#sorry to my American hockey friends/followers

[justbackgroundnoise]

Back to back reverse sweeps 👏 We love to see it!

[simmyfrobby]

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.

[fruitcoops]

hi!! been loving all your fics lately 😍

I’m wondering if you’d have fun writing something where logan and sirius (and talker? someone else?) are playing video games with the headsets on and talking to each other and then somebody steps away and accidentally leaves the headset on and the other two overhear stuff with the boyfriend(s) 👀

could be coops or o’knutzy or both, could be before everyone knows about whichever relationship or after, or both!!

Silly fluff on a Thursday! Utterly non-spicy, too :) Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Fucker.”

“From the bottom of my heart—and know that I mean this with every bit of my soul—I hope you die.”

“Oh, sh—fuck, sorry guys.”

For just a moment, their dismay harmonized. The sounds of battle ceased and the screen went dark.

Sorry, You Died.

“I mean, maybe if you two didn’t discuss half your plans in French…”

“Woah, woah, hey, come on,” Logan protested over Sirius’ indignance. In the small icon to the far right, Thomas raised his hands with a look that distinctly lacked apology.

“This is aggression against Canada,” Sirius scoffed. “Classic Americans.”

“Aggression against Canada?” Thomas spluttered.

“Yeah,” Logan chimed in, adjusting his headset over one ear as he reached for a handful of chips. “That. Totally.”

“Tremzy, if you eat those into your headset, I will crawl through the screen and suffocate you.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at Sirius’ video square and made sure his microphone was in prime position to capture the deafening CRUNCH that followed.

Twin groans answered; Thomas removed his headset with a fake gag. “That just echoed across my living room, you little weirdo,” Sirius grumbled.

“Get a headset like the rest of us, lame-ass.”

“It’s worse that way,” Thomas chimed in.

“I told you,” Sirius continued with a whine Logan wished the press could hear before lauding him as some solemn superhero. “It was supposed to be here today.”

“Oh, yeah?” Logan said mockingly, just because he could. “Where is it, then?”

Sirius groused a little more under his breath; the sound of aggressive clicking followed as he moved his character over to whale on Logan’s for a few seconds. It didn’t damage his XP too much, but Logan filed that away for later. Somebody wasn’t getting his extra tincture of healing at the next checkpoint.

The Field of Regeneration was further from their goal than he would prefer—it had taken them an hour and a half to get to the mountains the first time, but he had faith that the fourth time would be the charm. There was a saying about that, he thought. Something like it. He rolled his ankles under the coffee table as their characters moved over the hills in a pack, bracing his arches against the table leg for a better stretch. His toes popped and he grimaced; they really hadn’t moved much today. Then again, early summer was made for lazy days in front of the television with his friends.

Sirius swung by the boulder pile and collected the healing kits the same as before. Logan didn’t bother waiting for him—they had been though this section enough that he could catch up on his own. He had promised Leo they’d reach a stopping point by 6:30, anyway, and there was no chance he would pick video games over acting as a sous chef, paid in kisses.

The chirps faded as they made their way past challenges that had once been world-ending. Logan was glad they weren’t dragging this out longer, too focused on reaching the checkpoint to fuck around. It was one of many reasons he would choose Sirius and Thomas for weekend games over anyone else; they had fun, but they knew how to settle down and win.

Logan grimaced. Hockey brain was supposed to be banished until at least July.

“Let us know when your setup gets here, Cap.” Thomas’ voice startled him; he barely avoided stumbling into a ravine.

“Ouais, we’ll give it a test run.”

They were coming up on the edge of the forest, now. Logan swapped his inventory around and carefully sidestepped the spike trap he had (unfortunately and with great embarrassment) fallen for the second time around.

Sirius’ mouth twitched. “Hey, Tremz, watch your—”

“Shut up, god, I hate you so much.” Their digitized snickering filled his ears and he made sure to be on solid ground before freeing a hand to flip them the bird. “I’ll go call Sunny and Kuns to play instead. See if I care.”

“Don’t you have two boyfriends within arm’s reach at all times?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “They are on a date, if you must know. And Leo hates character games.”

“Ew, you know what kind of video games they like?” Sirius teased.

“Aren’t you literally married?”

Thomas skipped past a cursed runestone and reclined back in his seat. “I think we can all agree that I’m winning here.”

“If you were here in person, I would throw something at you for that,” Logan informed him. Did it matter that he was greatly looking forward to having Thomas around for Christmas in a few months? No. Not here, not now, not while he was within chirping range. The very lenient penalty for dating his sister had been clear from the start. Logan couldn’t let him get too comfortable.

The greatest threat to achieving their goal appeared just as they reached the base of the mountains. Logan was feeling so proud of their quick time before that.

“Which game?” Remus asked from the corner of Sirius’ frame, unloading his pockets on the side table.

Sirius tilted his chin up for a kiss to the cheek, like he had no respect for Logan’s poor, innocent eyes. “Legendborn, with T and Tremzy.”

Remus hummed. He tugged at the collar of Sirius’ shirt with one finger, biting at his lower lip. Logan’s stomach dropped through the fucking floor. “Want to come upstairs for a bit?”

“NO!”

Remus flinched hard at the resounding shout from three different voices, then burst out laughing; Sirius reddened faster and more vibrantly than Logan had ever seen. “Dear god, Loops!” Thomas sounded downright scandalized. “The man doesn’t have a headset! Give us some grace! Some warning!”

Logan wrenched his microphone closer to his mouth with a clumsy hand. “You’re paying for my therapy, Lupin.”

Remus managed to pull his face from Sirius’ shoulder long enough to stumble through part of an apology before breaking down into laughter again. “Fuck—my bad, my bad, I didn’t realize.”

“Clearly!”

“Keep your husband under control, Captain!”

Sirius turned a lecherous smile on them, then caught Remus by the front of his shirt and pulled him down to lick a long, wet, horrendous stripe up his cheek. Logan threw his controller aside and flopped backward on the couch, hands over his eyes, as hysterical laughter and Thomas’ spluttered protests filled his ears.

“I thought you two would finally be normal and boring after you got married,” he groaned, sinking deeper into the cushions. Sirius, the menace, was damn near cackling. “Can you stop being freaks about each other for two fucking seconds?”

“Nope!” Remus said cheerfully. “It’s state-sanctioned now, actually.”

“Marital bliss,” Sirius agreed. “You’re just jealous.”

Logan peeked through his fingers and found Thomas shaking his head. “T, if I ever lick one of my boyfriends, I want you to take me out behind the rink like Old Yeller.”

“Jealous,” came Sirius’ singsong answer. Remus made himself comfortable with his chin on Sirius’ head, grinning madly.

Losers, the both of them. Lame and sweet and married to a nauseating degree. God, Logan couldn’t wait for his turn. Preferably, though, it would wait until after he had logged off.

[sophsicle]

I feel (fear?) that you are the only person I can come to with this question. I have recently become enamored with hockey. I followed KYD and also read quite a few books you recommended (Thrown Off the Ice, my beloved ❤️), and so I got hooked. I’m watching random games and loving it and learning so much. However…the problem is…I need a team. I have no connection to hockey whatsoever, and there isn’t even a team in my state (I’m sorry to tell you I’m *cough* north american all lowercase *cough*). I want a team to root for, but I don’t want to pick something ~obvious~ because I don’t want to feel so bandwagony, but also I want a fun team with players I can both root for and swoon over (I’m only human). Ugh, I’m just lost. Help. If you were starting from scratch with no loyalties, who would choose?!?

hmmmmm interesting

I feel like I might go for the Canucks? like, wholesome captain Quinn Hughes who loves his brothers, constantly looks confused or afraid (which is very relatable 2 me personally) and is also a stellar hockey player, plus they're like sort of the underdog that's rising up out of the ashes of years of hardship doing way better than anyone thought, and while i don't think they'll win it this year, I feel like they have the potential to be stanley cup contenders in the future so cheering for them will not break your soul,

I'll throw the habs (the montreal canadians) in there because i love them so i gotta, no one believes in them right now but they're also not doing as bad as people thought they would, and you have Cole Caulfield who is tiny and smiley and jumps on his teammates and his best friend Nick Suzuki who is two years older than him and yet acts like his dad (i can fully see nick putting a leash on cole just so he doesn't get lost when they go out), they are kind of in a rebuild but the dream is that over the next few years they will just be getting better and better, there's potential is what i'm trying to say!

im partial to the Avs too (colorado Avalanche) because Nate MacKinnon is just a lil boy who is trying so so hard always and is full of self doubt and anxiety (which, again, very relatable 2 me), and also Cale Makar who is like a mathlete who can fuck you up

these are the teams currently coming to mind!

[korshrimpski]

CARTER YAKEMCHUK APPRECIATION POST

Carter Yakemchuk was drafted 7th overall and all you have to do is click my profile to see why I’m doing this

A physical offensive defenceman

last season with the Calgary Hitmen he got 30 goals which is the franchise record by a defenceman

might seem like he has a personality of a carboard cut out but it's because he's *dialed*

Literally any interview with him he’s so reserved

Was expected to go 11th out of the North American skaters but on draft day he went 7th!!

He leaned on his teammate/roommate from the Calgary Hitmen Carson Wetsch during the drafting process (draft combine, interviews, prospect games etc.)

quote he said about Carson Wetsch during the draft experience, “I mean the whole year, just to go through with it with Wetsch is pretty special… to be here with him, you know it’s just a familiar face I can go to talk to and it’s been a great experience to do it with him.”

And to add more to these two, this photo

He prefers two way defensemen and likes Morgan Rielly and Evan Bouchard’s game and how they produce offensively

His nickname is yak

He graduated last year (2023) and jokingly called himself an academic weapon after while earlier that school year he allegedly was 50 days behind him in school work (he’s so real for that)

Un-privated his Insta account after he got drafted

The saying “yak on the attack” better follow this man around I’m not joking

Like the classic cup in the helmet to prank his teammates

Had 35 friends and family attending his draft, which is insane, but good for him hope everyone had a fun time

He talks a lot about how he likes spending time with his family

Represented team Canada on the U18 team in 2023 and came 3rd

When asked what other job he would have if it weren’t hockey player he said he would go into another sports most likely NFL (and play quarterback specifically)

His cheat meal is a burger

Loves fishing

“What animal would you be?” He answered a crocodile on the ice and a monkey off the ice and his reasoning is because they are calm

His favourite player growing up was Jordan Eberle

he’s an oilers fan

He was born in Fort McMurray Alberta, grew up in Fort Saskatchewan which is 25km away from Edmonton

Should mention that he’s not going to play in the NHL next season he’s just going to be a sens prospect

Anyways sorry this is so short this is all I could find about him :)

[crumblestew]

I wanna hear about your PDh rewrite

whats like, the plot your going for

HELLO HI!!!

I’d like to preface this by saying I’m a super busy student in my A-Level year so I’m not actually making it. But I can make comics and explain the plot theoretically on tumblr :D

First of all it’s Katemau centric because I’m a useless bisexual.

Now more importantly, there’s two main schools in this, Phoenix Drop High and O’Kasis Academy. It’s also sort of following MCD in a more direct way? I’ll run down all the main cast

Aphmau Floraz - Age 16. She has been homeschooled her whole life and is super stoked to be attending high school. Attends PDH and gets up to general protag shenanigans.

Aaron Lycan - Age 18. Aaron is not a love interest! He’s still FC but they meet online while she’s at PDH and not before. They’re nerdy gamer friends and I <3 them. Platonic nerd aarmau for the soul

Katelyn Adhikari - Age 16. APH’S LOVE INTEREST!!! Katelyn used to attend O’Kasis Academy where she was captain of the girl’s football (soccer) team and also on the student council, run by Zane. Some shit goes down and it all ends with Zane getting Jeffery expelled and triggering a series of events that makes Katelyn want to leave. She now attends PDH and is on the football team there. She’s also Ivy’s ex :0

Nana Ishida - Age 15. Nana is a member of the baking club!! She wants to go to a technical college to become a patisserie chef and she often struggles with not being as academic as some of her friends. Lucinda is always around to give her a pep talk if she’s really struggling :,). She’s also dating Danté. She likes anime but she goes by her own name not Kawaii-Chan. Liking anime is what she bonds with Aphmau over

Danté Captain - Age 15. Danté is not gross in my rewrite, and is much more like his MCD counterpart!! After a messy breakup with Nicole, he was a bit sceptical about dating someone. However, he bonded with Nana over failing a maths test and they really hit it off. He’s really good at boxing but so far he’s never beaten Gene

Lucinda Claire - Age 16. Lucinda is an icon. She’s still a witch and she’s part of like. The main girl four (Aphmau, Katelyn, Nana and Lucinda). She’s been friends with Nana for years and the two are a very chaotic team. Teachers are warned to sit them across the room from each other when they first start, and they turn everything into a competition. Lucinda also knows how to comfort someone after a breakup or smthn, but does not do well with her own.

Laurance Zvahl - Age 17. Laurance captains the guys football (again, soccer) team and he is super messy lol. Ask him about his middle school emo phase and you are DEAD (not really, he’ll just laugh it off, then ask that you don’t mention it). Not much has changed here, but again he’s not a love interest for Aphmau really? I don’t like love triangle stuff too much so I wanna make it more slow burn adjacent. He was adopted by Hayden when he was super young and if you hurt Cadenza he will hate you forever. He did also used to roll with Gene and co

Gene Captain (18), Sasha Smyth (17), and Zenix Martinez-Jones (15) are the shadow knights still!!! They’re sort of Gene’s weird loner group, not much has changed here. Gene wants to be a boxer, Sasha gets away with everything because of her 4.0 and Zenix wears trousers 5 sizes too big for him. They’re silly.

Ivy Vernon (16) and Janus Argan (17) are kinda background antagonists for a bit??? Ivy is Katelyn’s ex and the head of the OKA girls hockey team. She’s an absolute menace . Janus is Zane’s close friend and always wants the best for him. He ends up with Zane. Janus is on the American football team.

Travis Valkrum - Age 16. I almost forgot about Travis because I do not like him at all. No Travlyn here whatsoever lmao. I will lean into the sweetheart thing he had going on in pdh!! Basically a ray of sunshine, and things pickup lines are so suave and cool. He’s really interested in classical music.

THE ROMEAVE BROTHERS: here is where we get really messy and find some main conflict

Garroth Ro’Meave - Age 18. Also no longer a love interest. Garroth Ro’Meave has a heart of gold and is always trying his best. He absolutely loves sports and board games. He could not stand his father and ran away from home in the summer between Junior and Senior year. He enrolled himself at PDH and cannot legally be made to return home, and this sets up a lot of the conflict. Garté is a very famous businessman and politician and the tabloids are finding it hard to avoid discussing the family drama, especially with Vylad being public news. Garrance is also endgame

Zane Ro’Meave - Age 16. Debate team. Anyone who knows me knows I love Zane, and I am so normal about him in this. He’s the student council head (the SC is the Jury, idk if I made that clear) at O’Kasis academy until Garté gets really antsy to get Garroth back. Garté basically forcefully transfers Zane to PDH and says he can’t go back to O’Kasis Academy until Garroth comes home. Character development and chaos ensues, while he’s finally forced to face everyone he’s hurt and his feelings about his dad. Much less importantly, Zane gets a boyfriend by the end. It’s Janus (as in the silver death), who’s been his friend the whole time.

Vylad Ro’Meave Fletcher - Age 15. Sick of her husband, Zianna had an affair with another guy. Garté didn’t like how dissimilar Vylad looked to him and forced her to get a DNA test. He basically forced Zianna to give Vylad up, and he’s currently staying in a foster home. It’s public knowledge that he is a Ro’Meave, but it’s just not really talked about in a serious context (kinda Boris Johnson’s kids). Suddenly he’s at the same school as his two older brothers and getting to reconnect with them, and it’s all a lot at once. He’s also the person who convinced Sylvanna that Aphmau should come to PDH on an open day.

It’d be kinda Sex Education vibes??? More than one main character and it focuses on all their conflicts, but the overarching story is Katemau and the conflict between Zane and Garroth, both of which would come to a peak on the night of the winter dance :)

IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG!!! If you have any questions or characters you’re curious about hmu

[vantasei]

required reading: click here

hi. im vanitas or varus. aka vans® off the wall. they/them bigender bisexual bpd babe. neopronouns are sheepy/sheepy's and if you use those ill love you forever. 23. korean-american. bay area sweep. dont like dealing with people under 18. sorry.

sideblogs breathlighttimespace: mostly aes blog ft other misc stuff rvby: personal posts ft some writing i do (not a vent blog. mostly fandom takes.) dhampiric-vantasei: my art i have more but i dont like having them linked to main lol

kin carrd. i kin but im not gonna be weird about it unless i know you like that.

only courtesy tags i do are #blood, #body horror, and sometimes #gore. im really bad at identifying things that can be considered those though so generally dont expect cw tags from me. also i talk a lot in tags and if i follow you. you are my friend now sorry.

i am always open to dms. discord is vantasei but if you wanna get to know me better, joining my server is the way to go

vantasei on twt + spacehey + basically everything.

i stream games on twitch sometimes. and upload various things on youtube too.

tag me in sheep and ram related things! if you send me a goat i will be sad. if you send me things in general though ill love you forever.

sports teams baseball: mainly the sf giants. wilmer flores superfan. hockey: wpg jets and sj sharks. football: sf 49ers; tb buccs (ASU!!) basketball: gs warriors (not super into basketball yet) soccer is a trigger for me so i cant follow it, sorry. not exclusive w sports teams. i will cheer for other teams if i think theyre neat. anti-houston astros, anti-dallas stars tho. have personal beef with jose altuve. will lb sports on here.

other bio accessible here.

[daysdraem]

JULIA YANG TAKES A LIE DETECTOR TEST .

"  we're  going  to  be  taking  a  lie  detector  test  today.  you  will  be  hooked  up  to  the  machine,  and  we  will  ask  you  a  series  of  questions  -  whether  you  tell  the  truth  or  lie  is  up  to  you,  but  the  test  wil  be  able  to  snitch  out  any  lies."

