#synthetic ice skating

[icemagicsynthetic]

Why Artificial Ice Skating Rinks Are Revolutionizing Event Planning

Artificial ice skating rinks have become a game-changer in the event planning industry, offering a unique and memorable experience. Whether you’re hosting a corporate event, a festive celebration, or a private party, synthetic ice rinks provide the thrill of ice skating anywhere, regardless of the weather or season. These rinks, such as those offered by Synthetic Ice Rinks, bring versatility and excitement to events, making them a must-have feature for modern gatherings.

[globalsyntheticice]

Why You Should Not Buy Cheap Synthetic

Don't risk it with cheap synthetic ice! Inferior materials can ruin your skating experience, leading to cracks, wear, and subpar gliding. Invest in high-quality products to ensure safety, durability, and the genuine feel of real ice.

#syntheticice #syntheticicerink #icerink #iceskating #iceskatingrink #iceskatingfun @globalsyntheticice

https://globalsyntheticice.com

[techy-trends]

Revolutionizing Winter Sports: The Tech Behind Synthetic Ice Skating Panels

Winter sports have always held a special place in the hearts of enthusiasts around the world.  From the exhilarating speed of downhill skiing to the precision of figure skating,  these activities are not only a testament to human athleticism but also a celebration of the beauty of winter.  

However,  the accessibility of traditional ice rinks can be limited by geographical location and climate,  leaving many without the chance to experience the joy of ice skating. 

In recent years, a groundbreaking technology has emerged,  promising to democratize winter sports by bringing the thrill of ice skating to places where freezing temperatures are a rarity.  

Synthetic ice skating panels, a product of cutting-edge materials and engineering, are poised to revolutionize the winter sports landscape.  

In this article, we'll delve into the technology behind these panels,  exploring their composition,  benefits,  and potential impact on the world of winter sports. 

Composition of Synthetic Ice Skating Panels:

Synthetic ice skating panels are composed of a high-density polymer material that mimics the glide and feel of natural ice.  

The key to their success lies in the intricate formulation of the polymer,  which is designed to reduce friction and provide a skating experience as close to real ice as possible.  

These panels are typically made from a combination of polymers such as polyethylene or polypropylene,  reinforced with additives to enhance durability and glide. 

The surface of synthetic ice panels is infused with a self-lubricating agent,  usually a type of silicone or other friction-reducing material.  

This creates a smooth and slippery surface,  allowing skaters to glide effortlessly across the synthetic ice.  

The molecular structure of the polymer,  combined with the lubricating agent,  closely replicates the slippery quality of natural ice,  providing an authentic skating experience. 

Benefits of Synthetic Ice Skating Panels:

Let’s discuss the benefits of synthetic ice skating panels in detail:

Year-Round Accessibility:

One of the primary advantages of synthetic ice skating panels is that they can be used year-round,  regardless of weather conditions.  Traditional ice rinks are dependent on freezing temperatures,  making them inaccessible in warmer climates.  

Synthetic ice panels eliminate this limitation,  opening up opportunities for people in diverse geographical locations to enjoy ice skating without the need for natural ice. 

Cost-Effectiveness:

Constructing and maintaining a traditional ice rink can be a costly endeavor.  Synthetic ice panels offer a cost-effective alternative,  requiring minimal maintenance and no refrigeration systems.  

This makes them an attractive option for communities,  schools,  and recreational facilities with budget constraints. 

Environmental Sustainability:

The production and maintenance of traditional ice rinks often involve significant energy consumption and environmental impact.  Synthetic ice panels,  on the other hand,  contribute to a more sustainable approach.  

They don't require refrigeration,  reducing energy consumption,  and their long lifespan minimizes the need for frequent replacements,  further decreasing environmental impact. 

Versatility:

Synthetic ice skating panels are highly versatile and can be installed both indoors and outdoors.  This versatility expands the possibilities for creating temporary or permanent ice skating setups in spaces that were previously unsuitable for traditional rinks. 

Reduced Injuries:

The softer surface of synthetic ice panels compared to natural ice can contribute to a reduction in skating-related injuries.  The slight cushioning effect of the polymer material can provide a more forgiving surface for skaters,  potentially lowering the risk of impact-related injuries. 

Potential Impact on Winter Sports:

The advent of synthetic ice skating panels has the potential to reshape the landscape of winter sports in several ways:

Global Accessibility:

By eliminating the reliance on freezing temperatures,  synthetic ice panels make ice skating accessible to people in regions where winter sports were once impractical.  

This increased accessibility could lead to a surge in interest and participation in ice-related activities worldwide. 

Development of New Sporting Hubs:

Synthetic ice panels enable the creation of ice skating facilities in areas that were previously considered unsuitable for traditional rinks.  

This could lead to the development of new sporting hubs,  fostering the growth of winter sports communities in unexpected locations. 

Innovations in Training and Competitions:

The consistent and reliable nature of synthetic ice panels opens the door to new possibilities in training and competitions.  

