter where life took them, they had found something lasting and real—a love that would carry them through every victory, every setback, and every dream they held for the future.

As they looked out over the city, she rested her head on his shoulder, her heart full of love and gratitude. They were each other’s home, each other’s hope, and she knew that, no matter what, they would always find their way back to each other.

And as the stars began to appear in the night sky, they shared one last kiss, a quiet promise of everything they would share in the years to come.

[coffee-at-annies]

Cody Glass is maybe fine?

[swanhurrem]

Imprint: Chapter 8.

Embry Call x FemReader (no use of y/n)

Summary: You were best friends with Embry, Jacob and Quil. And you saw how each one of them walked away from you. What will happen when out of nowhere they try to fix their relationship?

A/N: Im sooo back, don't worry, I will keep updating all my series and I promise I won’t leave any unfinished. Enjoy!

Twilight Masterlist

Imprint Masterlist (this serie)

<Chapter 7 | Chapter 9>

When the Jeep parked in front of your house, you shouted at Chris to leave and let you be alone while you hobbled as quickly as you could to the porch. Upon entering the house, you slammed the door shut behind you and leaned against it while grabbing the hockey stick your father used to play with every weekend. Your mother hated that he left it lying by the entrance and always scolded him for it; right now, you were grateful he hadn’t listened those times.

You tightened your grip on the stick and began to crawl around the house with your back against the wall, turning on all the lights as you entered the rooms. Once the ground floor was clear, you did the same on the second floor, and when it was equally empty, you locked your door, placed a chair under the doorknob, and dragged your largest piece of furniture in front of the window, completely covering it. You spent the rest of the night sitting in a corner and managed to rest only when you heard your parents’ voices.

You were on your fifth day when you finally reached your breaking point. You had endured the incessant pain in your arms and head, but your back simply couldn’t bear your weight for another second. Your body was still full of foam when you wrapped yourself in a towel and called Sue Clearwater, asking her to please come to your house with her medical supplies. Sue was a specialized nurse, and many people in the reservation called her when there was a minor accident, as her expertise was in demand. You told her it was urgent because you knew otherwise she wouldn’t come to see you.

The people in the reservation were quite... gossipy. Whatever happened there spread like wildfire and was on everyone’s lips for months, so the breakup between Leah and Sam a few years ago kept everyone on edge for several months. It was a spark that only reignited when the town began to notice that Leah’s very own cousin, Emily, was meeting Sam in the woods almost every day. You remember how your parents talked about it even at the market with people they knew, how everyone told Sue how "sorry" they were.

After that incident, most of the calls to her were for minor injuries, accompanied by awkward questions about her daughter’s state and her niece’s terrible attitude, so she had given up on the idea of helping. She did so at a good time, as just a week later, Emily and Sam's relationship became official.

“I hate men” Umma declared holding her head.

Embry, Quil, Umma and you were in the library preparing an essay for history, when your classmate suddenly spoke.

“What are you talking about?” you asked distractedly.

“About Emily and Sam, silly” Quil replied, taking the blue pen from your hand that you were working with. He wasn’t doing anything important, really; he was just drawing shapes in one of the books.

Embry, who was picking up some books from a shelf, jumped next to you and whispered in your ear “The new gossip in town, aren’t you paying attention?”

You snatched the books from his hands while he smiled from ear to ear; annoying you was his favorite hobby, and any reaction you gave simply fueled him “I only pay attention to things that concern me; what strangers do in their private lives doesn’t interest me”

Embry took a chair from another table and sat next to you. He stared at you for a few seconds when suddenly touched your forehead with his index finger “You’re going to wrinkle” he said, pointing at your furrowed brow.

You swatted his hand away and sat up straighter, crossing your arms in front of you “Can you explain what their relationship has to do with your hatred?” you asked your classmate.

“Because everyone can leave you for someone else” she emphasized, pointing at your friends. “Like Sam, leaving his girlfriend for his girlfriend's COUSIN” the last part was a loud whisper, accompanied by a horrified expression directed at the boys.

“Don’t look at me; if the girl is hot, it’s reason enough” Quil commented, still focused on whatever he was writing.

“You're disgusting” you and Umma said at the same time, both throwing erasers at him. You could hear the other people in the library asking for silence over the laughter of your friends at your table.

A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. You turned your neck so quickly it cracked, and you swiftly grabbed the hockey stick that was on the toilet, still carrying it with you. A stupid move considering that if someone were going to attack you, they wouldn't knock on the door.

"Who is it?" you asked.

"Sue, darling. Can I come in?" Her voice made you feel at ease, and after putting the stick back in its place, you let her in.

When Sue entered, she scolded you for not having called her earlier, for being so underdressed in the bathroom with the skylight open, and for leaving the front door key in a flowerpot on the porch. Then she handed you a robe she had taken from your closet and guided you to your bed.

"Alright, what's my diagnosis?" you asked with humor in your voice, receiving a disapproving look in return.