"  okay,  that  sounds  easy  enough.  "

"  to  start,  what  is  your  first  name  and  what  city  are  we  in  ?  "

"  seoyeon   yang—  i  adopted  the  name  julia  in  grade  school.  we're  currently  in  manhattan.  "

"  thank  you.  how  are  you  feeling  today  ?  "

"  nervous,  but  also  excited.  i've  never  done  anything  like  this  before.  "

"  understandable.  how  about  an  easier  one  -  what's  your  favourite  colour  ?  "

"  currently,  it's  milennium  pink—  specifically.  it  constantly  changes.  "

"  and  your  favourite  film  genre ?  "

"  romantic  comedy,  especially  on  a  lazy  sunday  with  a  bottle  of  wine.  "

"  let's  see  -  what  is  one  thing  you  wouldn't  be  found  without ?  "

"  oh,  this  is  an  easy  one  !  i  always  have  a  lip  gloss  or  lip  oil  of  some  kind—  either  that  or  a  perfume  oil.  "

"  keeping  it  light,  what's  your  drink  of  choice  ?  "

"  i  don't  drink  often,  but  i  love  mezcal  margaritas.  "

"  which  of  the  following  have  you  attended,  and  would  you  attend ?  "

the  ballet.  the  met  gala.  the  horse  track.  the  race  track.  a  yacht  party.  the  opera.  the  orchestra.  a  broadway  show.  a  shakespeare  production.  a  concert.  a  comedian.  an  (  american  )  football  game.  a  soccer  /  football  game.  a  documentary  film.  a  film  premiere.  a  polo  game.  art  museum.  wine  tastings.  nyc  sightseeing  tour.  celebrity  sightseeing  tours.  haunted  tours.  charity  galas.  fashion  shows.  fashion  week.  disneyworld  /  disneyland.  a  basketball  game.  a  hockey  game.  a  baseball  game.  a  boxing  match.  a  cricket  match.  the  golf  course.  the  olympics.  

"  oooh,  we're  jumping  into  something  a  bit  heavier  now.  what  is  the  one  thing  you  want  to  achieve  in  life  ?  "

"  i  want  to  become  more  than  just  an  influencer.  this  life  is  fun,  knowing  that  people  love  seeing  my  everyday  life,  but  i  want  more.  i  love  fashion,  so  i  hope  whatever  is  out  there  for  me  includes  doing  something  within  that  scope.  "

"  who  knows  what  the  fates  have  ​​​​​​​in  ​​​​​​​store.  ​​​​​​​how  do  you  feel  about  reputation.com ?  it's  ​​​​​​​all  ​​​​​​​anyone  ​​​​​​​seems  ​​​​​​​to  be  ​​​​​​​talking  about  lately.  " "  i  don't  really  know  how  i  feel  about  it.  on  one  hand  it's  kind  of  funny,  but  on  the  other  it  just  seems  like  it's  people  who  have  nothing  else  better  to  do.  seems  a  little  weird  to  keep  tabs  on  people  like  that,  but  whatever.  "

"  everyone  is  entitled  to  their  own  opinion,  i  guess.  what's  the  weirdest  /  craziest  headline  you've  read  about  yourself  there  ?  "

"  i  went  home  to  korea  earlier  this  year,  and  i  apparently  got  married  while  there  !  i  bumped  into  an  old  friend,  but  i  guess  our  hangouts  were  a  little  too  intimate  than  we  thought  they  were.  "

"  what's  something  you  are  currently  working  on  ?  "

"  i  don't  think  i'm  at  liberty  to  say—  not  yet.  sorry  !  "

"  i'll  look  forward  to  it.  one  last  official  question  -  and  it's  an  easier  one.  cats  or  dogs ?  "

"  i  hope  you  do.  oh,  easy—  dogs.  specifically  cockapoos.  "

"  personally,  i'm  a  dog  fan  anyday.  anything  else  you'd  like  to  add ?  "

"  hmm,  i'd  just  say  thank  you  for  having  me,  and  i  hope  reputation.com  finds  something  else  better  do  do  with  their  time.  plus,  right  now  all  of  the  stories  are  rather  boring.  "

"  well,  thank  you  so  much  for  joining  us  today  ​​​​​​​-  can't  ​​​​​​​wait  ​​​​​​​to  ​​​​​​​have  ​​​​​​​you  ​​​​​​​back  ​​​​​​​with  ​​​​​​​us  soon."

"  thank  you  !  i  can't  wait  to  come  back.  "

[smileysvech]

hi! i have a question and you're gonna be the one I ask it to asjhgjf sorry to bother you buuuut... for the past decade or so i've been only a football (or soccer for my fellow north-americans) and f1 fan but I've seen a match or two of hockey in the past and lately at my grown age of 24 i started to have a midlife crisis and feel like i want to enjoy more things and honestly just suffer more with this thing we call sports and I began to feel *consumed by the desire* of getting more into hockey but idk where to start? hockey isn't very relevant or really that well known in my country so I was wondering if you or any of your followers here would have some tips on where to begin and how bc so far I'm lost 😭 thx and sorry for this long ass ask

oh my gosh please it’s no bother at all!! welcome to hockeyblr! 🫶🏼

honestly, I’m still pretty new to hockey considering I only started watching and following a few teams during the 2021 playoffs. tbh most things i’ve learned were from watching games and learning along the way with some google searches to help me learn some of the terminology and i’m still learning things as i go. I also have some pretty cool and knowledgeable friends like @pyotrkochetkov and @hockstuff who were kind enough to answer any questions I had.

as for getting into specific teams/players, sometimes a player just intrigues me and i go through their tags a little mindlessly and fall down a rabbit hole of watching their highlights or interviews or the fun little games they do for social media and it sucks me in and then i start looking up their teammates and the teams. also, some accounts make “primers” which give you a quick run down of the team’s history, current players, culture/traditions, etc. I also used to watch some of the hockey guy’s videos on youtube because he’s really knowledgeable about all the team’s histories and he makes videos about every team.

sometimes I also listen to podcasts or follow local reporters for my teams to keep up with any news. the athletic is a pretty good source in my opinion and their monthly subscription is like $2 I think.

sorry if this isn’t as helpful as you were hoping for but if anyone else wants to add in, i’ll definitely share!

[deviliciousdev]

MBTI✨ Meet Cute? Meet. Cute.🖤

entp (the debater)

x

infj (the advocate)

budding romance

ft. intp (the logician) friend

--------------------------------

[entp & intp at an arcade bar 👾🍺🥃🍸🍹🥂]

entp: [playing intp in air hockey] HA! take that bitch!

intp: you HAD YOUR HAND ON THE TABLE IT DOESNT COUNT!

entp: oh really because the little digital score board begs to differ...

intp: son of bitch.

[waitress brings entp the drink they ordered, and winks at them as entp says thanks]

intp: op. now i'm not an expert on human sexual behavior... but-

entp: yeah no shit. actually the opposite of an expert. whats the word i'm looking for for, idiot.

intp: 😐... BUT, the waitress chick, huh? huh? wink, wink, nudge, nudge? [goofy smile]😜

entp: did you just say "wink, wink" instead of winking...

intp: the alcohol is affecting my facial muscles and i was afraid you wouldn't get my intent on cadence alone...

entp: [camera looks]

intp: but anyway stop changing the subject, so? waitress chick, she's cute, you should go for it, ya know do a little dance, make a little love... basically just get down tonight... [snorts in humor at their own joke]

entp: yeah... i don't think so. i haven't really been into the dating scene lately... it's mostly disappointing, and sometimes cringe worthy.

intp: ok first of all until i met entj that's ALL the "dating scene" was in my experience, so sorry if i don't feel that bad for you. besides you're probably just being dramatic, it can't be that bad.

entp: [looks at intp with intense deadpan] the last date i went on, she looked almost 10 years older than her profile picture, and when she said in her bio she was a nature lover i assumed she liked to hike or some shit, but no... she was a taxidermist... she brought her latest "project" to our date...

intp: yikes.

entp: yeah. it was weasel. and it's eyes followed you wherever you moved...

intp: 😬

entp: so i'm thinking i might take a breather from "dating" for the moment.

intp: [shrugs]🤷‍♀️/🤷

entp: [sips old fashion 🥃] [winces] oof god what'd they do dump the entire bitters bottle in here, ugh!🤮 i'm gonna get this re-made.

intp: alright i'm gonna hit the bathroom all that vodka is gettin to me...

[entp approaches bar]

entp: hey uh think i could get a new one, this one is... bad... sorry i couldn't think of a nicer way to say that soooo, yeah.

bartender: bad huh? may be i should get you something more suited for you. like a daiquiri...

entp: ok, first of all daiquiris are delicious and if i wanted one i would feel no shame about ordering one. but i ordered an old fashioned my go to drink since i was 12, not a glass of bitters and a splash of Bourbon, so if we could change the tone and i could get new drink that'd be great, thanks.

bartender: [nods passive aggressively and takes entp's drink]

entp: [to self] god everything's disappointing. [hears cheering behind them, turns, still leaning on bar counter]

[someone collides into entp and spills drinks all over them💥]

entp: [angry😡] oh dude what the hell- are you bli- [sees the person, and is attracted to them] 😳

infj: oh my god! i am so sorry!! [hands on head] 🤭 i've been having a really dumb day, i got a parking ticket, and then the dry cleaners lost my new coat, and- and why am i telling a stranger all of this... look i'm really sorry, can i give you some money for dry cleaning?? i feel so bad about this.

entp: [tone has completely changed] oh no don't worry about it, it's just... liquid... sticky liquid... but no no seriously it's really not a big deal.

infj: please, let me at least buy you drink??

entp: hmm, ok sure, thanks 😏

[both stand next to bar]

infj: infj [shakes entp's hand]

entp: entp 🤝😸

infj: so what are you drinking?

entp: any dark smokey liquor.

bartender: [slides entp a huge frozen daiquiri with fruit on a stick and tiny umbrella] [sarcastically] your new and improved... less bitter... drink... sir...

entp: [angrily looks from side to side, with an expression that says, damn it.]

infj: [trying not to laugh] wow yeah that's a smokey drink...

entp: [nods with a smile]

[both laugh a little]😄😅

entp: [notices dirty looks group at a table are giving them] whyyyy are those people staring at us like we're about to be sacrificed...

infj: oh, yeah, those are my co-workers we took the lady in the blue blazer out to cheer her up, she just got dumped, so were supposed to be celebrating independence and hating people [raises eyebrows]

entp: huh, what do you do?

infj: i work at the embassy, in the Ambassador's cabinet as a cultural liaison.

entp: holy shit. that's fucking epic. so do you speak more than one language??

infj: aha, well thank you. and yes i do, fluently i speak German, Spanish, Italian, French, Arabic, and Japanese. i do speak some Russian but it is... rough haha 😄

entp: that's amazing. i took american sign language in high school and a course on high elvish in college when i was bed ridden with... mono... [joking smug face] 😏

infj: [with a wide smile] wow. i'm impressed.

entp: [jokingly] yeah i'm pretty impressive. [sips daiquiri🍹]

infj: 😄

[a voice calls out to infj angrily]

infj: oh, i should probably get back to them. [motions to co-workers]

entp: oh yeah, totally. um, before you go, would you may be wanna grab dinner sometime??

infj: oh, you're really sweet and funny, it's just that, i just moved to the city, and i'm really busy at the Embassy right now, so i'm not actually dating right now, but may be we can be friends?

entp: ah, got it. well yeah ya know i'm a good friend to have aha. and to prove i'm such a good friend, if you want to make your co-worker who got dumped happy, you can throw a drink in my face, make it look like you're fiercely independent.

infj: ahaha, really?

entp: yeah what's a little more drink all over me huh?

infj: haha, again i'm sorry about before. and you know she would probably love that...

entp: go for it.

infj: [hesitates for a moment, before tossing a drink in entps face] 🍸💥 [sneakily gets out business card and sticks it in entp's shirt pocket] [whispers] thanks. 😊 [goes back to friends]

[intp approaches]

intp: ooooofffff, shot downnn, that blows, sorry dude.

entp: [gets infj's card out of pocket and wiggles it in front of intp]

intp: unless that's a pocket sized restraining order, i am... thoroughly confused.

entp: [looking across bar at infj] i'm gonna marry them.

intp: [shaking head as they sip their drink] so confused...

[to be continued...]

[montrealmadison]

drink deeply

or, as they say at samwell, “penitus potes.” shitty gives the toast at jack and bitty’s wedding. for @zimbitsweddingofficial and day two of zimbits wedding week: the wedding itself!

just for fun, a draft version of the beginning of this fic with lardo, ransom, and holster’s “helpful” edits can be found via google doc here. hope y’all enjoy! <3

Good evening, everyone! On behalf of Jack and Eric, thank you all so much for being here tonight, and welcome to what could very well be the most highly anticipated wedding reception of 2019. I mean, this party was planned by the likes of Suzanne Bittle and Alicia Zimmermann. We are in for a treat, folks.

Before we get to all that, I’d also like to extend a particular welcome to those in attendance who are part of the playing, coaching, and/or office staff of the Providence Falconers. Glad you could all make it this evening; I know this past week was a little bit busy for you guys.

[Insert appropriate pause and gesture to the punch bowl, which on closer inspection is actually—oh yeah—the Stanley Cup the Falcs won three days ago. Hold for inevitable applause, general hysteria, and/or hooting/hollering from Tater.]

For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve been trying to decide whether I should introduce myself by my first name, which will inevitably get me mocked by my friends until the end of time, or by my nickname, which will definitely scandalize anyone who has not spent a significant amount of time around twenty-year-old guys who play hockey. However, as I look around the room, I’m realizing that most of you probably either raised, spent significant time around, or were once a twenty-year-old guy who played hockey. To the rest of you, I am profoundly sorry.

So, hi! I’m Shitty, and I’m Jack’s best man.

read more below or on ao3

Being someone’s best man, as I’ve realized over the last few months, should really come with a playbook or an instruction manual or something, because it’s a task unlike any other you’ll ever take on. In addition to being a friend, you have to be a confidant, an expert at bachelor-party debauchery (I think my college resume definitely prepared me for this part) and someone who’s not afraid to step in to make last-minute decisions so the grooms don’t have to. You also have to do all of these things without getting fired from your job or stepping on anyone’s toes, up to and including: the couple getting married, the other people in the wedding party, the grooms’ parents, the wedding planner, and most importantly, Moomaw, whose word is law around here. 

(Seriously. She made the pie tonight, people. Bow down to her.)

But as much as the role can feel a little bit like you’re being thrown in at the deep end, it also definitely comes with its perks. Tonight, I have both the honor and the challenge of somehow summarizing how much I love Jack and Eric in a speech that is heartfelt and witty yet also brief so that we can get to the aforementioned pie as quickly as possible. If you’re still following me here, that is a tall order—but here goes nothing!

I met Jack Zimmermann on our first day of freshman year at Samwell, during the bright, hot summer of 2011. I was participating in the time-honored tradition of moving into a dorm on the third floor of a building with no elevator and no air conditioning in the middle of August. It builds character, or so the good folks in Samwell administration probably tell themselves. Anyway, athletes got to move in early for preseason, so I was expecting to be one of the only guys on the floor for at least a couple days. I was just carrying the last box into my room when the door next to mine opened and—well, you can probably guess who walked out.

Now, I grew up in Boston, which means I also grew up around hockey culture. I’d heard the news that Jack was coming to Samwell, so I knew who he was when he stepped into the hall in that same vague way that you kind of-sort of recognize celebrities hustling down the street or through the airport with their sunglasses on. And he gave me that same vibe—“I know you know who I am, and I’d very much like not to be bothered about it.”

Here is something that will not shock you if you know us: Jack was the first friend I made in college. Here is something that might shock you if you know us: That definitely doesn’t mean we were friends at first. By his own admission, Jack wasn’t at Samwell to make friends at all. He told me, much later, that he was only planning to go to play hockey, get his life back on track, and keep his head down as much as possible.

So in retrospect, maybe it was an unlucky thing for Jack that he ran into the one person who wasn’t going to let him do that.

Because no matter who you are or where you’re from, freshman year of college breeds a unique kind of terror I’ve never felt anywhere else. There’s a lot of pressure to completely remake yourself, to become the person you maybe never could have been in your hometown. By coming to Samwell, I wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one that Andover had raised. Jack wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one he’d spent twenty years telling himself he had to be. As much as neither of us wanted to admit it, we both wanted similar things out of our college experience, and we needed a support system to do that. And so, however begrudging the two of us were about it at first, we started to bond more and more.

It wasn’t always easy. For one thing, my idea of a good time was a lot louder than Jack’s—who enjoyed such scintillating pursuits as “watching golf” and “going to bed at a reasonable hour”, neither of which were quite in my vocabulary at the ripe old age of eighteen. Also, if it’s before six in the morning, he has a hard time remembering to speak English, which used to make for a lot of stilted conversations between the two of us as we walked to early morning practice. (On a completely unrelated note, the first and probably only thing I ever learned in Québécois is how to swear.)

I don’t remember the exact tipping point at which Jack and I really became friends; I think it was more of a quiet acknowledgment that we liked having each other around, that we balanced each other out in ways that neither of us initially knew we needed. What I do know is that, slowly but surely, I started to get glimpses of the Jack that exists off the ice. And so began one of the most extraordinary journeys of my life, because the only thing crazier than knowing Jack Zimmermann is actually knowing Jack.

Here are some things that I’ve learned in the process: He’s on his third pair of neon yellow running shoes, which he buys specifically because the color makes him happy. Before either of us tried Eric’s pies, the only thing that could make him cheat on a meal plan was a sleeve of Double Stuf Oreos. (Don’t ask him how to eat them correctly unless you’re interested in a twenty-minute speech on exactly how they have to be pulled apart.) And he loves Captain America, although it is the opinion of this best man that America’s ass has nothing on his hockey butt. Have you seen that thing? It has Internet fans in at least two different countries. 