Athletes can train year-round, refining their skills without being hindered by weather conditions.  This could potentially lead to advancements in technique and performance across various winter sports. 

Inclusive Recreation:

Synthetic ice panels can be a game-changer for inclusive recreation,  providing a platform for individuals with disabilities to enjoy ice skating in a controlled and accessible environment.  

The softer surface of synthetic ice may offer a more accommodating experience for skaters with mobility challenges. 

Cultural Exchange:

The global adoption of synthetic ice panels could facilitate cultural exchange in winter sports.  Regions that were once excluded from the winter sports narrative may now actively participate,  leading to a richer and more diverse global winter sports community. 

Conclusion:

The tech behind synthetic ice skating panels represents a significant leap forward in making winter sports more accessible,  sustainable,  and versatile.  

As this innovative technology continues to gain traction,  it has the potential to redefine the traditional notion of ice skating, opening up new possibilities for enthusiasts,  athletes,  and communities around the world.  

With the promise of year-round accessibility and reduced environmental impact,  synthetic ice panels are not just a technological advancement but a catalyst for a more inclusive and dynamic winter sports landscape.  

Author Bio: Techy Trends is a leading tech blogger with a passion for exploring the latest innovations. With a knack for simplifying complex tech topics, they keep readers informed and engaged. Follow for the latest trends in the ever-evolving tech world.

[rinksystems]

Exploring the World of Synthetic Ice Skating Rinks

Discover the realm of Synthetic Ice Skating Rinks with Rink Systems Inc. Enjoy skating year-round with innovative solutions that mimic the glide of real ice. Embark on an exciting journey! For more information visit our website! 

[hockeyassforposterity]

A beginner’s guide to goalie equipment

//

I’m taking a class dedicated to zine making and self-publishing this semester - and I made this for my first assignment. It’s twenty eight pages, printed on cream coloured paper, and saddlestitch bound with blue linen thread.

You guys seem to love goalies so I thought you might like this. I also love goalies, but in a sort of narcissistic way.

//

Full transcript with page numbers below the cut

(3) Under normal circumstances, there are six players on the ice from each team. One of these players is a goalie.

Hockey has a lot of rules, but to understand goaltending, you actually don’t need to understand most of them. All you need to know is that your team’s objective is to put a vulcanized rubber disk into your opponent’s net. This is called a goal. If you’re a goalie, then all you need to do is to stop your opponent from doing that to you. Most goals wins. Simple.

If items in pairs are treated as a single piece, then my goalie equipment consists of eleven pieces. They are as follows:

//

(4) It’s called a jock or a jill depending on your personal plumbing. This is the one that keeps you from getting hit directly in the junk.

They make ones specifically designed for goalies, but I don’t have one. After thirteen years as a full time goalie, this is the only piece of equipment designed for players that I still own.

“Jock and Jill went up the hill…”

//

(5) They look like shorts but they call them pants.

Goalie pants have extra padding to protect the front of your legs and very little padding on the back. If you fall on your ass, it’s gonna hurt. Ask me how I know.

//

(6/7) In comparison to the skates worn by players, goalie skates are shorter. The boot sits in this hard plastic dish called a cowling that keeps your feet from getting broken. New goalie skates have these built in.

Skating technique for goalies is based on pushing laterally rather than gliding forward, so the blades are straight instead of curved.

I’ve had my skates for almost ten years.

//

(8/9) Big, box-shaped pads made of synthetic leather that attach to your legs with straps, designed to take up as much space as possible. Hard enough that pucks bounce off, but soft enough to move in. Smooth on the sides so they can slide across the ice.

//

(10/11) If I needed a visual metaphor for goalie pads, I would represent them as wings.

//

(12/13) A piece of cut resistant fabric and padding that wraps around the neck and is secured with velcro, protecting it from cuts and from the impact of getting hit.

There’s an additional piece of hard plastic that hangs off the goalie mask by strings so you won’t get hit in the neck at all. These are known colloquially as danglers.

Neck guards are not mandatory in the NHL or PWHL. Some players wear them, but most players don’t. It’s your life, but I think you should wear one.

It is mandatory to wear a neck guard in minor hockey.

//

(14) One big piece of equipment that covers your entire upper body. A lot of little plates all connected to each other.

There is a lot of padding on the front.

And no padding on the back.

Goalie equipment is like a turtle shell, but in front of you instead of on your back. You have to learn not to be afraid. You won’t get hurt if you let yourself get hit head on.

//

(15) Why do they wear jerseys in any sport? So everyone looks the same, but with numbers to still be identifiable, I guess. In hockey, the number 1, but also the number 30 and 31 and other numbers in the 30s are widely considered to be numbers specially for goalies.

//

(16/17) A lot of goalie masks have custom paint jobs. My dream is to someday paint my own. If you know someone who could help me with that, please give them this zine.

I want to cover it in hands, because I love drawing them - but I’m worried that would make me look like a freak. Maybe that’s the point, everyone always says that goalies are weird.