"You're fine, darling. You were very lucky not to have broken any ribs or suffered a lumbar pinching with everything you've been doing since the day of the hit until today" she said while jotting something down on a paper you couldn't see. "But you pushed your body beyond its limits, and that's why you're in so much pain. So from now on, you'll be in bed for several days, and if you want, I can come help you on the days your parents can't be here" She finished speaking and placed the paper on your nightstand, her hand lingering there for a few seconds until she spoke again, this time more quietly than before "You can always... call Embry, I'm sure he—"

You interrupted her with clear disdain in your voice "I'm sorry for interrupting you, Sue, but you should know that I’ll be fine. I have someone to call anyway"

Days had gone by without thinking about Embry, and this wasn’t exactly the best time to bring him to mind. Ever since you saw him that day at the beach, you hadn’t been able to shake the immense guilt you felt over your feelings for him, considering your stable but deceitful relationship with Chris.

Sue let out a sigh as she stroked your arm "Alright... I’ll leave you the things to keep in mind on the paper, and I’ll talk to your mother later" She got up and grabbed her bag, giving you a smile. You returned it until it slowly faded, overshadowed by the one thought that filled your mind.

__

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@ rosebud1510

@notperfect-justme

@kenqki

@felinegrate

@bimbotinkerbell

@bookishbabyyyy

@tinyminxie

@babygirl097

[neonfretra]

i love everyone whos taking an interest to the sharks no matter what forces compelled yall <3 but also can i interest you in some of our guys that are older than 19 because i think the sharks truly excels at being the funniest collection of . guys, i guess

head coachs emotional support 2nd liner

last year (with david quinn) we had luke kunin as a second line center (hes a depth winger in teams that have more than five forwards and a dream). this year (with ryan warsofsky) we have jan rutta in second dpair . problem: they arent. good . theuy are CLOTH MOTHER!!!

we already have barclay goodrow at home

this is a quote from a tweet comparing kunin and goodrow but i CANT FIND IT...

i dont think we shoulda got barclay goodrow ill be real gang. i dont know what mike was doing here. anyways luke kunin is also our barclay goodrow at home (a bit of a goon, a bit of a leg weight) & we have barclay goodrow & warso loves sticking them together. & naturally theres some center with these two guys. (its currently will smith hockey)

the two old guys so to speak hook up

quoting this call from drew remenda regularly (~0:42 seconds in)

o captain my captain logan couture who has not touched ice since last season (but he played 6 beautiful games in our flop 23-24 season) && marc edouard vlasic (cousin of alex vlasic if you saw everyone getting pavlovian dog reactions every time they mentioned smaller pickle) who we last saw on ice last season...! theyre both out on injuries from the wear and tear of hockey and i honestly doubt we will see them again but i am incredibly fond of them.

heres some important things to know about marc edouard vlasic (pickles)! ^_^

divorced

yeah thats all i got for you

genuine question i have had for a while: how many of yall have never seen these guys on ice LOL

HOTEL CALIFORNIA!!!

oh my god we have SO many retired sharks that just. came back to work for the sharks. just off the top of my head:

mike grier (gm)

ryane clowe (assistant gm)

known landlords joe thornton (who is here for. vibes??? DOES HE GET PAID???) and patrick marleau (player dev coach)

tommy wingels (player dev coach)

mike ricci (player dev coach)

evgeni nabokov (goaltending dev coach) (not to be confused with goaltending dev coach thomas speer, known goalie whisperer)

mark smith (casting)

scott hannan (casting)

alex stalock (casting)

jason demers (casting)

david quinn has connections in the furry community (national hockey league) that could end your career in minutes

ex head coach dq (hes an assistant coach for the pens!) was really good at collecting guys from his prior teams, he used to be a coach for team usa in the olympics and for boston university . he knew gmmg (general manager mike grier) from bu! he also i know a guy'd his way to the pens!

funniest to me is henry thrun . dq WAMTED this guy . back in the college days ! see the thing is henry thrun we call him mr harvard. the one that got away NO LONGER...

swear to god theres another guy who dq ? i think ? loved SO much from his time with the rangers that he just kinda. snatched them with him to the sharks. BUT MY MEMORY IS BAD. I SWEAR IT HAPPENED. <- spent god knows how long paging through the shrimer

the san jose-new jersey highway

we keep collecting notable guys from new jersey... they arent even necessarily super notable IN jersey. mackenzie blackwood and vitek vanecek dont LOOK super good. i think both of them had insane injury records too?? and then we put them behind the sharks defense LMAOOOO

this post is written AFTER vitek vaneceks career record 49 save game BTW

ty equillibrium

did you know we traded away one ty (ty emberson) and also traded for one ty (ty dellandrea) . this is completely unrelated to anything .

the swedish mafia power struggle

we currently have five swedes: fabian zetterlnd, william eklund, alexander wennberg, carl grundstrom, and timothy liljegren ^_^

last season, it was a capital t thing that willyek was self appointing as head of the mafia with getting swedish meatballs at the rink (see previous link) and fabian zetterlund getting him coffee for his exit interview

alex wennberg as his senior IS challenging willyeks seating

riveting stuff. shout out to san jose shark media!