But I digress.

In our sophomore year we lived next to each other again, by choice instead of by chance, in what I can only describe as the pinnacle of American college living: the Samwell Men’s Hockey Haus. We used to pull the comforter off of one of our beds and climb out onto the roof and clear off the snow so we could share the blanket, look up at the stars, and listen to the bass thumping through the wall of the house next door. On nights when other things felt confusing, this one part of my life was clear. There’s something about sitting out under the open sky that just makes it easier to talk to a guy, you know? 

Some nights the conversations we had were funny. Some nights they were serious. Some nights we said nothing at all, just sat secure in the knowledge that someone cared enough to exist alongside us for a little while. There was always an unspoken agreement between us on nights like these: I got your back. For me, Jack’s friendship became a rock, a refuge. It’s something that I came to depend on that year and still do to this day.

As for the content of those late-night conversations—well, some things do have to stay between friends. I’m sure Jack will agree, especially because he has so graciously allowed me to get up here and lovingly roast him just a little bit.

So let’s skip ahead again, to yet another August, the start of our junior year, and the arrival on the scene of one Eric Bittle. This kid burst into our ranks like a ray of Southern sunshine and turned pretty much everything upside down in the process. In the first five minutes of being in the Haus, he somehow made us a pie? Folks, I'm not kidding, it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. We were a bunch of guys who didn’t know what we were missing until we had it, and let me tell you, it was one hell of a semester after that. In pretty short order we had curtains on the windows and baked goods on the counters, and Samwell Men’s Hockey started to become not only a team but a family.

That was off the ice, at least. On it, things were a little more complicated. As our dear friend and former goalie John Johnson said to me, Jack and Eric hadn’t gone through their character development yet—whatever that means. 

Take our third or fourth practice with the full team that year, for example. It had gone… uh. Poorly, would be a word. Later that night I heard some rustling on the roof outside, and God knows I was willing to do just about anything but my homework—so I stuck my head out the window and there was Jack, watching the stars. I asked him if he wanted a buddy, and he said alright, so I slid out and sat down next to him.

That was pretty usual for us at this point. What wasn’t usual was the topic of conversation. The first thing Jack said to me was, “Bittle’s gonna get eaten alive when our schedule starts.” (Remember, people, they’re married now!) The second was, “I want to help.”

Here’s another thing about Jack: Underneath the veneer is a guy who just cares so intensely it’d shock you if you knew nothing else about him. It shocked me a little that day. I think it even shocked him to admit it, to the point where I had to say, “Jack, it’s not a criminal offense to care about other people. Even if it feels like you’re doing it for yourself.”

So he helped. He offered an olive branch, and Bits took him up on it. I’d hear the two of them get up in the morning, hours before the rest of us had to be at Faber, for checking practice. None of the rest of us ever knew exactly what went down, but one thing was for sure—Eric put in a ton of work to overcome some of the fears that had followed him to college. He got better, and Jack relaxed. The two of them really started working as a team, and things started looking up from there.

The day that they told us they were dating was pretty amazing. Eric is so full of light no matter how bleak a situation may look, but that day he was literally almost glowing. And I’ve seen Jack in moments after victory and loss, at his best and at his worst. But I’ve never seen a Jack who was so happy, possessed of such confidence in a decision he’d made, as I saw him that day at brunch. And that’s when I knew this relationship was really special. 

From there, many of you know the story. You watched it play out on ESPN and social media and the front pages of every single gossip magazine on the supermarket shelves. But if you’re sitting here with us tonight, you also watched it play out between Jack and Eric themselves. You’ve watched them handle expectations as a united front. You’ve watched their unfailing dedication to each other while they navigate the pressure of being some pretty big firsts. You know that, behind the scenes, these are two incredibly genuine people who  bring out the best in each other and are dedicated to doing that every single day.

In the last four years, I’ve watched Eric become self-possessed and confident because he was given the space to do so. In the last six years, I’ve watched Jack grow from a kid with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove to a guy who finally believes that he deserves all the good things the world has given him and then some. If you take nothing else away from this speech, I want you to know this: I’m incredibly proud to call myself a friend to both of them.

Jack, Bits, you’re always gonna be my brothers, my best friends, and two of the finest damn men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I wish you both a long and happy marriage. Take care of each other, be good to each other, and never forget where you started—as a team.

So please join me in raising your glasses, everyone, and as they say at Samwell—penitus potes to Jack and Eric!

[macknnons]

NHL survey : how does one come to support some idiots in particular (RESULTS)

First of all, I want to thank every person who took the time to answer the survey and everyone who reblogged the original post. I was hoping for maybe like, a couple of dozens of answers, and this kind of blew up, which I’m really happy about because the more data, the better. This survey collected a total of 675 answers.

To place things in context, I only shared this survey on Tumblr (it might have been shared elsewhere by other people but I’m going to assume the public here is mostly has a foot in this side of the hockey fandom — not invalidating what have been done, I do believe that the results could be different had I reached a wider/difference audience and it has to be kept in mind, I discuss it a little more in the conclusion). I wanted to know more about why people got into NHL hockey and eventually make connections between some parameters and the main team people follow today.

As I stated in my original post, I am no statistician, just a girl who enjoys numbers and hockey. Reading the answers I got, I wish I would have done some things differently (especially for the offered answers and the fact that I didn’t mention women’s hockey while it completely could have been part of the scope of this survey, I’m very sorry about that) but it is what it is. Who knows, I might do the exercise again another time, include other subjects still hockey-related. Is this a little flawed? Yes. Are there still cool things to get from it? Yes, I believe so.

I’m obviously very neutral in the presentation of the results but this is nowhere professional and you will find here and there some comments from me. I promise it’s not too bad. Also English is not my first language but I tried my best.

If you have any questions about any of this, don’t hesitate to reach out! I’ll be happy to discuss this with you.

Hereafter is the summary:

The best way to read the results is via: Google Doc or WordPress article.

(in my opinion, the google doc has the best formatting/navigation opportunities)

I wanted to put the whole conclusion under a cut but tumblr is being mean (and probably not liking long texts) so here have just my main conclusions:

the year people start getting into hockey influences the first team people start to follow,

the success of a team more often than not will lead more people to choose that team to follow first,

success isn’t everything and things that can get people to get interested in a team, in particular, can be: players, social media content created by teams and content created by fans (ex: fiction, gifs…),

only two-thirds of people have the same first and main team, having access to all that has happened in time leads to people changing favorites and a shift/slide of fans between teams over time,

people outside of North America have gotten interested in NHL hockey more and more lately (but still at an average older age than Canadians and Americans),

people mostly get into NHL hockey thanks to their friends and family but social media, rpf, and literature also play a huge role (especially for people outside of North America),

reasons why people chose to support their current favorite team are diverse: hometown/family team, a specific player, rpf, social media content, them doing well, podcasts, etc..,

the availability of content (especially content other than the actual games) has an impact on the growth of a fanbase,

people living outside of North America are much more likely to follow another hockey league,

the leagues and the favorite national teams (outside of the NHL, Canada, USA) are mostly connected to countries where: hockey is one of the most popular sports, national teams do well in international competitions, NHL players come from.

For any further explication and the actual numbers collaborating those facts, check the full results.

[hslllot]

Part I. Draft Day

fic masterlist | rated: m, mature | word count: 4.6k content/warning: hockey harry, nosey family members, a very brief mention of anxiety, overzealous hockey stans. 

DRAFT REPORT: The 411 on Harry Styles by John Michaelson for Sportsnet

There’s this kid named Harry Styles. He plays hockey. Ever heard of him? 

At this point there’s not much else to be said about the british Fighting Hawks’ centre, a lock to be the No.1 pick in the 2015 NHL Draft. 

Dubbed a generational talent, Styles’ abilities are at a level typically only seen in video games. We all know the Edmonton Oilers will select him with the first overall pick on June 26. In years to come, hockey fans from around the globe (but especially Oilers fans) will be on the edge of their seats, watching to see if the phenom can develop into a future Hockey Hall of Fame talent the way Wayne Gretzky and Mario Lemieux did. 

Here’s what you need to know about Harry Styles: 

Age on June 26: 19 Birthplace: Redditch, Worcestershire, England Current team: University of North Dakota Fighting Hawks  Position: Centre Shoots: Left Height: 6-foot Weight: 190 lbs NHL Central Scouting Rank (North American): 1st

Harry Styles is a franchise-changing player in every sense of the word. He looked like a pro player even before he flew across the pond at a young age to play in the Canadian Hockey League. This has been a long time coming but the future is finally here.

He is talented beyond his years and always has been… Styles has played against older competition his entire career. Growing up in the small village of Holmes Chapel in Cheshire, England, the options for minor hockey teams were limited. Styles struggled to find a team in his age group that matched his talent level and was forced to play with older kids - and even then his talent was unmatched. Like the two other players from the UK currently playing in the NHL, Styles eventually had to leave home and play junior hockey in Canada, where he still had to play up a year against Canadian kids that grew up in a country that eats, sleeps, and breathes the game. 

He should have been drafted 1st overall last year… Styles shocked the hockey world in 2013 when, instead of declaring for the 2014 NHL Draft, he announced he would be attending the University of North Dakota and lead the Fighting Hawks to an NCAA Championship. Styles, ever the media-trained athlete, dodged questions about why he chose to go to university for a year before joining the NHL, simply stating “University was always a part of the plan, no matter what happened with hockey.” The hockey community let out a collective sigh of relief when his agent, Jeffrey Azoff (whose father was, coincidentally, Wayne Gretzky’s agent), announced shortly after his championship win that after one year at UND, Styles would be declaring for the 2015 Draft. 

His trophy case is full... Harry Styles has won pretty much every individual hockey award he could possibly win in his career so far. During his CHL career with the Vancouver Giants he won Rookie of the Year, multiple MVP awards, the award for most goals, assists, and overall points, and scholastic player of the year. During his short-lived NCAA career with UND, he won Rookie of the Year, the Hobey Baker Award as the top men’s hockey player, and was named to the Academic All-American team. Unfortunately, Great Britain’s ice hockey team will not be qualifying for the Olympics or the World Championships any time soon, so unless Styles applies for Canadian citizenship, international trophies and medals will be difficult to come by. Regardless, I have a feeling that there will be many Stanley Cups in his future. 

He really hates underperforming… The kid puts a lot of pressure on himself. As we have seen with many successful athletes, an insatiable inner drive to compete can lead to greatness. Styles has that drive to be great and can be his own worst critic. “When I was growing up, my mum was worried about me because I was a bit of a perfectionist.” Styles told The Hockey News back in December. “When I had a bad game, I would get so upset about it. It’s just how I am and how I think every athlete should be. Good is never enough. It’s important to always keep learning and growing to better yourself.”

He is excited to play for the Oilers… Not that he would have anything bad to say about any of the 30 NHL teams, but the Oilers do hold a special place in Styles’ heart. “It’s a great hockey town with fans that are super passionate about the game.” He told The Hockey News. “They’ve been on a bit of a slide the last couple years but the team has a great history. Not many people watch the NHL where I’m from, but my dad was always interested in it and that’s how I got into the game. He was an Oilers fan during their dynasty years with Gretzky and Messier… So if they do end up drafting me first overall, I’ll feel honored to be a part of the team, and it’ll be a nice tribute to my dad.” 

Be sure to catch our live 2015 NHL Draft coverage on June 26 starting at 5pm EST/2pm PT only on Sportsnet.

“With the first overall pick in the 2015 NHL Entry Draft the Edmonton Oilers are proud to select, from Holmes Chapel in England, Harry Styles.”

The room erupted in loud cheers and applause as the Edmonton Oilers drafted the National Hockey League’s newest and most sought after commodity. 

Y/N’s closest friends and extended family roamed around her parents’ living room, congratulating one another with hugs and handshakes like one of their own family members was just drafted. That wasn’t the case though, they were all just deeply invested in the hockey team and the boy from England that was meant to turn things around after so many years of losing. They were so invested, in fact, that the family organized a gathering similar to something you might see on a holiday, like Thanksgiving or Christmas.

While it was not a normal holiday, for Y/N’s family it was just as significant. It was Draft Day. And every hockey fan in North America wanted Harry Styles to play for their team.

“That’s quite the suit, isn’t it?” Her uncle Will pointed to the television where the young man is dressed in an ornate red floral suit and black dress shirt. The suit was flashier than what most hockey players would wear, but it’s clear that Harry Styles is not like most hockey players. The camera panned to him as he stood up from his seat and hugged the two brunette women sitting next to him. He stuck out like a sore thumb among a sea of other young hockey players all dressed in variations of black and grey as they patiently waited to be drafted from the stands of the BB&T Centre in Florida. It was clear to Y/N that, much like his hockey skills, Harry Styles’ fashion sense was superior compared to his peers.

There was an air of excitement in the room as the draft party, all clad in blue and orange jerseys, watched the generational talent walk down the stairs of the arena and make his way to the stage. They collectively held their breath, the room becoming silent, when he arrived at the stage where both the owner and general manager of the team were waiting to greet him. Harry shook their hands before they handed him his own blue and orange jersey. As he slipped the jersey over his head and posed for a photograph with the executives, the silence in the room broke and excited conversations and speculations for the upcoming season continued. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a stir in her belly and a sense of anticipation for what the upcoming hockey season would bring. 

Her thoughts lingered on the man on the screen, wondering what it might be like to meet him, when her brother pulled her out of her reverie. “Can you believe you’ll be working with the Harry Styles?” 

No - she couldn’t quite believe it. 

In fact, everything happening in her life right now seemed a bit too good to be true.

Set to start her third year of university in September and having to complete mandatory practicum hours in order to graduate the following year, she somehow managed to secure a placement with her favourite hockey team. The Oilers were only taking three students from the university program and everyone in the program wanted one of those spots. 

The application process was incredibly stressful for Y/N. One telephone interview, one in-person interview, and a practical session where she had to demonstrate her athletic therapy skills to the team’s head trainer. She did well with the phone interview, given that they weren’t able to see her. She was able to look down at the talking points she wrote in her notebook and pause to take a couple deep breaths without making it obvious that she was reeling on the inside. Her anxiety got the best of her during the in-person interview though, freezing up when they asked simple questions like “why do you want to work for the team?” and “what experience do you have working with sport teams?”

She left the interview feeling embarrassed, but instead of taking the time to wallow and feel sorry for herself, she went home and spent hours upon hours taping her brothers’ ankles in preparation for the practical session the following day. There was no way she was going to let the opportunity fall through the cracks. Her dream of working for the Oilers was the whole reason she decided to go to school for athletic therapy in the first place. She was never any good at playing hockey but she knew in her heart that, someday, she would work for the team she loved so much. At the end of it all, she reckons her taping skills saved her, so she took her brother out to his favourite restaurant to thank him for letting her use his ankles for practice.

Fast forward a few months and she’s now stood in her parents living room thinking about how in three months she could be taping Harry Styles’ ankles.  

At the time of her application, no one knew the Oilers would be picking first in the draft. The aura around the team was a bit negative at the time (because of all the losing) and there were rumours circulating the city that some of the star players were rude to the support staff and liked to party a little too hard at The Ranch (which contributed to said losing). 

When she first decided to apply for the position her father warned her, “there’s a saying that you should never meet your heroes. What if they’re all a bunch of assholes and you end up hating the team you’ve loved your whole life?” 

Y/N ignored her father’s warning but silently hoped that others would feel that way, narrowing down the applicant pool. However, the rumours circulating the team had no effect on the amount of students applying for the job. The fans were loyal in Edmonton (a city not known by many around the world unless you follow hockey or are compelled to visit North America’s largest shopping mall) and although the team was losing, every kid studying athletic therapy wanted a shot with their favourite team. Y/N knew of at least fifteen students that she beat out for the position. 

Now, it’s late June and there is a general hype surrounding the team, as if Harry was about to come in and shine a light on the Decade of Darkness (a term Oilers fans use to characterize the recent years in which their favourite team hadn’t made the playoffs). That’s a lot of pressure to put on one person, but Y/N supposed that he’s been dealing with this kind of pressure since he was sixteen, maybe even younger. 

Everyone at her family’s draft party was, yet again, watching the television intently while Harry gave his first interview as an official member of the Edmonton Oilers hockey team. While Y/N normally loved watching these types of interviews, she was a bit zoned out- mesmerized by the look of him. The suit, the wavy chestnut hair, the dimple in his left cheek, the accent. The accent. She had never really been that attracted to hockey players, which many people found hard to believe given that she’s such a fan of the sport. All of the guys from her high school who played minor hockey were rotten and thought they were better than everyone else. She did have favourite players in the NHL, players that she loved and admired, but they were her favourites because she loves how they play the game, not because she wants to fuck them. 

There was something different about Harry Styles though. Not necessarily that she wanted to fuck him (especially since she recently signed an employment contract that would forbid it), but she was certainly feeling intrigued by him. He doesn’t look like the boys she went to high school with. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s British, or that he opted for a suit that set him apart from the rest of them, or maybe it was the duality of the way he held himself with unshakeable confidence in his floral suit, his gaze set intensely on the person interviewing him, posture strong and dominant, while simultaneously speaking so softly, his words laced with kindness and gratitude.

“When do you start working with the team, Y/N?” Her uncle Will asked from across the room, prompting everyone to look in her direction waiting for her response. 

The news that Y/N would be working for the Oilers this season shook the family. As soon as her dad shared the news with his brother, she started receiving messages expressing congratulations from her many aunts, uncles, and cousins, shortly followed by messages asking if she would be getting free tickets to games. 

“Um, mid-September, for training camp.” 

“You get to meet Harry Styles?” her 9 year old cousin, Billy, asked. 

“I do. I will be one of the team’s trainers.” The young boy held a look of wonder on his face, as if realizing for the first time that that his oldest cousin was actually kind of cool. 