Goalies wear pads and goalies wear art and goalies have special numbers just for them. Goalies do not have to look the same.

//

(18/19) It’s loud when you get hit in the head. If you get hit hard enough, the material of the mask will flex to mitigate the force of the impact and the straps keeping it attached to your head will pop off. So you don’t get hurt, your mask is designed to fail.

I once heard someone say they could never be a goalie because they aren’t mentally strong enough.

I don’t think this is true. Every kid cries at first when they get scored on and then sooner or later they stop. You will learn how to fail.

//

(20) Called a catcher or a trapper, but sometimes just referred to casually as the glove, it has a pocket to catch the puck. You have to break it in like a baseball glove. My dad and I spent years playing catch to break in my first glove.

My parents have two daughters and no sons. After we were born, people would ask my dad if he was disappointed to have no sons.

I don’t know why. You can play catch with your daughters.

//

(21) The blocker goes on your dominant hand and is the one you use to hold the stick. It’s a glove with a literal block of padding attached to it. If you position it properly, pucks will bounce off.

Like your pants, like your chest protector, like your mask, you have to face the puck head on. If you’re afraid, then you’ll get hurt. Do not be afraid.

//

(22/23) Hockey sticks are made out of molded carbon fibre and are hollow on the inside. Goalie sticks have a wider section at the base referred to as a paddle. The ideal paddle length varies depending on your height. You wrap the blade and end of the stick in tape for increased grip.

When I was fourteen I subbed as a goalie for another team at a tournament. My first crush on a girl was on a player on that team. She was blonde and wore glasses. I don’t remember her name. I haven’t seen her since.

There is a company that makes hockey tape with a rainbow pattern explicitly as a symbol of inclusion.

Last year the NHL banned its teams from wearing specialty jerseys in support of causes, any cause, on the ice. Later, they banned players from using pride tape on their sticks. When Travis Dermott used it anyway, the ban was overturned.

Marie-Philip Poulin is the captain of the Canadian national women's team. She plays on the same team as her wife, Laura Stacey.

We’ll get through this, please don’t be afraid.

//

(24/25) Goaltending works by covering as much of the net as you can. Obviously, the taller you are, the easier this is, but the way it’s actually achieved is with angles.

The closer you are to the puck, the less net there is to see. The better you face the puck, the less net there is to see. And of course, the faster you get to the puck, the better.

I am not tall, but I can get to the puck anyway.

If I needed a visual metaphor for goalie pads, I would represent them as wings. Why else would they call it the butterfly?

//

(26) How to be a goalie, in four simple steps:

Learn how to put on your equipment.

Learn to fail.

Learn to fly.

Do not be afraid.

[lunarimagines]

IT TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE [1]

Summary: An arrangement of convenience with Sunghoon doesn't go as planned when you get introduced to Jake. Things get complicated and suddenly you have to wonder how you can love two people at once without anyone getting hurt. Jake might just ruin your life...

Warnings: language, eventual sexual themes

A/N: Literally would not get out of my brain and the entire plot summary is written down in my notes app. I hope y'all enjoy, and please send me feedback!! Chapter isn't incredibly long because I want to test it out and see what y'all think.

Most people tend to forget - or pretend to forget - that idols have obligations and people in their lives pre-fame. For some idols, those lives are crushed and erased by companies from public view; but the people in their lives from before, the people who knew them the longest, still know them and remember that past.

It’s kind of like when you’re traveling through a town. It’s all foreign and new to you, but to many people in that town, it’s familiar and old. The people who know it best can find pain and love and suffering in that town. 

For you, the town is the ice rink. 

It’s hard to describe the exact smell of an ice rink. It smells like rubber and metal and cold. There’s really no other way to describe it. It is cold, obviously, but it’s a synthetic cold. Obviously. 

Still, it’s comforting. It reminds of a  blustery winter day when the weather dips below freezing and you know it’s going to snow soon, dampening the sounds of the outside and acting as a night light as the lights from the city reflect off the white shroud in the dark. That kind of peace and comfort is hard to replicate, but the ice rink does it for you. Maybe it’s because you spent most of your waking moments on the ice that you feel that way, the sides of your skates digging into your ankles to stabilize them, the rush of wind as you skate to prepare for your next jump, getting enough speed to launch into the air. 

For you, the town is also Sunghoon.

You remembered Sunghoon before he was a famous idol. You knew the young Sunghoon, the rising skater Sunghoon, the incredible skater Sunghoon possibly destined for the Olympics, and, now, idol Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon had shocked everyone at the ice rink when he announced he was pursuing life as an idol. Everyone but you. 

“Do you think… do you think it would be okay if I stopped skating?” He’d whispered it so quietly over the phone one night that the static almost drowned his soft voice out. You held the phone close to your ear, rolling onto your side in your bed to get closer to his voice. His call had woken you up around two in the morning and yet you had never felt so awake. Your heart was pounding and your hands felt clammy as you gripped your phone, staring at your wall in the dark.

“I think…” you paused, unsure. “I think you should do what makes you feel happy. What makes you excited when you wake up in the morning. If that’s not skating now, if it’s not skating ever again, that’s fine. That’s what I think.”

You heard Sunghoon’s steady breathing over the phone and you thought about the first time you’d met him at the rink. You’d both been young, steady on your skates but unsteady in nearly every other aspect of your young lives. You had gravitated toward each other due to your work ethic and dry humor. He’d been the first person you’d call when a new movie came out because you wanted to see it with him. You were the first person he’d call when he wanted to try a new restaurant because he wanted your honest opinion on the food. The two of you studied together when you could, skated together when you could, and trained together whenever possible. Everyone thought the two of you were dating, but the thought never crossed your minds. You simply loved Sunghoon and he loved you, a found family as a result of your passion for skating. 

Which is why he had called you to talk about one of the biggest decisions of his life.

“What do you want to do, like, instead? If anything, I guess,” you whispered in the early morning and cringed. You went for supportive but landed somewhere around awkward. 

Sunghoon laughed humorlessly. “I want to audition to be an idol.” 

You smiled. If anyone could make it as an idol…

“When you become an idol can I get a ticket to your concerts?”

Sunghoon laughed for real this time, and you rolled over onto your back as you felt Sunghoon relax over the phone. 

“No way, loser. I’ll ask them to charge you more.” 

He didn’t. When he had his first concert as an idol with his group after winning a grueling competition, he gave one ticket to you and the other to his mom. He even took a photo with you. “Anything for my fans,” he’d said, winking at you. You gagged and flipped him off behind his mom’s back, blushing slightly when you caught one of his group member’s eye mid-gag. The other boy had just smiled and shook his head as Sunghoon made a face at you, turning sweet when his mother turned around to hug him tightly again, proud of her son. He’d flipped you off back behind his mom’s back. 

Now, for the first time in all the years you’d known Sunghoon, you felt uncomfortable in front of him, sitting across from one another in the private dining room of an overly expensive restaurant. 

“I didn’t know.” Again with the whisper, like he was scared of what you would think. It was the same whisper he’d had when he had called you about becoming an idol.

“It’s okay. We can figure something out,” you reassured him, feeling anything but sure yourself.

“Of course they would do this, God,” Sunghoon breathed out, running his hands through his hair and hanging his head. “I am so sorry, Y/N. So, so sorry.” 

You sighed, standing to go behind Sunghoon. Rubbing his shoulders through his dress shirt, you sucked in a deep breath. 

“We both knew they wanted something from you when you switched, ah, career paths. If this is it, then this is it. We can figure it out later, but if we try to change their minds now it’ll just get ugly.”

Arranged dating. That’s what they’d proposed when they sat the two of you down for dinner. When Sunghoon had given up figure skating his parents had been supportive but displeased. He’d given up a shot at the Olympics after all. His parents had made him promise he wouldn’t worry them with idol life. The long hours, harsh environments, and dating scandals rocking the industry had made them worry, though. They’d met with the company and scrambled to find anything to make Sunghoon’s life more… stable. And they had landed on you. You had been a staple in his life for years. Those pre-idol obligations had come crashing down on the two of you on a Saturday evening, a rare Saturday Sunghoon had off. Arranged dating with the intent to marry, it seemed. They didn’t want to worry about all of Sunghoon’s future, the volatile nature of idol life making them nervous. 

You were the perfect candidate. 

“I feel like I’m in one of those, ‘My mom sold me to One Direction” Wattpad fics.’”

“Wattpad?” Sunghoon frowned, turning to look at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Nevermind, loser.”

“Wait, am I One Direction right now?” 

“Yeah, all four members.”

“There’s five of them, stupidhead,” Sunghoon replied, smug.

“Yeah, but you’re no Zayn. I’d gladly be dating him,” you joked, flicking the back of Sunghoon’s head. He stood up to face you, indignant. 

“Hey! I’m pretty good looking, too.”

You crinkled your nose at him, looking him up and down.

“That is no way to look at your boyfriend,” he joked, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the whole thing was. You couldn’t believe your own parents agreed to this, you couldn’t believe Sunghoon’s parents even dreamt this up, and you couldn’t believe you were in a terrible fanfiction trope. You wanted to cry or maybe laugh or maybe just sleep for a few years until your problems became less glaring. 

“Hey,” Sunghoon said, his hand sliding down your arm to hold your hand softly. “I’m not asking you to fall in love with me like that. They’ll feel better when my career becomes more secure.”

You sighed, looking down. “I just don’t know what the rules are for this.”

He scoffed. “What do your One Direction fanfictions say?”

You raised your head and stared at him, unamused. “First of all, I never read those. Second of all, if I had, say, read them, I guess the rules would say we could act as we always have. You’re not a good actor -” you held up a hand to stop him as he opened his mouth to say something snarky, no doubt “- so we won’t try and act any differently around your parents.”