“Do you think he’s single?” Her aunt Maria asked with a smirk on her face, turning to the television to look at Harry Styles. Aunt Maria doesn’t care much for hockey but she never failed to mention which players she believed to be handsome. She was also the nosey type of aunt that liked to inquire about Y/N’s dating life. “Maybe you two will hit it off.”

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at her aunt, waving off her comment. But before she could retort, her father chimed in. “Ha! Yea, right! That’s not going to happen. She’s not allowed to date anyone on the team, it’s the rules. Plus, Y/N knows better than to get involved with any of these guys.” 

Her father was right. It is the rules. Y/N thought back to when she went into the Oilers headquarters back in April to sign her employment contract. She asked a lot of questions, making sure she understood everything about the document she was signing. 

“Personal relationships? Even friendships are forbidden?” she asked the head trainer, TJ, for clarification. 

“It depends. You can be friendly, sure, but I would avoid spending time with the players outside of training and game times. Could be seen as unprofessional.”  

Y/N understood why such rules were in place, and she had no issue with it at the time. A woman securing a position on a professional sports team was rare, let alone a woman securing a position with a professional men’s team. She knew when she chose this career path that it would always be an uphill battle and that she’d have to work harder and be more strategic than the men in her field. She wanted- no, needed to excel and prove that she could be a talented athletic therapist and a valuable member of the team, so she had no intention whatsoever of messing that up with any type of personal relationships. She also understood the power dynamic between the professional athletes and the support staff, the different ways in which power can be abused, and how personal relationships could complicate things. It all made sense to her. Plus, she was happy enough with just becoming friends with the other trainers and she probably wouldn’t have a lot of free time, anyways, balancing her practicum and her school work.

Today, however, she couldn’t help the very slight pull on her heartstrings at the thought of not getting to know Harry Styles on a more personal level. 

As if he’d even be interested in the first place.

In a hotel restaurant in Sunrise, Florida, a few hours after the draft, Harry Styles sat with his mother Anne, sister Gemma, and agent Jeff, celebrating his newly drafted status over a bottle of champagne. He knew he should be feeling elated, like it was the best day of his life, but all he felt was exhausted. The conversation at the table happened around him while he sat in his own head, unable to think about anything but what it might feel like to be tucked into his bed in his childhood bedroom in Holmes Chapel. 

The weeks leading up to the draft were an absolute circus filled with interviews and talking to the media nearly every day (he hates talking to the media), shooting promo for all of his endorsements (he’s thankful for the money they give him but he knows he is an excruciatingly terrible actor), and flying around North America to visit all of the potential cities where he might be drafted (it was a pointless tour because everyone knew where he was going to end up). 

He had only tonight to celebrate with his family before it was all set to start again. Him and Jeff will fly off to Edmonton tomorrow morning for a week to speak to the media there, meet the teammate he’ll be living with, and do a surprise skating session with some kids at a summer camp. Meanwhile, his mum and sister will fly back to England.

“Any idea where you’ll live then?” Anne asked her son, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the conversation. 

“Hm?” He hadn’t a clue what his mum just asked him but he’d hate to admit that rather than listening to anything the three of them had been talking about for the last hour he’d been thinking about how he’d rather be sleeping “Sorry, I think the champagne’s got to me a bit.” 

“The team’s got him living with one of his older teammates and his family.” Jeff stepped in, knowing Harry wasn’t fully paying attention. “They do this with the young guys to get them used to living on their own. Teach ‘em how to cook, do laundry, and keep ‘em in line. He won’t be partying every night and bringing girls back to his place if he lives with the guy’s wife and kids.” 

“Oh please,” Gemma chimed in. “Not like any of that would be an issue for Harry. He’s been away from home for years. And he’s hardly got time for partying and dating.” 

Harry shot Jeff a look warning him to keep his mouth shut. When Harry found out about the living arrangements the team had planned for him, he was less than pleased. After all, he’d just spent the last year living in a dorm room at the University of North Dakota where he had complete freedom. Gemma was right, he didn’t have much time for partying and dating. But he liked having his own space, and he really liked being able to invite someone over after a game, either to celebrate a win or relieve some stress after a loss. 

“You never know, some of these young guys get their first big pay cheque and a taste of the big leagues and it can go off the rails pretty fast.”

“I like to think I raised my baby to know better than to get caught up in a pay cheque.” Anne placed a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder and he quickly reciprocated, reaching up to place his hand over hers.  

Not liking where this conversation was going, Harry finally cut in. “You did. And Jeffrey, you know I’m not that kinda guy. Either way, none of this matters if I don’t make it past training camp. For all we know I could be going back to the juniors for the season.”

“Doesn’t matter who you are or what kinda guy you are, H, it’s just what the team does. It’s tradition. And c’mon, I know you like to keep your expectations in check, but the team’s made it pretty clear that you’re gonna be in the starting lineup come October.” 

Jeff was right. The team had all but promised that he would make it past training camp. The question wasn’t if he’d make it past training camp, but in what shape he’d be in and how long it would take for the team to start winning games.  

“The coach said I’m small and need to bulk up, especially since I’ll be playing against older, more experienced men.” Harry could feel the weight of his mum’s gaze as she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not quite where I need to be yet, but I’ll get there.”

Harry and his family were stood in the hotel lobby with Jeff, convening on plans for the morning when he felt a small tug on the hem of his red floral suit jacket. He spun himself around, ready to confront the individual bold enough to touch him without his consent, to find a young girl, no older than five years old staring up at him. 

Harry looked at her, a bit taken aback and undoubtedly with a bit of confusion written on his face, and then spotted, a few feet behind her, two individuals who were most likely her parents. Suddenly, he realized that he may have actually had a few too many glasses of champagne and immediately tried to compose himself, standing straighter and trying to will away the exhaustion in his eyes and the haziness in his mind. 

“Oh - um, hello there.” He cleared his throat before using the soft voice he reserves for adorable, small children like the one stood before him. 

“Are you Harry Styles?” She asked with wide eyes and a small, timid voice.

“I am, sweetheart. What can I do for you?” 

A bright smile etched itself onto her face. But instead of answering him, she looked back at the adults standing behind her, motioning for them to help as she was too shy to proceed on her own. The man, who Harry presumed was her father, moved to stand beside her. 

“This is Millie. She wanted to say hi to you because she’s a big fan of yours.” 

Harry lowered himself in front of the young girl so that he was crouched down and eye-level with her. “Hi Millie, it’s a real pleasure to meet you.” He reached out to shake the young girl’s small hand. “Have you got anything that I could sign? Or I suppose we could take a photo if you’d like?” 

The young girl removed her hand from Harry’s, nodding her head eagerly. She began to unzip her jacket, revealing a bright orange Edmonton Oilers jersey underneath. 

“Oh? Look at that! You’re an Oilers fan. In Florida?” Harry lifted himself from his crouched position and directed his question toward at the girl’s father.

“Yes, well, we actually travelled here from Edmonton, to watch the draft in person.” Harry raised his eyebrows in shock. He knew that the flight from Edmonton to Florida is long, and likely expensive. The tickets to attend the draft live probably weren’t cheap either. “It’s not every day your favourite team picks first overall! Let alone gets to pick a player like you. We were so excited so we decided to make a family trip out of it. Turn around, Millie, show him the back!” Millie’s father handed Harry a sharpie as Millie turned her back to Harry. 

It was at that moment that Harry started to understand the weight of the moment. The name ‘STYLES’ was embroidered on the back of Millie’s Oilers jersey, above the number ‘15’ indicating his draft year. He was speechless. This was, after all, the first time he was seeing his name in the classic Oilers’ orange and blue colours adorned on a fan’s back. 

The feeling was different from earlier at the draft when they presented him with his own jersey. This one belonged to someone else. Someone bought his jersey before he’d even ever played a single minute for the team. They flew across the continent, from Edmonton to Florida, just to watch him get drafted. It was a lot for his hazy, champagne-diluted mind to take in.

Realizing he’d just been standing there staring at the jersey, he cleared his throat once again in hopes that he could hide the unknown thoughts and emotions he was trying to reconcile. “Wow, um, I didn’t realize you could get these already.”

Millie’s father laughed, “Man, they’ve been selling these in Edmonton since they announced we’d be picking first in the draft.” Again, the feeling was overwhelming for Harry. 

We’d be picking first in the draft.

To this family, and probably others in Edmonton, the Oilers were “we”. They win together, they lose together. If the Oilers pick first in the draft, they all pick first. It was their team. And now he, Harry, was a part of that “we”.

Harry reached down to sign the jersey on Millie’s back, quickly scribbling his autograph on the left side. As he straightened himself, he felt Anne move to stand beside him, apparently having sensed her son’s unease and unconscious need for his mother to join him in this moment.

“Hi, I’m Harry’s mum, Anne. Would you like me to take a picture of the four of you?” Millie’s father eagerly handed his phone to Anne and waved his wife over to be in the photo. Several photos of Harry and the family were taken, followed by a few of just Harry and Millie. 

“Would you mind if I took one of Harry and Millie on my phone as well?” Anne asked as she snapped the last photo. “This is the first time Harry’s met a fan wearing his name on an Oilers jersey. We’d like to remember it.” 

The family was more than happy to oblige so Anne took a few more photos on her phone, including one where Millie’s back was to the camera and the ‘STYLES’ name in full view. 

It was so like his mum to understand how special the moment was and to come in and save him. He couldn’t quite articulate what he was feeling in that moment, as understanding emotions and sentimentality were not his greatest strengths, and he most definitely never would have asked to take a photo to keep for himself had she not done it. 

The obvious feelings were joy and gratitude. Every day he was thankful to play the game he loved, to be successful, and to have fans that loved and supported him. It didn’t always make sense that complete strangers paid him so much attention just for playing a game, but he accepted it and always tried to show those strangers kindness in return. However, there was another feeling lingering, one that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Looking at his mum, he knew that she knew what it was. She always knew. And certainly she would make him talk about it later.

As they separated from the family and walked toward the hotel elevators, where Gemma and Jeff were waiting, Anne grabbed onto her son’s arm, holding him close as they walked side by side. 

“Do you see that they love you already, my darling?” She asked. Harry raised an eyebrow at his mum, unsure of what she was going on about. “I know you. I know that you care what people think and that you are scared to disappoint them. You just need to step out on the ice and be yourself. Just be Harry. They already love you and this is only just the beginning.”

WOW! OK. I know it’s a bit of a slow start, but I wanted this chapter to be more of an introduction to harry and the mc and to the fan culture that harry is about to experience!! I’ve already started on the next part so that should be up before Christmas! If you’ve made it this far, all I can say is that I love you and appreciate you. If you liked it, please let me know. I debated not posting this so many times (and I might even regret it later) so feedback will certainly ease my troubled mind!! I ALWAYS LOVE YOU, BUT ESPECIALLY TODAY!! xx Shan. 

Harry’s Draft Day Look

talk to me about generational | fic masterlist

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Shotgun - m. tkachuk

And here is 8.7k of a road trip with Matthew Tkachuk, which honestly, is the real dream. Let me know what you think of it, reblog (I love looking at tags!!) and pop into my inbox if you’d like!

Wine pairing from someone with zero authority on the subject: a nice brut rosé - crisp, fruity, bubbly. Plus, I like the vibes. 

It all started with a text. What are the chances you can get the week after next off? Matthew had sent. Madison’s brow furrowed. Doubtful, but I can try. Are you going to tell me what this is about? There was a week left in the season before playoffs started, and with the points spread in the Pacific being what it was, the matchups were all but locked in. It took less than a minute to get a response. No :) I’ll let you know once you get an answer. She got approved for the time off two days later. Her phone rang as soon as she texted him the news. “How do you feel about road trips?”

---

Maddy had met Matthew about a little over a year prior, soon after she moved to Calgary from her hometown of Toronto. Having finished her first week of work as a computer programmer, there was nothing Madison wanted more than to let loose and enjoy a few drinks with her friends. She was sharing a two-bedroom with her best friend Emily, who Maddy would swear up and down was the sunniest, warmest, most kind person she’d ever met. Not like Maddy wasn’t a nice person — she was — but where her idea of relaxing meant going out bouldering, or camping, or a last-minute road trip, Emily was more of a homebody. 

But going out meant going out, and so Emily was happily dragged along to a bar downtown; which one, she couldn’t really say. Madison walked up to the bar as soon as they entered, catching the bartender’s eye and ordering a Tom Collins. She tapped her fingers on the counter as she waited, glancing around the room. It was ten o’clock on a Friday night, so it was plenty packed. “What are you getting?” Madison asked Emily curiously. 

She held up her Molson. “I’m a woman of simple tastes. Plus, I didn’t feel like waiting around for the bartender to actually make me a drink,” Emily added dryly. 

Maddy rolled her eyes. “What’s the point of going out to a bar when you’re just going to be drinking something you could get at the liquor store?” Emily stuck her tongue out. The bartender slid Maddy’s glass over, taking her card and swiping it through quickly. “Thank you!” she chirped, whipping around to head over and snag a free table she had seen a few minutes before. 

She never ended up getting to the table. Instead, she ran straight into 6 feet, 2 inches of pure Midwestern beef. “Woah!” Matthew said, steadying her as she watched her glass fall to the floor, thankfully not breaking but absolutely spilling its entire contents over the wood. “You good?” 

Madison nodded, grabbing a rag from the bartender. Matthew followed suit, joining her on the floor. “Got a little on my shoes, but it’ll be fine. They won’t stain.”

Matthew nodded, giving a final wipe before taking her rag and handing both back over the counter. “Did me spilling your drink all over you ruin my chances of getting your name?”

“Madison St. Pierre,” she said, laughing and sticking out a hand for him to shake. 

“Matthew Tkachuk, but—”

Maddy cut him off. “I probably already know that?” Matthew ducked his head sheepishly. “I may be a long-suffering Leafs fan, but I don’t live under a rock.”

He took a sip of his beer, leaning up against the bar. “Not from around here, eh?”

Maddy shook her head. “Just moved a couple weeks ago. I’m from Toronto, moved here for a job. I do computer programming,” she said by way of explanation. 

“A smart girl.”

She tilted her head. “You could say that.”

“Well,” he said, “I feel bad about spilling your drink on you, let me buy you another.” 

Maddy laughed. “If you insist. It’s really the least you could do.”

Matthew nodded at the bartender, ordering her another Tom Collins and putting it on his tab. “You and your friend are more than welcome to join us,” he gestured behind him to where the rest of his group was sitting, “we were playing a drinking game and could use a few more players anyway.”

And that was how Matthew met Maddy. 

---

Day 1 

Ten days later, Madison was hefting her duffel bag into the trunk of her Nissan. It was 7:00 on a Tuesday. Normally on a day off she’d be taking advantage of every possible minute of sleep she could get, but lines to cross the border could be long and they wanted to get to Montana by lunch. She waved goodbye to Emily, hopping in the driver’s seat and starting the engine. Matthew had initially suggested they just get a rental car, since it would save Maddy the 20-hour drive back. But a quick Google search let them know that the chances of finding a company willing to let them drop off a Canadian car in Nevada were slim to none. Plus, Maddy had always liked driving, so it wasn’t really an issue for her. They weren’t going to be alone on the trip; Matthew had invited Elias and Rasmus along. She felt a little bit like a school bus driver, stopping at Elias’s complex to pick him up, then Rasmus’ condo, finally pulling into the underground lot of Matthew’s apartment building. Holding one hand up in greeting, he wheeled his suitcases over to her car.

Maddy unblocked her seatbelt, hopping out to help him. “Why on earth did you need so many bags?” she huffed, turning one on its side and wedging it in between hers and Elias’s. 

He shrugged. “I’ve got a bag for the trip, a bag of actual clothes and workout stuff for the series, and the suit bag.” He hung the offending article on a hook. “Did you think I’d be able to set my vanity aside for a whole four days?”

“I should have known that would be too much to ask.”

Matty threw his head back, laughing. “Anyone ever told you how funny you are, Mads?”

“Once or twice, Ratthew,” she said, slamming the door shut. 

Maddy hopped back in the driver’s seat, jamming the key in the ignition and turning the engine on. “Next stop, boys, is America.”

---

Well technically, the next stop was a gas station off of Highway 2, about twenty minutes from the border. “Wait, wait,” Matthew said, a conspiratorial grin on his face as Madison took the pump out of the gas tank. 

She raised one eyebrow. “What?”

He made grabby hands at her keys. “Let me drive.”

“Why?” Madison asked. “I’ve been driving for like what, two hours? I’m not tired yet.”

“I’m the only American in the car.”

Maddy put the pump back. “And?”

Matthew looked sheepish. “Someone said that the border patrol officers will tell Americans ‘welcome home’ when they’re coming back. It’s never happened to me flying so I wanted to see if it would be different in a car.”

“If it means that much to you?” she said, tossing the keys over the hood of the car. Matthew caught them. Maddy rounded the back of the car before she could see him ducking his head, blushing. 

They arrived at the Piegan/Carway crossing shortly after. With exactly zero cars in front of them, Matthew pulled straight up to the booth. 

“Purpose of your visit?” the officer said, looking into the driver’s side. 

“Three of us play hockey, we’re road tripping down to Las Vegas before our playoff series starts in a few days,” Matty answered easily. 

He nodded. “And how long will you be in the States for?”

It was clear either this man had never watched a series of professional sports in his life, or he was just following a standard script. “Depends?” Matthew said, fully aware of how questionable that sounded. 

Maddy piped up from the passenger seat. “I’m driving the car back, so I’ll be back in eight days.”

“Right,” Matthew nodded, “But this trip to the US, we’ll be back in seven days. We’re flying back on the team plane, so it’s not a land crossing.” He decided to forego mentioning that, barring a sweep, they’d be back again in two weeks.

The poor officer looked bewildered. “Team plane?”

Matty shrugged his shoulders. “We play for the Calgary Flames, the team charters a plane to fly us from Calgary to wherever we’re playing and back. We decided to take the scenic route this time.” 