Sunghoon nodded, still annoyed. “What about actually dating…”

He didn’t finish. You knew what he meant though. Actually dating someone you were attracted to romantically. It didn’t hurt when he said it, it just made you feel a deep, aching sadness in your stomach. If you dated someone you actually liked, you’d be labeled a cheater and ostracized if it was ever found out. If Sunghoon dated someone he actually liked… it would be the same but worse. There were no winners at this particular junction, no way to find a new route home in your hometown. 

You shrugged at him. “It doesn’t look good. Why? You have a crush on someone?” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes at your sing-songy voice. He pushed you away gently. “No, but I would like to find true love.”

You batted your eyes at him and he gagged, smiling as he turned to hug you. A hug from Sunghoon was pretty rare, and you held on tight. 

“We’ll be fine,” you mumbled into his shoulder. “You can’t scare me off that easily. I remember when you had food poisoning and still insisted on skating and-”

He pushed you away. “Oh my, God, would you shut the fuck up.”

You laughed, throwing your head back as you turned to bump your shoulder into his. The two of you walked toward the exit of the restaurant, him to his car and you, in the next few minutes, to the subway station to take a late train home. 

Sunghoon stopped by the door, turning to face you quickly. “Want to come over next Friday and meet the others? I’ll tell them about what’s going on and then you can meet them. Okay?” You nodded. It felt slightly embarrassing, but it felt right that his bandmates knew what was going on between the two of you. After years of telling them nothing was going on with you and Sunghoon it would seem odd you were suddenly dating the man without the context surrounding the arrangement. Embarrassing to say out loud, maybe. But telling them kept some part of your pride intact. 

“I’ll see you next Friday, then. Around eight?” you asked, checking your phone calendar to make sure you weren’t scheduled for work.

Sunghoon nodded, punching you lightly on the arm as he headed out. You plopped down in a plush chair at the front and waited for ten minutes before leaving after, taking your sweet time to get to the subway station. 

It was a nice night, slightly chilly but clear. The rush of traffic wasn’t slowing down in the city, yet the sidewalks weren’t crowded. Your pace was leisurely as your mind mulled over the events of the night. You wondered how your parents had agreed to it, but you figured they always thought you and Sunghoon were an item and felt it was natural. It stung a bit to think about, and your eyes got wet at the thought. You blinked back the emotions and trudged on, reaching the subway and taking the late train home. Miraculously, the train wasn’t crowded yet for a Saturday night and you found a seat. The swaying of the car felt relaxing on your suddenly weary body and you slumped back into the seat. You were almost dreading next Friday, but a small part of you was looking forward to meeting Sunghoon’s bandmates. You hadn’t met them, truly met them, except in passing at concerts. Now that his past and his present were merging you would finally have the chance to meet them.

All week you amped yourself up to meet Sunghoon’s bandmates. You finally felt ready as you got out of the cab behind their dorm on Friday and a staff member ushered you inside.

But when you finally met the members there was only one way to describe it: A Shitshow. And it was all because of one man in particular.

Fucking Jake Sim.

[nerdraging4point0]

Power Play // Chapter Three // Hockeyplayer!Noah AU

Tropes and tags: RPF:AU hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV. 

Content Warning: angsty romance, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, smutty, aggressive hockey players, PinV, MF relationship, possessive male, protective male.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

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The crowd is fired up as I squeeze between Dad and Jack on the home team's bench. The massive arena throbs with energy, flashing lights dancing across the packed stands and smooth ice. Blaring music competes with the deafening cheers of fans who arrived early just to watch warmups. On the Jumbotron above center ice, bone-crushing hits and highlight-reel goals from last season pump up the crowd. I bundle up in my cozy black fleece jacket, the team logo proudly displayed across my chest. My dad and Jack wear matching jackets and hats, pulled low to fight off the chill. I let my hair fall loose around my shoulders - an extra layer of warmth for my ears.

The arena plunges into darkness as the jumbotron fades to black. The crowd hushes in anticipation before a crimson glow washes over us. Bold letters flash across the screen: "Welcome the Rooks!" Our boys in black glide onto the ice - jerseys fluttering, skates carving arcs through the chill air. Moments later, a blur of gold and silver enters from the opposite end - the opponents have arrived.

The crowd roars as the Rooks and Pirates take to the ice. Fans decked out in black and red are on their feet. Across the rink, a sea of silver and honey gold erupts for the rival Pirates. The deafening cheers make the arena shake as the teams complete their warm-up laps. 

Our players zip across the ice, passing pucks in a frenzied warm-up. They swing by the home bench, exchanging fist bumps with Coach on each lap. Sanders zooms over and bumps gloves with my dad, then swoops around to me. He flashes a playful grin, head tilted, and I can't help but smile back as our gloves meet with a thud. Then he's off again, swallowed by the sea of players circling the rink.