“Okay,” he said, but Madison still wasn’t convinced he actually understood what Matty was saying. If the border officer thought anything of the American, Canadian, and Swedish passports he was handed, he didn’t say anything. Giving a cursory glance, he handed them back. “Welcome back,” he nodded to Matthew, waving the car through the gate. Matthew pumped his fist.

---

An hour later, Matthew pulled into a dirt parking lot on the edge of Glacier National Park. “WE MADE IT!” he exclaimed, putting the car in park and throwing his hands up. 

“We drove three hours,” Elias said from the back seat. 

“And?” Matty challenged, opening the door. 

Maddy grabbed her backpack, stuffed with sandwiches and snacks that they had gotten on their way in. “If you guys brought hiking boots or good tennis shoes, now’s the time,” she said, lacing up her own boots. “There’s a loop around here that’s a little under four miles long, doesn’t sound like it’s too difficult but there is some elevation climb, so better safe than sorry.” People typically didn’t peg her for it, but Maddy was a very outdoorsy person at heart. She had taken up rock climbing in high school, and was a regular at the bouldering gyms back in Toronto until she moved. She’d found a climbing gym she liked well enough in Calgary, but with Banff just over an hour away from the city, the park had become her go-to for climbing and hiking. Matty had come with her on more than one occasion, and had surprised her with a long weekend camping for her birthday in March. The snow hadn’t all melted yet, and waking up to the powder-dusted fir trees outside of their tent had been one of the most beautiful sights of her life. 

“Everyone’s got a full water bottle?” she asked, tying up her hair. The last thing anyone wanted was to get heatstroke in one of the most remote parts of the park with only one phone that could even connect to an American cell tower. 

The group started off at a leisurely pace, wandering off-trail to check out anything and everything that caught their interest. The edge of the St. Mary Valley served as the perfect backdrop for lunch, Maddy pulling the sandwiches out from her bag and doling them out. “Oh thank God, I’m starving,” Elias said, grabbing his food from Maddy practically before she even had it in her hand. 

“Did you not have breakfast?” she asked incredulously. 

He nodded. “I did, but I’m still hungry. Should have brought snacks.” Off to his side, Matty snickered. 

 Day 2

Elias had volunteered to take over from Matthew to drive through the night, switching off sometime around sunrise with Rasmus. “I 100% have a crick in my neck,” Maddy grimaced, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and checking her phone. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Matthew smiled. Maddy groaned, leaning into his side. Almost instinctively, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle, taking a few gulps before setting it back down on the floor of the car, where it promptly rolled away. 

“Who do I have to blow to get a decent cup of coffee around here?” Maddy groaned. Matthew almost choked on his water. He had to get his mind off of the idea of Maddy blowing anything or he was about to have an issue. He pulled out his phone, jumping on Google maps. 

“There’s a little coffee shop a few miles ahead, off of the Spruce Drive exit?” he asked tentatively. 

She yawned. “As long as they sell caffeine, I’m game.” They did indeed sell caffeine, and after inhaling two cappuchinos and a small mountain of pastries later, Maddy hopped back behind the wheel. “You sure bear claws and muffins are on the meal plan, boys?” she asked, a smile playing on the corner of her lips. 

Rasmus waved her off. “It’s not like you’re going to rat us out, are you?” 

She shrugged, wiggling her phone in her hand as she pulled up at a stoplight. “Bold of you to assume I don’t have Coach’s number in my phone.”

Matty plucked her phone from her hand, placing it back by the center console. “Be that as it may, sweet Madison, you neglect to remember that I’m the only one with coverage in the U.S.” He might not strike most people as a particularly sentimental person, but Matthew loved his family, and decided that the extra charge was well worth being able to call his parents and sister whenever he was missing them. 

She stuck her tongue out at Matthew. “You ruin all of my fun, you know that?” All he did was grin. The drive to Mesa Falls wasn’t long at all, they had just finished their food — Matty popping bites of muffin into Madison’s mouth as she drove — when she pulled over to the curb by the sign. Maddy threw the boys’ backpacks to them, pointing to the single bathroom stall in the tiny rest area. “Go change, I’ll use the car.”

“Why can’t we have the car?” Matthew complained.

She looked at him. “Three full-grown men, all over six feet, in one car. I know you see each other’s dicks all day in the locker room, but I’d really rather not have that in my car. Think.”

Matty made an “o” with his mouth. “Gotcha.”

Swim trunks were much easier to get on than a wrap bikini, Madison was finding, and the boys were finished changing well before she was done figuring out her top. She bit her lip, poking her head out of the door. “Matty?” 

He turned around, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

“Could you help me tie this?” she asked, gesturing to the halter top. “I think it’s stuck or something.”

Matthew swallowed hard, his eyes widening as he tried to stutter through a sentence. “Uh, yeah. I can do that. For sure,” he said, shuffling over to the car. He gently untwisted the straps, gathering them into a bow at the base of her neck and trying very, very hard to not think about how soft her skin felt underneath his fingers. This was one of his best friends. And best friends weren’t supposed to think about that kind of stuff. Right?

Behind them, Elias and Rasmus shared a glance. They had expected something was going on between them, really ever since the party in November, but this was something new. They had never seen Matthew gone this far for a girl before. And they liked this side of him. 

“Thanks,” she said, squeezing his shoulder before disappearing back into the car to throw on a coverup. “How long is the walk to the actual waterfalls?”

“Not long,” Elias responded. “Ten minutes or so?” It was an easy walk to the falls, which were mercifully empty when they got there. They kicked off their sandals, leaving the bags under a nearby bush. Matthew knew Madison was pretty. She wasn’t a nun and he wasn’t a saint; she had seen him shirtless more times than he could count and he had seen her come out of his guest room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt of his after she stayed the night. His thoughts hadn’t exactly been innocent. But as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, leaving her clad only in that damn red bikini, he was convinced he’d never seen a more gorgeous sight. 

She turned around just as Matthew tore his eyes away, looking mischievously at him. “Last one in?” They sprinted to the water. Matty let her win. 

---

About half of their stops had been planned in advance; the others were pulled from websites or Google suggestions or whatever their waitress’ recommendation was for a local must-see. The Idaho Potato Museum fell into the latter category. Rasmus had floated the idea shortly after they had left Mesa Falls, and seeing as how nobody had anything better to suggest, they ran with it. 

“Free taters for out of staters,” Matthew said, reading off of the pamphlet they had been handed at the welcome desk. 

“Will they give me extra since I’m Canadian?” Madison wondered aloud. “For all intents and purposes they think you live in Missouri, Matty.” The nickname rolled off her tongue so easily, she didn’t even think twice. 

He passed the paper to her, the tips of their fingers barely brushing together, but Matthew could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. “Don’t get greedy, Mads.” They walked down a dimly-lit hallway lined with black-and-white photos. 

“Did you know that the first potatoes grown in the United States were planted in Londonderry, New Hampshire, by Scotch-Irish immigrants?” Elias read off of a placard, his voice sounding like a disinterested radio announcer. 

Maddy shook her head. “I didn’t, thank you so much for imparting on me this most important knowledge, Elias.”

“My pleasure,” he replied. 

“Did you know that you could survive off of a diet of only potatoes and butter?” Rasmus chimed in, reading another sign. 

“Really?” Matthew asked, leaning in to read. He turned to Madison a moment later. “Really, apparently.”

Half an hour of wandering later, Matthew and Madison had stumbled into the “artifacts” portion of the museum. “What kind of artifacts does a potato museum have?” Maddy asked, looking supremely confused. 

Matthew wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Why don’t we see?” For some reason, he decided it would be a good idea to hold his hand out for her. And for some reason, Maddy took it. 

The “artifacts” turned out to consist of some old farm tools, dusty burlap sacks, and the world’s largest potato chip. Elias and Ramsus were on the other side of the museum, leaving Matthew and Madison to drift through alone. “Crisp, actually,” Matthew said, reading the card under the glass case. “Because I guess they’re worried about people stealing it?”

“There’s a difference?”

He shrugged. “Apparently it’s only a chip if it’s a slice of potato. This was made from dehydrated potato flakes, or something like that.” Maddy wasn’t sure if it was the sepia-tinted lighting, or the lingering memory of how Matty’s fingertips burned like fire against her back as he tied her bikini, or if there was something particularly romantic about dehydrated potato flakes, but they were alone in the room and suddenly she was looking at him a little bit differently. Matthew looked at her, gaze soft as his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly down towards her lips. Her lips. His body leaned in, and just as she closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers, wondering if they were really going to do this in the middle of the Idaho fucking Potato Museum—

“We were wondering where you guys had gone off to!” Elias’s Swedish accent cut through the silence. Matthew threw his head back, silently cursing his teammate’s timing. If Elias and Rasmus realized anything was off, they didn’t say. “The lady at the front said it’s closing in ten minutes, so we thought we should head out and get something to eat.”

Maddy nodded in agreement, her cheeks burning. “Sounds good. I could go for some food.” They made their way back outside, Matthew settling behind the wheel as he steered the car back onto the highway. He tried to shake the almost-kiss from his mind, but the more he tried to forget it, the more the memory stuck. 

Elias looked down at his phone. “Yelp says there’s an Indian place coming up on the left if that sounds good to you guys,” he said, shaking Matthew from his thoughts. 

Maddy scrunched her nose. “All due respect, I don’t trust this town to make good Indian food. Potatoes, burgers, meat, sure. I buy it. But I haven’t seen a single person of color since we left Glacier.” 

“Fair.” 

The burgers were good; nothing to write home about, but Maddy was honestly thrilled to eat something that didn’t come out of a bag. The plan had originally been to drive through the night again to reach Salt Lake City by the early morning, but Maddy made it clear her back didn’t take too well to sleeping in the car, and the others agreed. “Rasmus, mind finding a hotel nearby? Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just somewhere not too far off of the freeway,” Madison asked. He nodded, pulling out his phone. They had gotten tired of passing around Matthew’s phone anytime they were out of Wifi range, so after a little complaining and one of Maddy’s puppy-dog eye looks, he finally relented and turned his hotspot on. 

“There’s a Holiday Inn up off of the next exit if that sounds good to you guys,” Rasmus said. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the Post Malone song that Matty had plugged in. They switched the aux every few hours. 

“Yeah, works for me.” Madison hummed her agreement; Matty nodded. Rasmus flicked on the blinkers, gently cruising down the offramp, pulling into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn about half a mile down the road. 

Madison bit the inside of her cheek. “They’re going to have rooms available, yeah?” 

“Mads, it’s May in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. I don’t exactly think they’ve got business lining up out the door.” Matty said, looking at her from the side as they walked into the hotel lobby. 

The whole trip was Matthew’s idea, so he insisted on footing the bill, handing his credit card and license over to the receptionist. Maddy snickered behind her hand. Matthew turned back to look at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly. “Something you’d like to share with the class, Madison?”

“Missouri licenses look weird,” she commented.

“And Alberta’s any better?”

She scrunched her nose. “We have a dinosaur on ours. Beat that.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” Matty said, the corner of his lip twitching as he thanked the receptionist, tucking the cards back into his wallet. She handed over the room keys, Matthew passing two to Rasmus and Elias and one to Maddy. “I had us together, if you don’t mind.” 

Madison shook her head. “Fine with me.” It wasn’t unusual for her to stay over at Matthew’s apartment, either after going out or when their movie nights ran a little long and she woke up to Matty tucking her into the bed in his guest room. She had a toothbrush in his bathroom, a change of clothes in the dresser. She had offered to take her stuff back a few months ago, not wanting any girl he might bring over to get the wrong idea. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he had said when she asked, waving her off. Though, come to think of it, he hadn’t brought any girl home — that she knew about — since sometime around the beginning of the year. 

They waved goodbye to Rasmus and Elias, promising to wake up bright and early to get the first crack at the breakfast buffet when it opened at 7. Matty swiped his card, holding the door open when the light turned green and the knob twisted. “After you, m’lady.” 

“Why thank you, good sir,” Maddy giggled, ducking under his arm into the entryway. She stopped at the end of the hall, eyes flickering into the room. 

Matthew stopped behind her. “What’s up?”

“There’s only one bed.”

His head jerked around the corner, not like he doubted her word or anything, but he needed to see it for himself. There was only one bed. One big bed, one very comfortable-looking bed, but one bed. Matty dropped his bag on the floor. “Uh...D’you want me to call down? I can see if they’ve got another room if that would make you more comfortable.”

Madison pursed her lips for a second before shaking her head. “No, it’s fine. We’re adults, we can share a bed without burning the house down.” It wasn’t like Maddy was lying for Matthew’s sake; she really was fine with it. Maybe a little too fine. But they had slept together — in the innocent sense of the word — before, and everything had turned out okay. His arm draped over her shoulder as she cuddled into his shoulder on a late night, her legs tangled in his when some of his friends from St. Louis were visiting for the weekend and took the guest room. He had offered to take the couch that night, but Maddy didn’t want to relegate him to a night of back cramps and drafty breezes, especially when he had an early practice the next day. Nobody ever made it weird, so it wasn’t weird. 

She took her bundle of clothes into the shower, relishing in the feeling of hot water raining down on her aching muscles. Maddy was loving the trip, genuinely, but being in a car for twelve hours out of the day took something out of a person. Slipping into an old college t-shirt, Madison thought for a moment about putting on a pair of sweats. It wasn’t particularly cold — the opposite, in fact — but she didn’t know if it would make Matthew feel weird if she wasn’t wearing pants. Fuck it, she thought, pulling up her boyshorts. If he had an issue with it, it was his problem. Throwing her hair up in a towel to dry, she turned the doorknob, poking her head out the door. “Shower’s open if you wanted to hop in,” she said.

Matty nodded, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I shouldn’t be too long, why don’t you find something for us to watch?” he asked, tossing her the remote. It wasn’t quite nine o’clock, and while she was tired, Maddy knew if she tried to go to sleep she’d wake up well before dawn, and that wasn’t something anyone wanted. Madison climbed up onto the bed, tucking her feet underneath her and grabbed the channel guide. True to his word, Matthew was in and out in under ten minutes, rubbing his hair with a towel as he walked out. Athletic shorts. Shirtless. Maddy couldn’t help but give him the once-over, having to jerk her eyes back up to his face the moment she realized what she was doing. Matthew met her eyes, the ghost of a smirk playing on his face. “I can put a shirt on if you’d like…”

“No! You’re good,” Maddy replied, maybe a little too quickly to avoid suspicion. 

He ducked back into the bathroom, throwing the towel over the shower curtain. “So, what did you settle on?”

She looked back at the TV. “Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives?”

Matty jumped onto the bed. “Guy Fieri. What a legend. Awesome. Where’s he going?”

Three and a half episodes later, it was almost eleven, and Madison’s eyes were starting to droop. Sometime midway through the second episode, when Guy was visiting an Asian fusion restaurant in Colorado, her head had drifted onto Matthew’s shoulder, where it had stayed ever since. His arm wrapped loosely around her, Matty brought his hand up to brush away a stray piece of hair that had drifted into her face. “Getting sleepy, Mads?”

She yawned, nodding and trying to push herself up. “‘M looking forward to a good night’s sleep in an actual bed.”

Matthew laughed softly. “Let’s get you in bed, then.” He threw back the comforter, Madison crawling under, and reached over to the nightstand, turning off the lamps and TV. “Give me your phone,” he said. 

“Why?” Maddy asked, her brow furrowing. 

“You always forget to charge it overnight, and I don’t want you to be grumpy when it dies at 10 AM.” She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a concession, handing over her iPhone. Matty plugged it in, clambering beneath the sheets. “Sweet dreams, Mads. Good night.”

“Night, Matty.”

 Day 3

 The first thing Madison noticed when she woke up was the warm, unfamiliar weight slung around her waist. It took her a moment to realize that it was Matty’s arm, who hadn’t woken up yet. For some reason that she couldn’t quite identify, or maybe didn’t want to confront quite yet, it wasn’t unwelcome at all, and she savored the last few minutes of physical closeness before he woke up. And he did, wake up, that is. His cheeks reddened as he opened his eyes, pulling his arm away to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

Maddy ducked her head. “Nothing to be sorry about. I didn’t mind.”

Matthew yawned. “What time is it?”

“Uh, just before seven,” she said, rolling over to look at the alarm clock. “I’d love to stay in bed a little longer, but we did promise the boys we’d meet them down at breakfast soon.”

He nodded, making a very concerted effort to not read into her statements any more than he absolutely had to. “Yeah, good idea,” he said, tossing the covers off and walking into the bathroom. “I’ll sit on you if you’re not up by the time I get back out there.” Maddy took the opportunity to change, threading a belt through her jeans and half-tucking a t-shirt. “I like the look,” he said when he walked out, as Maddy was twisting her hair up into a bun. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Matthew to compliment her; she had accompanied him to more than one charity event for the Flames as his date, but she had always been dressed up. Dress, heels, makeup that she probably stressed way too much over. Dressed to the nines, never in jeans and a t-shirt before. But she didn’t really notice, the compliment meaning just as much to her as if she’d been in a floor-length gown. 

“Thanks,” she said, stuffing her clothes from the night before back into her duffel. “I packed the rest of your bag while you were in there, figured I might as well.”

It was Matty’s turn to thank her, squeezing her hand appreciatively before giving the room a quick look. “We didn’t forget anything, then?”

Madison laughed. “We really didn’t stay long enough to unpack, but yeah, we’ve got everything, don’t worry.”

---

Elias had volunteered to do the drive down to Salt Lake City. Matthew’s inner six-year-old had returned, insisting that the group stop at a dinosaur park in a rural part of Utah. What “dinosaur park” meant, Madison wasn’t sure, but it made Matty happy, so she didn’t fight it. 

The museum was mostly outdoors, with life-sized dinosaur models dotting the massive field. “Were you much into dinosaurs as a kid?” Matthew asked Madison. 

“Kind of?” she replied noncommittally. “I always loved learning about them, but never had like a ‘dinosaur phase’ like David or Cody,” she said, referring to her older brothers. “My family used to go to the Canadian Museum of Nature a ton when I was a kid, since it was only a few hours away in Ottawa, and it has like a billion fossils in it.”

“Which was your favorite?”

“Pachycephalosaurus,” she said easily.

Matthew blinked. “Pachycephalo-what?” he asked in confusion. He thought he knew all of them?

Maddy laughed. “Pachycephalosaurus. They had these really spiny heads. But secretly, I think I was a little bit of a teacher’s pet who just liked saying the name. Pretty sure they were actually native to Alberta?” she added. “What about you?”

“Well, now I’m embarrassed to say.”

“Oh, come on,” Madison said, nudging him with her shoulder. “Promise I won’t make fun of you.”

“Fine, fine,” Matty gave in, “it was the brachiosaurus.”

“How come?” she asked curiously. 

“I liked the long necks.” 

They spent another hour or so at the park, Matty grabbing a keychain on the way out. “They didn’t have a brachiosaurus,” he muttered, half-angry, picking up a T-rex one instead. It wasn’t a long drive to the actual Great Salt Lake, and for some reason, they had trusted Elias with the aux. Much to Maddy’s chagrin, he didn’t end up playing ABBA, and they were instead led to cruise down I-15 to the dulcet tones of J.S. Bach. 

Madison looked down at her phone. “Anyone want to go see the Joseph Smith sphinx?” 

“Joseph Smith?” Rasmus questioned.

“Sphinx?” asked Elias.

Matthew laughed. “You know those Egyptian statues of like the cat ladies? Where they have cat bodies but the faces of people?” 

“Joseph Smith was the founder of the Mormon church,” Madison explained. “Well, technically it’s called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, but—”

“Know-it-all,” Matty said in a sing-song voice. Madison shot a glare at him from the back seat. 

“But most people still call them Mormons. And apparently they made him into a sphinx.”

Elias looked at her, still dumbfounded. “But why?”

Maddy shrugged. “Honestly? Beats me.” The weather had dropped too much by the time they had reached the lake to make swimming very practical, so the four of them settled for taking off their shoes, rolling up pants, and wading into the shoreline. 

Matthew bent down, picking up a chipped white rock from the ground, the water just lapping at his fingers. He handed it to Madison. “For you.”

She took it gently, running her hands over the jagged surface. “Aren’t you not allowed to take anything from a national park?”

He winked. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” They stopped at a Chipotle just as the sun was beginning to set, Matthew taking over driving duties from Rasmus. The plan was to drive for another two hours or so, stopping somewhere in southern Utah for the night to spare themselves from another night spent in her Nissan. 

They drove in silence for a while, Elias and Rasmus drifting to sleep in the back row, before a road sign caught Matty’s eyes and he spoke. “I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon, you know,” he said as they continued down I-15. 

Maddy looked over at him. “Do you want to go?” She didn’t know where the suggestion came from, but it was out of her mouth before she could take it back, and after a moment, she realized that she didn’t even want to.

His eyebrows raised as he glanced over at her before turning back to the road, the car’s headlights the only thing in sight. “You mean it?” 

Madison shrugged. “Yeah, why not?” She quickly popped the directions into her phone. “It’s only a few hours out of the way, if we drive through the night instead of stopping somewhere we should have more than enough time.” 

“But didn’t you say sleeping in the car made your back hurt?” Matty asked curiously. 

She smiled softly. “I don’t mind, really. I’ll drive. You’re more important.” Honestly, Maddy surprised herself with her boldness. She wasn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, but it hadn’t escaped her that the dynamic between her and Matthew had changed in the past few weeks and was about to come to a boil. Matty wasn’t exactly the type of guy Madison expected to have a lot of friends who were girls. And a part of her hated that, hated that because of his reputation she automatically assumed when they became friends that all he wanted to do was get in her pants. There had only been one time in their entire year of friendship when they’d even done so much as kissed, and it wasn’t exactly what you’d consider normal circumstances.

---

It was November of the previous year, about six months after Matthew and Madison had met. Matthew had been even more in his head than normal; he hadn’t scored a single point since midway through their East Coast road trip over two weeks ago, and the disappointment was really starting to rag on him. It might not have been something he outwardly showed all that much, but those who knew him knew that Matthew was actually a deeply sensitive person, who took pride in his wins and carried losses with him well after they had faded from the minds of the rest of the hockey world. 

When it had gotten to the point where his frustration was starting to affect his game, Maddy knew it was time to do something. “You’re so much more than your stats, Matty,” she had said, calling him right before she left for the Saddledome. “I know you take this personally, and you feel like you’re letting down the team, but that’s bullshit and somewhere deep down, I know you agree.” Matthew grumbled something that might have been an agreement. “Your team trusts you, they trust you with the puck and with the A, and you’re never going to disappoint them as long as you’re giving it your all. And if you’re the Matthew Tkachuk I know, there’s never a time when you don’t. And win or lose tonight, there’s nothing you could do to change the fact that your family loves you, and your friends love you, and I love you too. Okay?” Clearly, something in her little pep talk had flipped a switch in Matty, because he returned in spectacular form that night, scoring a hat trick in a roaring 5-1 win over the Coyotes. And he didn’t throw a single punch all game. 

A good game without a travel day following usually calls for going out, and a great game with your best friend scoring a hat trick definitely calls for going out, so she dragged Emily along to the bar that Matthew had told her to meet the team at. Matthew had pulled her into a hug the moment she arrived, kissing her cheek and trying his damndest not to spill the beer in his hand on her shoes. An hour and a half into the night, Madison was four drinks in, well and truly drunk, and Emily had wandered off and appeared to be flirting with an extremely oblivious Noah Hanifin. 

“How are you doing, Mads?” Matthew asked, coming up from behind her barstool and resting his hand gently on the small of her back. 

She looked back at him, a goofy smile on her face, and took another sip of her drink. “I’m good, I’m realllly good,” she giggled. “Did I ever get a chance to tell you how good you were tonight?” Matthew shook his head, very poorly concealing a laugh. He had had more than one beer, sure, but he was nowhere near as gone as Madison. “Because you were really good. A-ma-zing,” she added, punctuating each syllable. Her eyes softened as she leaned in. “I know the points drought was starting to weigh on you, and I’m really glad you were able to do this for yourself. I’m always proud of you, Matty, but I was a little extra proud of you tonight. People sometimes write you off as just another good player without any real subsistence,” she paused, correcting herself, “substance, off the ice, but I know the real you, and the real you is even more incredible than the you that plays hockey. It’s my favorite thing to see.”

“It is?” Matthew asked softly, leaning into the hand that had begun to caress his cheek a little bit imprecisely, but that somehow communicated every kind of unsaid word between them. 

Madison nodded, touching his forehead to hers, and then she tilted in. And then she kissed him. Her lips met his, and she tasted like lime and spearmint chewing gum and his favorite kind of tequila. Her lips met his, and it seemed like the room stood still; he barely heard his teammates’ wolf-whistles or Emily’s elated gasp in the background. Her lips met his, and he drank in every second of the kiss until she pulled away. 

---

Maddy hadn’t been drunk enough to black out that night, and she came to the next morning with a roaring headache and the pang of regret in her heart. She thought it was shame at her behavior, embarrassment that she could act so impulsively, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized. The fact that she kissed Matthew wasn’t the issue, not to her, at least. It was the fact that she was drunk in a bar after a hockey game and that wasn’t how she wanted it to happen. She pushed her feelings to the side, trying desperately to focus on work and supporting Matty through the rest of the season, but they always tended to flare up when they were least welcome. Like at the Idaho Potato Museum.

Which of course meant that Matthew would choose this moment, driving down I-15 with two sleeping Swedish hockey players in the backseat, to bring it up. “I remember when you kissed me, you know,” Matty said softly, reaching up to brush his fingers over his lips, like if he tried hard enough he could remember what it felt like to have Maddy’s pressed against his. 

Madison froze, which isn’t exactly what you’re supposed to do when you’re driving. She thought he had forgotten. He had never brought it up, so she really had no reason to believe he would have remembered. “You do?” she asked, swallowing.

She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye. “Mhm. I hadn’t thought about it in a couple weeks, but back in Idaho, in front of the World’s Largest Potato Crisp…” He let out an airy chuckle. 

Maddy breathed in sharply. So she hadn’t imagined that. Her fingers tapped nervously against the faux leather of the steering wheel. “Yeah…” She trailed off nervously. “I was drunk.”

“Oh, you were hammered,” Matthew agreed. “But do you regret it?”

There it was, the million-dollar question that she somehow actually had the answer to. A long moment passed before she answered, figuring it would be best to just rip the band-aid off. Worst case, Matty would hate her and she’d only be stuck in a car with him for ten-odd more hours. No big deal. “No,” she whispered, voice so small he almost didn’t hear it. 

“I’m glad, because I don’t either,” Matty said. Madison hazarded a glance to her side; he looked almost nervous, and nervous wasn’t a look Matthew Tkachuk did all that often. “I had wanted to for a few months, but it always seemed like it was never the right time, or something interrupted us, or I didn’t know how you felt about me. But you made the first move, and I’m glad you did.”

“How come?”

He sighed. “I don’t know how long I would have waited to do something, or if I ever would have done anything. I feel like sometimes…,” he searched for the right words, “the confidence that I have on the ice can be misleading. Hockey is about reflexes and instincts and knowing the game, but it’s also thinking three steps ahead, anticipating every possible outcome and preparing for them. And that’s the part that I carry off the ice. I think I was worried if I ever brought it up with you, if I ever mentioned that I so much as remembered the kiss, you might clam up and tell me it was a stupid, drunken mistake, and I don’t know what I’d do if you said that. Because I don’t know how you feel about me, not like that”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to force the words out, as scared as she was about admitting them. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Matthew had never seen Madison like this before, unsure and worried and downright vulnerable, and it meant so much to him that she was letting him see her like that. 

Matthew let out a watery laugh. “Only pretty sure? Hurts my ego a little bit.” Maddy opened her mouth, but he waved her off. “Because I’m definitely sure I’m in love with you.” This wasn’t ever how she imagined telling him, and it wasn’t how Matty thought he’d tell her, on a freeway in Southern Utah on their way to the Grand Canyon, but sometimes life throws unexpected things at you and you have to roll with the punches. 

“When did you know?” Madison asked curiously. 

Matthew bit his lip. “Few months ago? I knew I liked you as more than a friend probably since you kissed me, but it was after that game against Vancouver that I really understood I had fallen in love with you.” Maddy remembered the game. It had gone terribly for the Flames, a 4-0 shutout with more than one fight and the bench racking up penalty minutes. What she didn’t know was what made that one special. Matthew looked over at her, answering her unspoken question. “Why that one?” She nodded. “I think it’s because it was such a shitty game. I wouldn’t have blamed you at all if you had just skipped out after the end of the third, I know I can be hard to deal with after a loss. But you didn’t leave, you stayed. I remember seeing you outside the tunnel, swallowed by my jersey because it’s three sizes too big for you and you refuse to let me buy you another—”

“I don’t want another because it’s yours, and I love it,” Maddy said quietly.

Matthew smiled. “Your call. But when I turned the corner and saw you, I realized three things at the exact same time. You were there for me when you didn’t have to be, and I wanted to be able to do the same thing for you. Second, you’re who I wanted to come home to. And last,” he gathered his thoughts, “I realized if I never saw another girl in my jersey for the rest of my life, that would be fine with me.”

“I think I knew when you introduced me to your family, when you flew me down for the All-Star break?” He nodded in recognition. “Just seeing you with them, how much you love your parents and adore Taryn. You even managed to not chirp Brady for a whole dinner.”

“My mom threatened me.”

Madison laughed. “Even so. It just gave me a whole new side to you. I had seen you with your friends, and with the boys, and with me, but it wasn’t the same. How deeply you cared about making sure I fit in with them, and had fun, and felt included. It was the last piece of the puzzle, really.” Her hand rested on the center console after she downshifted.

“So, are we going to do this? Do you want to do this, Mads?” Matty asked, wrapping his fingertips gently around her free hand. 

Flipping her hand around, she interlaced her fingers with his. “I’m all in if you are.”

Matthew bent down, kissing their hands. “I’ve been all in since the moment I met you.” He glanced behind him to the backseat, where Elias and Rasmus were still fast asleep. “What do you think they’re going to say when they wake up?” 

“I’m not sure,” Madison said, laughing. “Probably tell us it’s about time. Pass me my phone, will you?” Matthew pulled out her phone from where it was charging on the passenger side. 

“What do you need to look up?” he asked curiously as she pulled off of the freeway and into a gas station; the directions were already programmed into the car’s navigation system.

Maddy gave a coy smile, gently putting the car into park. “I’ve got to text the girl’s chat, tell them they’ve got to make me a jacket. They’re going to go wild.”

 Day 4

 The chat did go wild, even more so after she sent a picture of her kissing Matty’s cheek. After about a half-dozen “we called its” and a promise for her jacket to be ready by the first home game of the series, she turned her phone off, leaning over to ruffle Matthew’s hair; he had taken over driving sometime around four o’clock. “I like that I can just do this now,” she mused, playing with his curls as they crossed the border into Arizona. 

“Please, no PDA in front of the children,” he said playfully, gesturing to the backseat. Elias flipped him off. 

The entrance to the Grand Canyon was only an hour past the state line, and there were more than a few cafés to grab a quick breakfast at. Most of the day was spent walking around the vast expanse of the park, marvelling at its natural grandeur, and taking more than a few incredibly aesthetically pleasing Instagram pictures. A few minutes before they had to pack up and leave for the last leg of the drive, they had hiked over to the South Rim. 

Matty leaned on the barriers overlooking the canyon. “It’s so big.” 

Rasmus snickered from behind them. “Duh, Tkachuk. That’s why they call it grand.” 

He ducked his head, blushing. “Yeah, I mean, obviously. But it’s just kind of surreal, you know?” Madison nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and if either of them had turned around they would have seen Rasmus and Elias sharing a very “I-told-you-so” look. “Kind of reminds us how small we are in the grand scheme of things.” 

It seemed like only a few minutes later that they were pulling into Las Vegas, Rasmus steering the car into the underground lot of the team hotel. None of the boys were expected at practice until the next morning, and they had decided before leaving that the easiest thing to do would just be to book the rooms for the one night. 

“Anyone feeling up to going out?” Maddy asked as they walked down the hallway to their adjoining rooms. “I found a tiki bar a couple blocks away, great Yelp reviews.”

“Sounds good,” Rasmus said. Elias nodded. 

“I’m in,” Matthew added, unlocking the door. “Meet out here in ten?”

The break allowed Madison to get a much-needed change of clothes while Matthew hopped in for a quick shower, emerging in a T-shirt and very, very nice-looking pair of black jeans. Maddy bit her lip, looking him up and down. “You like what you see?” Matthew asked, expression cocky. 

She shrugged. “I don’t have to hide it now.” Madison slipped her phone into her back pocket, grabbing her jacket from where it was slung over the lounge chair. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Matthew said, poking his head out the door. “Boys are already out.”

The walk to the bar couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it felt like twenty in the best way possible. She was holding hands with Matty, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing over the top of her hand, the twinkling lights of dozens of Vegas casinos in their view. Two and a half mai tais and an hour later, the group sat at a table in the corner as Maddy giggled, retelling a particularly embarrassing moment on her high school volleyball team when she tried to make a dive that instead ended up with a ten minute pause in gameplay and the worst nosebleed of her life. She finished the story to raucous laughter, leaning into Matthew’s side. He bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What is it, Matty?” she asked, pulling away to look at him. 

Eyes soft, he tucked a piece of her hair back behind her ear before speaking. “Just thanking God I invited you on the trip. And for the Idaho Potato Museum.”

Madison laughed, the sound like music as it reached his ears. “We should write them. Thank them for helping to get us together. Maybe they’d give us season tickets.”

“Who needs season tickets when I have you?” Matty chuckled, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers.  Sure, Madison was a few drinks in when she kissed him. And sure, it wasn’t like Matty was exactly sober either. But this kiss was different. This kiss was the start of everything. 

[bordeleaubeau]

when worlds collide - ryder donovan

chapter two wc: 6868

you pull the black sweatshirt over your body, the duluth east logo spread across the front, along with hounds hockey’ written across it. you swapped your black leggings for a pair of dark washed jeans, deciding you look decent enough for ryder’s game. you keep your hair down, running your fingers through it before grabbing your phone out of your pocket to send a mirror photo to ryder.

y/n: attachment: 1 image

how do i look?

rydes dono: rydes dono loved an image incredible

y/n: sorry, i’m probably messing up your pregame stuff, aren’t i?

rydes dono: not at all. i only just got to the rink, i’m not even in the locker room yet, no worries y/n/n

y/n: good, because i thought you also deserved to see a photo of our girl. i figured we could use it in our scrapbook thingy

attachment: 1 image

you send ryder a photo you had taken of saylor, where you grabbed an old hat you had from one of your american girl dolls and placed it on saylor’s head, along with a little button up jacket.

rydes dono: she almost looks as good as her mama

y/n: oh shush, donovan. don’t you have a hockey game to warm up for?

rydes dono: okay okay fine, i’ll let you go since you’re so eager to. sit as close to the glass as you can on the visiting side, and then i’ll meet you in the lobby after the game got that?

y/n: sounds perfect to me. see you after donovan:)

rydes dono: see you y/n

y/n:  oh, and try to go easy on my dad, will you?

rydes dono: no promises;)

you find yourself smiling at your phone. your dad had already left about an hour ago, and all you were waiting for now was for josie to tell you she was here with kennedy. once you got that text from her, you were grabbing your lanyard and your baby carrier with saylor in it. william was long gone as well, along with your mother, leaving you the last to leave the house.