McClain, the towering goalie, glides around the net, his massive frame armored in pads as he gathers up pucks. Pierce and Dominick hit the ice, dropping into deep lunges to stretch out their legs before the game. The rink echoes with the sounds of pucks clacking off sticks and skates carving the fresh sheet of ice. 

My eyes scan the team, catching Sebastian immediately. He skates effortless circles around the guys, poking their shins with his stick and shimmying his shoulders to get them loose. One by one, his energy infects them all until the entire squad is smiling and gliding around the ice, ready for a great game. 

As I look out across the ice, a sea of adoring fans presses up against the glass, eager for a chance to get close to their heroes. McClain, ever the showman, casually skates over and bumps fists with a starstruck youngster, posing for a picture with the kid's beaming mom. Not one to be upstaged, Sanchez whips the crowd into a frenzy, waving his stick like a maestro conducting a symphony of cheers. The arena erupts into a thunderous chant as the fans, decked out in their red and black jerseys, stand as one to worship their idols.

Sebastian and Karlsson slice through center ice like greased lightning, buzzing the Pirates with some cheeky close calls before zipping away again. The defensemen swoop back around, circling like hungry sharks eager for the kill.Sebastian's grin says it all - he came to fight. To win.

I'm transfixed, leaning forward, trying to anticipate their next move. Jack notices me watching and flashes a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He goes back to scribbling plays, unperturbed. The easy confidence of it makes me smile too, even as Sebastian and Karlsson continue their dangerous dance, ready to strike.

“Those two are certainly a pair of daredevils, aren't they? Always pushing the limits and getting their thrills. I gotta admit, their bold style is impressive, even if it makes me a bit nervous. They really know how to walk that fine line between crazy and genius!”

With a few slick practice shots, McClain glides out of the net and Sanders swoops in to take his place. The boys fire off some blistering slapshots, testing Sanders' reflexes. Ruffilo starts showboating, swirling the puck in dizzying circles with his stick, playing a little game of keep-away from Karlsson. Sebastian cruises by the bench, bumping fists with dad and Jack as he passes. He drifts past me, brown eyes sizing me up through his mask's shield.

The warmups end and the team hustles off the ice, dad and Jack retreating to the locker room. I'm left sitting alone on the bench, mesmerized as the zamboni glides across the freshly scarred ice, smoothing it over for the game ahead. Jack emerges first, focused intently on the paperwork clutched in his hands, barely noticing me as he takes a seat. Suddenly, the announcer's voice booms through the arena, drawing all eyes upward as he begins introducing the Rooks players one-by-one on the jumbotron.

The crowd roars as Joakim Karlsson takes the ice with a nod to his adoring fans. "Number 18, Jake Sanders!" bellows the announcer. Sanders glides onto the rink, Southern California smile beaming beneath his helmet as he greets the stands. The cheers continue as each player is introduced, building to a fever pitch when the announcer calls, "Number 13, Noah Sebastian!" The arena explodes in shrieks and screams - no doubt from his legions of female fans. The heartthrob glides to center ice, flashing his million dollar grin and eliciting another wave of adulation from the crowd. 

The energy in the arena is electric as the opening ceremonies wrap up. The anthem singer belts out a passionate rendition, players scramble back to the bench, jostling past me as I'm wedged tight between their muscular bodies. Sebastian vaults over the boards right in front of me, his rock-hard shoulder slamming me back against the glass. He rips off his helmet, his piercing eyes meeting mine for a split second before he drops down on the bench. I feel my heart race as his raw, aggressive energy radiates through the tight space. This team means business, and I'm caught up in their intense pre-game ritual, pulse pounding with excitement and intimidation.

"Listen up!" barks coach as he strides into the room. All eyes snap to him.

"Sanchez, you've got first line. Sebastian, Karlsson - you're on defense. Willow, Dominick, be ready to sub in."

He scans the bench, gaze hard. "It's time. Bring the heat today and leave it all on the ice. We've got a championship to win. Now let's go out there and crush 'em!"

The team roars, pounding fists and slapping sticks. The starting six spring over the boards, skates carving the fresh ice as they hustle into position. Sanchez glides to the faceoff dot, eyes locked on his rival Hemingway across the red line. Karlsson and Sebastian flex their gloves, sticks poised and shoulders squared, eager for the opening puck drop. The crowd hushes and the tension swells. My pulse thunders in my ears. 

This is it.

Noah's POV

My pulse pounds as the puck hits the ice with a crack. Sanchez bodychecks Hemingway, both of their wingmen rushing in. No luck - Hemingway emerges with the puck, barreling towards McClain’s net. I rock back and forth on my skates, poised to strike. Hemingway feints, faking a slide my way instead. I surge forward, stick low, leveling him to the ice as I snatch back the puck. Twirling away from the wingmen, I pass it back to Sanchez with a flick of the wrist. The crowd roars as we regain control, hungering for more bone-crunching hits and lightning-fast plays.