“there’s our favorite future donovan!” josie yells out her driver’s side window as soon as you step out of the house. you shake your head with a smile trying to hide your blush as you go to get into the back seat. 

“oh come on, y/n. you gotta give us more details. because i’ve been on the edge of my seat since you told us about class today,” kennedy says, looking over her shoulder at you as josie pulls out of your driveway. of course, the second you had told kennedy about the little incident - or moment, rather - in child development, kennedy went insane. as predicted.

you heave out an exaggerated sigh, grabbing your phone from the pocket of ryder’s sweatshirt and opening it to your messages thread with him, then handing your phone to kennedy. as soon as she sees the name at the top her eyes are lighting up. 

she starts mumbling the texts you guys were sending back and forth, and a gasp falls from her lips. “y/n m/n!” kennedy screeches, whipping around in her seat to shove your phone in your face, as if you didn’t already know what the text messages say. you have a shy smile on your face. “he likes you, you big idiot!”

“i wanna know!” josie yells, stopping at a stop light. “gimme her phone, i wanna see!” kennedy hands josie your phone, and josie starts yelling just as loud as ken had been. “kennedy’s right! i don’t know why you’re saying he doesn’t!”

“okay, okay, gimme my phone,” you giggle holding your hand out for josie to give you your phone as the light turns from red to green. you see ryder had snapped you, so you open up snapchat and see ryder along with logan and ricky. ryder is in the middle of laughing, ricky is smirking and logan is grinning like a fool. you can’t help but screenshot the photo. “look at our boys!” you give your phone right back to kennedy who begins to squeal.

“look at logan!” she gushes, and from the backseat you can see the grin on the blonde’s face. 

josie pulls into the parking lot of the duluth heritage sports center, looking over her shoulder at you with a smile. “ready to see your baby daddy?”

“shut up!” you laugh, reaching forward to hit josie’s arm. the three of you get out of the car, you reaching over to grab saylor’s carrier. you walk into the arena with the girls by your side, already earning a few weird looks from people in the lobby. “i knew this was gonna happen.” you grumble. 

josie sighs, “they’re just judgemental people, y/n. don’t worry about it. it’s not like the baby is real or anything.”

“ryder likes to think so,” you roll your eyes at the thought, following the girls to the ticket booth to buy your tickets for the east game. once all three of you have your tickets you walk into the rink that’s still fairly empty, going straight towards the front row behind east’s net. 

“i know dono wanted us by denfeld, but, that’s not gonna happen,” kennedy sighs, getting comfortable in the seat to the left of you and pulling out her phone, smiling when she saw that logan had snapped her. “look!”

you and josie both giggle at the blonde's reaction, watching her blushing cheeks as she fumbled to unlock her phone. she opens the snap and her smile widens, angling her phone towards you to see the photo of ryder and logan. “smile!” kennedy says, and you do so before she snaps the photo and sends it to logan. 

“i wouldn’t plan on him answering you, kenny. boys got a pregame schedule, you know that,” you advise her and kennedy nods, knowing exactly what you meant. kennedy wasn’t exactly a stranger when it came to hockey boys. 

“yeah, he sent me that ten minutes ago. they’re probably gonna get ready to- never mind!” kennedy starts to giggle as the red box appears next to logan’s name, and then you feel your phone buzz in your hand. 

rydes dono:

tell kennedy she’s throwing my boy off, he can’t stop smiling at his phone

you laugh out loud, quickly typing a response. 

y/n: as if i’m not throwing you off yours? ryder donovan aren’t you supposed to be warming up soon?

rydes dono: been thrown off since you sent me that photo an hour ago, not gonna lie y/n/n

rydes dono: and only gonna be more thrown off when we come out to warm up, that im sure of

“would you look at that! ryder donovan, flirting with you in plain sight. come on, y/n. even a blind person would be able to see that,” josie says as she reads your texts from over your shoulder, a smug smirk on her face. “god, you’re both goners.”

y/n: don’t blow it, dono. it’s a big game for you guys. 

it’s only a matter of time before the rink starts to really fill up. you’re minding your own business, looking down at your phone before kennedy starts to repeatedly hit your arm. “y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n!” she squeals, pointing up towards the walk way the teams normally warm up on. 

sure enough, ryder is leading his team out to start their warm ups and logan is right behind him. you watch as ryder slowly starts to scan the home section, and once his eyes land on you you watch as a smile crosses his lips. he stops dead in his tracks causing logan to run into his back, and then logan shoves ryder to get him moving. you watch their lips move, but of course you can’t hear what they’re saying, but ryder shakes his head and laughs as he begins to lead the boys in leg stretches.

“okay, that was adorable,” josie smiles over at you. “he’s got it bad, y/n. and i’m the first one to call it.”

kennedy’s mouth drops open and she leans forward to look at josie, “nu uh! i was. cool it, jose. i called the first shot.” kennedy pouts, her arms crossing over her chest. but regardless of how annoyed she is, her eyes are trained on logan and there’s a smile forming on her face. 

“y/n!” you hear the voice of the girl you expected to be here, but hoped to god she wouldn’t be. her hand rests on your shoulder and you turn around to face her. “love the sweatshirt. surprised ryder would actually let you wear it, you know, he doesn’t give his sweatshirts to just anyone. i think i would know.” 

your eyes narrow at the brunette girl, “someone’s jealous she’s never worn dono’s sweatshirt, isn’t she?” you ask keira, and besides her one of her friends has to hold back her laugh. 

“yeah, no. dono’s not exactly my speed… anymore.” keira rolls her eyes before sitting back in her seat allowing you to face forward once again. 

“just ignore her, y/n. chances are she’s lying,” kennedy mumbles next to you, low enough that keira can’t hear you. “plus, would ryder even go for a girl like her? i highly doubt it. you’re much better than her, and i don’t think i’m biased.” kennedy’s nose is turned up, a sweet smile on her face.

“thank you ken, i love you.”

“love you too, y/n/n.”

you smile at kennedy, looking down at your phone as you feel a buzz.

rydes dono: was keira giving you any trouble?

y/n: what do you mean? and you’re not supposed to be on your phone right now

rydes dono: i saw her talking to you. just let me know if she says anything to you alright? i’ll deal with her

y/n: got it. talk to you after the game, rydes. and good luck:)

rydes dono:  thank you y/n. i’ll see you after, and that sweatshirt still better be on.

you can feel the presence of your two best friends looking over both of your shoulders. “you’re delusional, y/n. i swear.” josie shakes her head, arms crossing over her chest as she stares out towards the ice where the boys were bound to come out at any moment.

“do you guys not realize how flirty ryder is? he’s like this with everyone. at this point you guys are really just getting my hopes up.”

“y/n that boy took one glance at you and he fell head over heels - should i say skates? for you.”

“kenny, you’re the one with a little bit of inside knowledge, why don’t you spill?” josie asks, leaning forward to look at the blonde. kennedy looks like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide and frozen in place. she had been caught. “kennedy ann. if you don’t tell us all the information you have right now i’m not buying you caribou on monday.”

kennedy’s eyes glane around, her eyes lighting up when she thinks of an excuse. “i have to go to the bathroom!” she announces rather loudly in the rink, rising from her seat. you grab the fabric of her sweatshirt and yank her back down in the seat. 

“kenny if you leave now you’ll miss logs come out for warm ups. you don’t want that, do you?” you cock your head to the side, waiting for kennedy’s reaction. she lets out a sigh, sinking into her seat, folding her arms in her chest. “that’s what i thought.”

“yeah yeah, whatever,” the blonde grumbles under her breath, eyes glued to where the boys would eventually come out for their warm ups. “but just so you know? my lips are sealed.” kennedy puts her thumb and index finger to her lips, mimicking a zipper across her lips before folding her arms across her chest once more.

“so, big sister. did our boy william give his jersey to any lucky girl tonight?” josie asks, and as if it would help, you turn around in your seat into the sea or black and red. everyone pretty much looks the same, and you suck in a breath.

“yeah, i dunno, actually. i’d assume he’d tell me, but, who really knows? will doesn’t really like giving his jerseys out, it’s a superstition type of thing i guess you could call it.” before josie could respond, because obviously kennedy wouldn’t be, you hear saylor start to cry at your feet. 

“duty calls, mama,” josie smirks as you reach down to pick up the baby. you let out a sigh, and as if the timing couldn’t be any more perfect, that’s the moment the boys run out to the ice. 

you rock the doll in your arms as you grab the set of colored keys, grabbing the blue one for food and holding it up to the doll's chest. you look up at the ice, eyes glued to the number 22 for a few seconds, but your attention then goes back to saylor who’s still crying. you then grab the yellow key for a diaper change, and just like that she stops crying. 

you place her back in the carrier, and when you look back up, ryder is skating by, eyes glued to you as he does so. “look, look, look, look!” kennedy squeals from beside you, her hands repeatedly slapping your fabric covered arms. “look at logan!” her cheeks flush pink as she watches the dirty blonde skate right behind ryder, a smile mirrored to ryder’s on her face.

“thought your lips were sealed, kennedy?” you ask smugly, and as soon as kennedy realizes she had said something she lets out a groan, her head falling back in her seat. 

“did we really think it was going to last that long, y/n/n?” josie has an amused smile on her face, clearly entertained at the fact kennedy didn’t even last a full five minutes. you shake your head, eyes scanning the ice for the number 17, and when you spot william, of course he’s glued to ryder’s hip as they sit in the neutral zone to do stretches together. 

“look at him,” you pout, pointing to where the two boys are, and it isn’t too long before logan skates up right next to them making sure to cover them in snow. 

“look at him!” kennedy mimics you, her eyes doe like as she stares at the boy she fancied for nearly two years now. ken lets out a blissed sigh, like she always did, and keeps her eyes trained on logan. but you can’t blame her, because you’re doing the exact same thing for ryder.

you watch the boys as they warmed up, going through their normal sequence of doing shooting drills, their own stick handling, and stretches. ryder ends up right in front of you behind the net with a pile of pucks, passing them out to the two lines the boys formed to do one timers. 

ryder starts to skate slowly, his eyes scanning over their side of the eyes spending a few seconds looking over his team. that doesn’t last too long, however, as ryder is looking to the right and logan comes up from the left, hitting ryder into the boards right in front of where you and the girls are sitting. the two boys laugh, both of their heads turning to look at you and kennedy. your eyes meet ryder’s and he gives you a soft smile, gloved hand raising off his stick to wave at you. you give your own shy wave to ryder before he gives you one last smile and skates away with logan behind him.

william is the next of the pack to make his appearance, a huge smile on his face as he skates past making sure to wave at the three of you. he stops besides logan and ryder, the three of them talking before william skates off to garrett.

eventually, warm ups end and both teams leave the ice so they can zam it. you watch your dad walk off the visitor’s bench and into the locker room, already knowing this game wasn’t going to end well. you hear kennedy sigh, “gosh, our boys are so cute.”

“your boy is so cute,” you correct her, earning a pout from kennedy. “what? i’m not wrong. logan’s your boy.”

“and ryder is yours whether you like that or not,” josie points out and you glare at her. “what? i’m not wrong?” she mocks you. “come on. ryder would not interact with you like that if he didn’t have some feelings towards you.”

you let out a frustrated sigh. “i’ll believe it when he tells me. and he wont.” you say, giving the brunette a pointed look before you feel your phone vibrate in your hand.

rydes dono: that picture didnt do you any justice y/n

y/n: what’s that supposed to mean? and ryder, get off your phone, i’m serious. you are not going to get in trouble because of me.

rydes dono: you look better in person than the photo. and dont worry about me

y/n:  too late i am. i’ll text will to get you off your phone

rydes dono: okay fine i’m going i’m going! bye y/n, i’ll see you after the game.

y/n:  see you ryder

“oh come on, you have that smile on your face and you’re trying to tell us you don’t like him and that he doesn’t like you? that’s bull, y/n.” josie grabs your phone out of your hand, scrolling to look at your messages, stopping at the ones from earlier again. “seriously, y/n.” with a shake of her head josie locks your phone and hands it back to you. 

“he’s telling you without telling you. he isn’t upfront with his emotions, so this is his way of saying it,” kennedy says, trying her best to get through to you. “being friends with logan has its perks, you know. i know more about ryder than you think i do.”

“guys can we please not talk about this right now? at least not when i’m here. i’ll be back, i’m just gonna go grab a drink i guess.” without another word you get up from your seat, exit your row and start up towards the stairs that lead out to the main concourse.

no part of you wants to believe ryder actually likes you. because you know in the end, chances are you’d get hurt. that’s the type of guy you thought ryder was - pure happiness in the moment but it would only be a matter of time. 

you let out a sigh walking up to the snack stand, scanning the options as if you hadn’t already memorized them and couldn’t recite them like the back of your hand. out of the corner of your eye you can see a brunette girl that can’t be any older than fourteen staring at you. you try to ignore her to the best of your ability, but you ultimately fail when you look over at her. 

“who are you?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she glances to the number on the sleeve of ryder’s sweatshirt.

you give the girl a skeptical look, glancing towards the line as it slowly moves forward. “who are you?” you retort. 

“i asked you first.” 

since she glanced to the number, you figured she at least knew who ryder was seeing as that was her main focus. “i’m y/n. i’m ryder donovan’s-”

she cuts you off with a gasp, her eyes widening. “you’re y/n! ryder’s partner for that baby thing!” she exclaims, and as soon as the words leave her lips you can feel the heat on your cheeks. 

“and who are you?” 

she smiles, “clara. ryder’s little sister.”

yeah, not exactly how you planned to meet - part of - ryder’s family. 

“well it’s nice to meet you clara. i know it’s only a little project we’re doing together, but it’s still nice to meet at least one of ryder’s siblings,” you give her a smile, taking a step forward as the line moves forward once again. “do you want anything?” you ask, gesturing towards the snack stand. she’s hesitant. “come on, clara. it’s the least i can do.” 

clara lets out a sigh with a smile on her face. “i’ll make sure ryder pays you back, okay? but an icee sounds really good right now.” 

“good choice, girlfriend. that’s exactly what i was gonna get,” you smile down at the young girl. “what flavor?”

“blue raspberry please. if you like any other flavor you’re insane,” she jokes and you can’t help but let out a laugh.

you step forward since you’re ready to order, ordering you and clara both medium sized icees and handing the cashier a five dollar bill. you drop the change into the tip jar and it only takes a few seconds before you’re handed the icees and you give one to clara. 

“thank you, y/n,” she smiles gratefully at you and you nod. “you know, i’m a little shocked he gave you this.” clara gestures towards your sweatshirt and you can’t help but let out a laugh as the two of you walk through the concourse. 

“you know, that’s what everyone has been saying.” 

clara shrugs as she sips on her icee, the brims of her mouth already starting to turn a vibrant blue. “it’s the truth. ryder doesn’t let anyone wear his hockey clothes. he doesn’t even let me! and between you and me, i’m his favorite.”

“clara i like you already,” you laugh, nudging the girl in her ribs gently. “i’ll walk you to where you’re sitting okay?” 

clara nods and you do exactly as she says, waving to the small brunette that resembled ryder in an uncanny way. you walk back to your seat, not even noticing the grin on your face until kennedy pointed it out. 

“what’s got you so smiley, y/n/n? because ryder wasn’t out there.” kennedy teases. you had been gone so long they already cut the ice and the boys were out waiting for the opening face off. 

“yeah, your smile is kinda freaking me out. not gonna lie,” josie mumbles, stealing a sip of your icee. “still cannot understand how you drink blue raspberry.” 

you ignore josie’s comment, “i met ryder’s little sister. and she’s the sweetest thing ever.” you smile, eyes trained on ryder as he goes to take the opening faceoff. your two best friends both gasp and you grin. “so that happened.”

“did she know who you were?” kennedy asks as the game goes officially underway. the three of you keep your eyes on the ice, but still focused on each other. 

“that’s the thing,” you smile to yourself. “she saw the sweatshirt. so i said my name and i started to say how i was ryder’s partner, but she already knew that. so either all he did was talk about the project to his family or he actually talked about me.”

“it’s also not uncommon to know you, y/n/n. you’re will’s sister. instead of people ging up to will and saying, ‘you’re y/n’s little brother!’ you get, ‘you’re will’s older sister!’” you laugh at josie because she was absolutely 100% right. will was on pace for a sixty point season - as a freshman. in high school.

your eyes go to the number 17, watching as will skates up to hit a player on denfeld - and will isn’t the smallest either, so you watch as the boy in white falls to the ice. when he falls, it seems like all of east’s student section is on their feet cheering for will as he receives a pass from logan. you and the girls are banging on the boards, a wide smile on your face.

“that’s my baby brother!” you laugh, unable to contain your smile. you look over to the bench, seeing your dad shaking his head with a soft smile on his face. only one that you or will would be able to tell was a smile, though. because to anyone else it would look like a frown. 

logan stops quickly, dropping his pass to will who skates behind denfeld’s net and quickly banks the pass to ryder. will scrambles to get in front of the net, battling it out with one of denfeld’s defensemen as ryder takes the slapshot. will jumps to try and get out of the way of ryder’s shot, but his stick tips it right over shawn easty’s right shoulder and into the net. 

“will!” you jump up in excitement, everyone along the boards banging on the glass as ryder throws his arms around your younger brother who’s almost as tall as him on skates. 

“that’s goal number, what. twenty-five on the season?” josie asks from besides you, her eyes glistening. you turn back to face the ice, watching william go through the handshakes on the bench before the second line goes out. you look to your dad, his shoulders dropping as he lets out a sigh, hand going up to run down his face. 