Sanchez charges down the ice like a freight train, barreling towards the Pirates goal. He loses control and is thrown off his skates, the Pirates pounce on the loose puck and race toward our zone, the crowd roaring in anticipation. Sticks clash and skates scrape as the action explodes, both teams desperately fighting for control.. Jolly and I scramble back on defense, sticks flashing, bodies crashing, doing everything in our power to shield McClain. The puck squirts free and the pirates pounce, but Jolly throws himself in front of the shot, taking one for the team. I help clear the rebound as the crowd roars. 

The puck is ours once again. Sanchez leads the charge, weaving through defenders like a snake. His wingmen flank out wide, drawing the defensemen with them. Sanchez winds up at the top of the circle, eyes locked on the net. He unleashes a blistering slapshot. The puck screams towards the goalie, too fast to react. Sanchez spins away, not daring to watch. The ref's hand goes up. Goal! The crowd erupts as Sanchez is mobbed by his teammates. Helmets clank together in celebration before it's back to business. 

Ruffilo whizzes past, giving my stick a friendly slap as he crosses over. Gotta love that guy. As wingmen go, he's as solid as they come. We're tight, me and Nick - been roomies for a while now. Probably for the best we don't live with Jolly too, that'd be a bit much. Don't get me wrong, Jolly's my right-hand man on the ice, we're a well-oiled machine out there. But off the rink? Me and Nick kick back, bust each other's chops, talk a little smack. That's just how we roll. I've got his back and he's got mine, on and off the ice. We make a pretty good team.

I'm still trying to figure Sanchez out. He's obviously a talented center, and he gets the other guys pumped up, which is good. But I dunno, there's something about his attitude that rubs me the wrong way. Like, he acts like he's the main character out there, and the rest of us are just supporting actors. I don't wanna judge too quickly, he might just be really competitive. But that arrogance could cause problems if he doesn't keep it in check.

The puck rockets across the ice as The Pirates battle to get it to McClain. Jolly and I scramble to guard the net. A winger charges at me and I slide to block, but the guy jams his skates at my feet to trip me up. I spin away from the attack but lose my position, forced to go where he steers me. Hemingway whacks the puck toward McClain, who splits his legs and snags it in his glove. The crowd roars at the clutch save.

I scan the crowd, my eyes darting from the approving cheers of the fans to the nods of my teammates. But my gaze keeps getting drawn back to her. The coach's daughter. She's been here since yesterday, hanging all over her dad. I tried not to notice her at first - I'm here to play hockey, not ogle girls. But I can't seem to look away for long. 

The way she moves, the cute little smiles she gives her dad. She's got my head spinning more than taking a hard check into the boards. I've gotta get my focus back if I want to play well tonight.

Coach would slaughter me if he caught me within 100 feet of his daughter. Hell, I didn't even know he had one until just yesterday. Can't blame him for wanting to keep her far away from us hooligans. If I had a girl that looked like her, I'd lock her in a tower. But damn, the second I saw her, something inside me snapped. My inner defenseman kicked in - I wanted to shield her from these animals, keep her safe. She's not mine...yet. But I'll be damned if I let any of these punks lay a finger on her. I'll knock 'em into next week if they even look at her wrong. That angel's gonna be protected at all costs. Coach better keep that beauty off the ice, 'cause she's got this enforcer feeling some type of way.

Sanchez is back on the ice, battling Hemingway for the puck like two bucks locked in a duel - even their wingmen keep their distance. Karlsson slaps his stick on the boards twice, jolting me back into the action. We watch Sanchez twirl and shove Hemingway, fighting for control. Then I see it coming - Hemingway's left winger charges Ruffilo, tripping our man and making him flinch, slashing down toward the dude's skates inches from his own. The ref's whistle pierces the tense air as he calls slashing on Ruffilo, handing him a two-minute penalty. The crowd erupts into a chorus of boos while Ruffilo glides to the box, shaking his head.

Man, I feel for my buddy out there. He didn't mean to. But did the ref see it that way? No chance. Two minutes in the box. Unbelievable. Now the rest of us have to pick up the slack while Ruffilo cools his heels. Me and Jolly slide in, McClain’s head on a swivel now that we’re down a man.

The puck rockets toward me as I skate backwards, eyes locked on it, guarding the goal with everything I've got. Hemingway winds up and fires a blistering slapshot through a seam in our defense. I dive, stretching every inch of my pads to block it, but the puck deflects off McClain's stick and glides into the corner of the net. The ref's whistle pierces the tense air. Hemingway's teammates swarm him as the crowd erupts. We were so close to stopping them. If only McClain had kept his focus. But it's too late now. The damage is done.

My blood is boiling so hot I can feel it flushing my face. I circle the rink to cool off before I explode. Nick's back from the box, his eyes narrowed to slits. He's out for blood.

Sanchez streaks up the ice with the puck, Pierce on his tail. But the Pirates' D shoves Pierce hard into the boards. Now Pierce is seeing red too. He grabs the bastard's jersey, drops his stick and gloves, and drags him along the ice. Pierce is ready to pound him into the ground right here.