“goal twenty-five of the season.” you confirm before sitting back down in your seat with a smug smile on your face. “ryder wasn’t joking when he said they were going down tonight.”

kennedy lets out a giggle, “c’mon, y/n. has that kid ever even had a bad game a day in his life? it’s ryder freaking donovan for crying out loud!”

the first period ends, you having to tend to saylor only once or twice, luckily making you miss the goal denfeld scored to tie the game up at one a piece. but there was still thirty-four minutes of hockey to play, and you had complete faith in ryder and your boys.

just like normal, you and the girls talk amongst each other and scroll through your phones. if the boys were able, you’d text will and ryder about how they both played an amazing first period. but since they wouldn’t be able to, you sit through what feels like an eternity of the girls teasing you.

the second period doesn’t exactly go as planned.

halfway through the second period, denfeld ends up scoring a goal, making them lead 2-1. ryder slams the blade of his stick on the bench out of frustration, his head shaking and you can see him yell a few colorful words before he jumps over the bench. you couldn’t blame him - the defense had been struggling that night. 

“they’ve got time, y/n. plenty of time,” josie reassures you, placing her hand on top of yours and giving you a quick smile. you nod, knowing she’s right. but every minute that goes by, the chances of the boys winning dwindle down. even with there being twenty minutes after the third period - denfeld would have most of the momentum to try and finish it off.

you just pray will doesn’t get into his own head. if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to live up to his potential and his normal game. and this was the game he really needed it, because you knew that boy wanted to show your dad in the worst way what he was capable of - and if it had to be against his own team, so what? makes even more of a statement. if there was anything one needed to know about william, it was that he loved making statements. 

when the boys come out for the third period, ryder makes his quick one lap around their side of the ice. when he he passes by you he gives you a soft smile, before once again, going to take the opening faceoff for the period. a clean win for ryder and he passes it back to logan, who then attempts a pass to ryan but it gets intercepted by a denfeld forward who then breaks away towards lukan. 

lukan is in position, shuffling along and following where cole olson was skating. but lukan isn’t enough for cole, who’s release is quicker than he originally anticipated. the puck flies over his shoulder, and at the opposite side of the rink denfeld’s student section goes wild.

“it’s over.” 

“kennedy don’t say that!” you sigh, but you can’t help think of it yourself. the boys are exhausted from rushing from each side of the ice, and you weren’t sure if they’d be able to keep up for the remaining seven minutes of the period.

coach randolph shakes his head and his hand rubs over his mouth before he calls for a time out. surprisingly enough, he doesn’t yell at his team and quickly draws out a game plan for them. when the ref blows the whistle, ryder’s line goes out for a center ice draw. 

ryder takes a quick little turn around center ice before he sets up for the face off. he loses it, denfeld’s center passing it back to a defenseman. will ends up pickpocketing him, passing the puck to logan and letting logan enter the offensive zone. he dekes the defenseman and fakes his shot to the right of the goalie, but tucks it in on the left.

“that’s my boy!” kennedy squeals, her arms wrapping around you out of excitement as she jumps up and down. “he said he was gonna score for me tonight. and he did!” 

you laugh, pulling away from the blonde. “he did,” you confirm, glancing up to the scoreboard. there were two minutes left and east was only down by one. so if they were able to pull this off, you’d go to overtime and hopefully finish the job. but anything can happen. 

“they’re gonna do this, they have to,” josie mumbles to herself seeming as if she’s trying to convince herself more than anything. you grab her hand as ricky’s line goes out, squeezing it hard.

the clock continues to tick down, the puck seeming to stay more in the neutral zone more than anything, but once the boys are able to get it into denfeld’s zone it’s like they’re trying anything and anything. but easty is able to stop and block mostly all the pucks that he faces - until ricky tucks the puck in his five hole.

“did he just score?” kennedy asks in disbelief, her eyes staying on the ice before she finally pulls them away to look at you and josie who mirrored her expression. but judging by ricky’s celly, he had most definitely scored, and the refs weren’t calling it off.

“holy shit.”

the clock ticks down until the end of regulation leaving for what would for sure be an end-of-your seat worthy overtime period. randolph of course starts out with ryder, will, and grant as their starting three. right away, denfeld is starting down towards lukan, but he makes a quick glove save allowing a quick little rest for the boys. ryder wins the faceoff, passes it to grant before grant is starting down the ice. he passes the puck to will, who goes to pass to ryder, but then will gets tripped and slides right into easty in front of you. the whistle blows, but one of denfeld’s players immediately goes to roughhouse with will.

“he didn’t do anything!” kennedy screams as if the boys could hear her through the glass. “god you’re a fucking idiot, aren’t you?”

you shake your head at kennedy, but your eyes then go to ryder who yanks the denfeld player off will. he doesn’t hesitate to cross check the kid and exchange a few words with, and for a split second you were worried ryder would actually end up fighting the kid. but he was smarter than that. 

the ref breaks the two of them up and points ryder in the direction to the penalty box. you read ryder’s lips, who lets out an, “are you fucking kidding me?” before taking his helmet off and running his hand through his hair.

yeah, it was a sight. 

“look at him,” josie sighs, and you look over at her with furrowed eyebrows.

“please, jose. back off my baby daddy.” 

kennedy and josie both let out ear piercing screeches and you shake your head with a smile at the two of them, surely not doubting the fact your cheeks were surely flaming red. you bite back your smile, your attention going to the game unfolding in front of you. a majority of the overtime period is spent in denfeld’s end, but none of the shots seem to go past easty. the time on ryder’s penalty ticks down, and you watch as the puck gets taken back into east’s zone. just as the boys kill the penalty, will gets a hold of the puck and shoots it over to ryder who sprints down the ice on the breakaway.

he’s skating right towards the net, right where you and the girls are sitting, a look of pure determination on his face. he dekes out easty, puck going over his shoulder and into the net. you jump up, a grin on your face as ryder spins around, his hand lifting off his stick to point to you. you bang on the boards as he skates over, his back hitting the boards as will and grant tackle him in a hug. 

will gives you a little wave as your student section goes crazy before the boys all go to high five the bench. then they do post game handshakes, and then you, kennedy, and josie are headed out to the lobby where you told the boys you’d meet them.

“that was crazy! did you see that move, y/n! the hands on that kid, wow, i just-”

you cut kennedy off in the middle of her excitement by placing a hand on her arm. “kenny, breathe. but yes, that was an absolute gorgeous goal. i mean come on, it’s ryder.”

“i wouldn’t expect anything less from the kid, honestly. he pulled through when he needed to,” josie shrugs her shoulders and there’s a smile on her face. “and not to mention ricky’s tying goal.”

“so all three of our boys scored tonight, i see that as a win,” you smile, and of course that’s when saylor starts to cry. you sigh, setting her down on the bench along the wall in the lobby to rock her before grabbing the keys. you fumble with them, grabbing the blue one for food, and she immediately stops crying. “and now, it’s a waiting game.”

like normal, it takes about twenty minutes until the boys slowly start to come out into the lobby to find their friends and family waiting for them. your eyes stay trained to the door, and when you see the blonde haired boy followed by your little brother, you can’t help the grin on your face.

“there’s my superstar,” you smile sheepishly at ryder, who tries to hide his smile by biting his lip.

“i’m not the superstar, willy is,” ryder shakes his head slightly with a smile, logan and ricky both following after him. ryder somewhat shocks you by wrapping his arms around your body, and in turn you wrap your arms around his neck. 

before you end up doing something stupid, you pull away from him. “yeah right, says you. you had the game winner. you don’t need to be humble about it rydes.”

ryder rolls his eyes, “i’m serious, y/n. your brother was the star of the show tonight.” he says while running a hand through his still damp hair from his shower. 

“both of you were.”

ryder shakes his head and you scowl at him, “nope, all willy. speaking of, you should probably go talk to him and your dad.”

“but rydes,” you pout, your hand fumbling with the fabric of his dress shirt. you ignore the looks you’re sure your friends are giving the both of you, and ryder smiles down at you, hand reaching to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, lingering there for a few more seconds than either of you anticipated.

“sweets, it’s okay. i have to go talk to my family. we’ll meet back here in five minutes, okay?” you still pout, but your cheeks blushing pink at the nickname. ryder’s eyes look over your shoulder where you assume his family is still waiting for him.

“five minutes tops, dono, you got that?” you ask, your pointer finger jammed right on his chest as you look up at him with the most stern look you can muster. but it’s ryder, and he looks right through that. 

ryder smiles, his hand wrapping around your wrist to set it back at your side. “okay, y/n/n.”

“okay, i’ll see you in a few.”

“yes you will, and take ken with you. i don’t need logan making googly eyes are her while trying to talk to his family.”

you glance over to kennedy and logan. kennedy is a blushing mess as she talks to logan, and being completely honest? logan doesn’t look that much better either. you smile and then turn back to ryder, “i will, she’ll want to see her superstar anyway. oh and rydes? try not to miss me too much.”

ryder pouts, “i thought i was your superstar. and don’t worry, you’re always on my mind, baby mama.”

you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. “you’re my superstar. meaning you’re only mine. but i share willy.” you say with blushing cheeks. “and don’t try to flatter me, dono.”

“you’re right, i am all yours. and it’s not flattery if it’s the truth, l/n.” 

with that, ryder sends you a wink before walking towards his family. “ken, c’mon, we’re gonna go talk to will really quickly.” you call, taking kennedy’s attention away from logan. she pouts, but you raise your eyebrows at her. 

“okay, okay! i’ll be right back, log.” she presses a quick kiss to logan’s cheek before she walks over to you. “did you see that, did you see that?” she giggles like a school girl that had her first kiss. “but y/n, you’re coming with us to old chicago by the way. ryder was gonna ask you to go.”

you smile, trying to bite your lip. “got it.” you reach your family, and just like you had suspected there’s a bit of tension. but that doesn’t mean you hesitate on throwing your arms aroun your little brother. “willy you played so good buddy.”

will laughs in your arms, wrapping his own around you. “thanks, y/n/n. it was a great game to play in.”

when the two of you pull away you allow kennedy to hug your brother while you hug your dad. “sorry daddy. you guys had your moment.” you joke with him and he gives you a half hearted smile.

“it’s okay, honey. win some you lose some. but do you have any plans after or are you gonna go home with us?” your dad asks, and you look over at kennedy hoping your parents wouldn’t see your blushing cheeks.

“oh lord,” your mother sighs, but nonetheless there’s a smile on your face. “what’s that look for?”

“jose, ken and i are gonna go out to eat i think, right ken?” you ask and kennedy nods. “of course if that’s okay with you guys.”

you mom shrugs before she looks over at your dad. “i don’t see why not. just make sure you’re home by midnight okay?”

you’re nodding right away. “okay momma. i’ll see you guys later. bye, i love yous!” you blow a kiss to your family and kennedy says her goodbyes before heading back over to the group where the boys all came back from talking to their families. logan nudges ryder and he looks up, a smile on his lips when he sees you.

“i’d like to let you know, y/n/n, you took five minutes and ten seconds.” ryder says, half smirking as he puts his phone into the back pocket of his dress pants.

you roll your eyes with a smile as you reclaim your spot right next to him. “oh shut up rydes.”

“i’m just saying.” ryder puts his hands up in defense, and you shake your head laughing at him before you look up at him with a smile. 

“but i’m here now, and that’s what matters right?”

“right.”

“that’s what i thought rydey,” you can’t even get the nickname out without blushing, and you watch as ryder’s face turns pink as he smiles.

“let’s just go get food.” he shakes his head laughing. “and i hope that’s okay with you, because we’re forcing you to come with.”

you shake your head, “it’s not force if i wanna go, is it rydes?”

ryder chuckles, his cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink. “well then why aren’t we in my car already?”

“what are you waiting for, dono? lets go.”

chapter three

[ana-benn]

I had a request for Jamie in a long distance relationship, so here you go.

I'm sorry it's so angsty.

A World Away

Warnings: I put a lot of my own separation anxiety issues in this, so it gets angsty as fuck. Still a happy ending, but it's a journey.

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You sighed again as you waited for Jamie's face time to come through. It was bad enough you had to work in the morning, more like five hours now, and you'd stayed up to see the game. You'd hoped to congratulate him on the win before heading to bed, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen.

A quick apology via text, was all you were going to be able to manage tonight.

When you'd met Jamie it all seemed so easy. A quick fling while you were studying abroad, before coming home and settling into real life. It sounded like a grand adventure honestly. Yet now three years in, two of which centered around long distance phone calls and a few weeks here and there to connect in person? This wasn't a way to live, and you knew in your heart Jamie agreed. It was one of those things neither of you mentioned though, not wanting to taint the time you had together.

So you just dealt with the anxiety and fear of what would come each time the other called. Both of you knowing your should end it, but neither of you wanting to call the parting shot. So you settled for video calls and text messages, each waiting for a hole in you schedule that would accommodate the other.

He'd stay up late on Fridays wanting to hear about your work week, and you'd stay up late on game days to watch him play. It was a trade off, but it slowly began feeling like not enough the longer things continued. It wasn't fair for either of you, and it felt so hopeless.

Your breaking point as already fast approaching when you went out for a group dinner with your friends. They all had significant others, and again you were alone. It didn't matter that you technically had a boyfriend, if he wasn't here to do life with what was the point?

So when your monthly Skype date night came around you knew you had to make the call, "Jamie..." You began. "I can't do this anymore."

His usual smile fell from his lips, "What do you mean?"

"This, us..." You replied. "It's so hard, and you and I both know it's not supposed to be."

Tears were threatening to fall, and you couldn't let him see you cry, "I'm so sorry Jamie." Was all you could manage before you shut the laptop and let the tears fall freely.

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It had been a few weeks since you'd ended things with Jamie, and you were finally feeling good enough to go out. Or more accurately, your friends hd decided it had been long enough and you needed to get out. Since you'd cut Jamie off you still found yourself in the same routines.

You stayed up and watched the games, and when the Stars lost you had to fight the urge to call him. You knew how much Jamie beat himself up about losses, and you wanted to reach out to him, but you knew now your called wouldn't be appreciated. If you were honest with yourself he was probably calling someone else by now.

On your regular date nights you sat alone in your apartment and drank red wine while you cried and watch romantic comedies. It was all so painful you wanted to get lost in the illusion of a happily ever after for a couple hours. The bittersweet wine matching your feelings perfectly, as you let the tannins dull your tongue. You only wished they'd work that same magic in your heart.

Some might think this should be the easier form of breakups. You didn't have to worry about Jamie showing up in your local grocery store, and you definitely didn't have to worry about seeing him out on a date with someone new. Still the lonliness that lead to your breakup felt more raw and clawing than ever. You wanted nothing more than to feel the heat of his body near yours, or take in the deep smell of his skin mixed with sweat, sandalwood, and something wholely unidentifiable. Jamie smelled and felt like home, and you longed for that sense of belonging.

Still you knew the long distance was slowly killing both of you, so you'd made it your mission to let your friends help you move on. So you sat in your bathroom making sure you put all the same effort in you would have if this had been your idea. Full make-up, hair done, and an outfit that made you feel both classy and sexy. You didn't really plan on going home with anyone, but it was your first night out as a single woman in a long time and you wanted to feel good. Of course as you got ready you couldn't help but think about when you did all this the night you'd met Jamie, you quickly pushed those thoughts aside. The ghost of his hands on your body was too much for tonight. You needed to let him go and start moving on.

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As soon as you got into the club with your friends you felt the infectious atmosphere sink into your body. You smiled, laughed and danced like you hadn't in so long, and it felt good. There wasn't a time crunch to get home so you wouldn't miss Jamie's call, or a need to keep guys at arms length. You just allowed yourself to have fun.

Which found you on the dance floor a little past midnight, with a handsome guy wrapping his arms around your hips. He was a little too sure in his movements, and his smile was a little too bright for a stranger, but you knew this bar and you felt safe. So you allowed him to keep you out for dance after dance, just enjoying the sensation. His overpowering cologne kept you cognizant of the fact that this man dancing with you wasn't the one you wanted, but you tried to keep those thoughts at bay.

"What do you say we find somewhere a little bit quieter?" He asked.

His lips kissed your lips gently, a mixture of sweet wine and cigarettes. It was too stark of a difference, and you couldn't help but compare the difference in the cool feeling of Jamie's beer mixed with some kind of citrus. There was a moment where you wanted to let him take you home, just to try the slice of difference, but in the end you couldn't do that. You couldn't be with someone else when you still loved Jamie, and you wanted to hate him for it.

You knew regardless of how you felt though you had no choice but to just keep going. So you stayed out, just keeping closer to your friends. They seemed to understand you were trying and didn't push too hard, even over the next few weeks. You went out with them, and so long as you didn't mope they didn't try and force you to try and date. They even understood your heartbreak when hockey season ended. It was a tear at your tentative stitches on your heart. That meant two things, one you'd have absolutely no way to see Jamie until the season picked back up. Two, Jamie should have been flying out to see you.

Which is why you'd forgone your Friday night girls night, and where at home in a ratty shirt and leggings. You'd chosen a dessert wine and chinese takeout, paired with the American version of the Office. You had decided to watch the third season so you and Pam could feel heartbroken together, and you wouldn't judge yourself too hard for crying.

You had hunkered down, and had started mildly contemplating getting a cat while the show played in the background when you thought you heard something outside your door. When no one knocked you assumed it was a neighbor heading home, and poured a new glass of wine. You kept hearing rustling sounds, and it was starting to freak you out. You considered ignoring it, but you knew you wouldn't be able to get it out of your mind if you did. So with a heavy sigh you got up, armed with a glass of wine, and went to see if one of your neighbors had locked themselves out.

What you saw on the other side of your door shocked you. Jamie was sitting next to your door, head in his hands and looking completely conflicted.

"Jamie?" You questioned, keeping your voice soft so that you wouldn't startle him.

His head popped up at his name, "Y-y/n, I'm sorry. I just..... The season is over and I'd already bought my ticket..." He trailed off then.

You looked at his sad eyes, considering your options, before holding the door open wider, "Come on, I have enough food to feed five people," you paused for a moment. "Or just you and I."

He got up, and followed you into your apartment. As you gathered a glass and extra utensils for him you took in his figure. His beard was longer, and his eyes seemed hollow. There was a weariness to him that you didn't remember ever seeing before. You'd wanted to see him, desperately, but not like this.