We all grind to a halt, transfixed by the scene erupting before us. I charge forward, stick clattering to the ice, ready to drop the gloves as the D wads up Pierce's jersey in his fist. The ref circles like a shark, while Coach's screams echo from the bench. I glance over and see her leaning over the boards, eyes blazing, shouting breathlessly as she watches Pierce and his nemesis tangled together. Man, the intensity in her gaze is electric. Must be the adrenaline and testosterone coursing through my veins, but damn if she doesn't look sexy as hell at this moment.

Pierce and his rival crash together, gloves dropping as the ref struggles to pull them apart. The crowd roars as fists fly, the two tangled in a full-on brawl. Sharp whistles pierce the din as the ref forces them to their corners, both still straining against his grip. They're banished to the sin bin while tensions boil, leaving the ice open for Dominick to vault over the boards. He joins the nameless sub now skating for the Pirates, eager to capitalize on the empty space. The crowd pounds the glass, feeding off the raw intensity as play resumes in the wake of the fight.

We're locked in a never-ending battle on the ice, the clock winding down as overtime drags on. One more blistering slapshot, one more brick wall save, and victory is ours. Firing up my teammates, I skate around them offering as much encouragement as I can. 

“Dom, Ruff, Sanchez - skate like your lives depend on it. Harass them, frustrate them, smother them! Don't give their stars an inch to breathe out there.” I skate around turning to our goalie “McClain, my brother - I need you to lay out and block every shot you can. Be our brick wall. We're too close to let it slip away now. One more stop, one more big play. That's all we need. Let's bring this W home in front of our fans! Now let's get out there and take what's ours!”

The boys erupt in a roar, heads bowed as they clench their sticks with white-knuckled intensity under their gloves. The ice shudders under the force of their voices. They're fired up and ready to battle, adrenaline pumping through their veins.

The puck rockets through the air and Sanchez snatches it, a warrior king charging forward as the black disc zips between him, Dom and Ruff. They weave a web of deception, bamboozling the opposing defense just long enough for Sanchez to whip around the net and slam the puck into the gaping goal mouth. The ref's whistle pierces the din and I hurtle my stick away, tear off my helmet and blaze towards my brothers. We collide in a crush of celebration as the rest of the team swarms the ice. 

We separate carefully trying not to catch each other's blades. I slide back, regaining my footing before skating to grab my stick and helmet. On the bench, she bounces excitedly, hugging her dad in celebration of our victory. Her cheeks flush red with exhilaration, her smile radiant. She's tied her hair back in a messy ponytail, loose strands perfectly framing her face. I'm mesmerized watching her, knowing if she sticks around much longer, I'll either lose the championship or lose my heart completely.

[ddejavvu]

headcannon for Remus

I feel like remus would be the type of person to stop you (and his friends) from getting in trouble and then saying "the blame would be on me" as an excuse cuz he's trying to show he doesn't care much. We all know he's just subconsciously the responsible and logical one in the group so he'd try not to make a big deal outta it. (P.s. I do this a lot with my friends and sister, and Ik damn well that I won't get the blame)

Remus, for his own protection, acts aloof. You understand why, he can't let on too many weaknesses or else the people that aren't too fond of him would only have more to work with. But if you observe him carefully, you can see the tenderness escape his mouth through words disguised as insults.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard, Prongs." Remus drawls, thumbing through the pages of his history of magic textbook, in search of an answer, "You're losing your touch."

"It sounds fun!" You gush, "The freezing charm works fine, we've tested it before! And we skate on the lake all the time in the winter, what's the problem now?"

"The problem now is that you're trying to synthetically freeze the lake," He narrows his eyes at you over the spine of the book, "And you've only tested the freezing charm out on a glass of water. Do you understand how much more manpower you'll need to freeze the black lake? It means you'll need all hands on deck, and I'm not serving detention just because you wanted to ice skate in May."

"I don't buy it," Sirius decides, and Remus tucks his head slightly further towards the book, "I think you're worried about us, Moony."

"I am. I'm worried that you'll die after I choke you out for getting us caught," Remus muses, eyes stuck on a spot in the text rather than scanning the words, "And I'm even more worried about getting thrown in Azkaban for murder."

"That's bullshit!" James gawps, and you agree.

"I think you're worried it'll crack," You hum, "And that we'll fall in, and one of us might get scooped up by the squid, or dragged down by a grindylow. I think you think it's too dangerous."

Sirius and James look pleased at your evaluation, and Remus the opposite. You know the boy's heart is full of nothing but love and adoration (alright, a smidge of annoyance) for you all, but you're well used to the tough persona he puts on.

"You're delusional," Remus diagnoses, "I think you've actually gone mad."

"Don't worry Moony," James gushes, standing from his own bed and crossing to crawl onto Remus's, "We'll stay safe! We'll all cuddle up with you right here-" At his words, you and Sirius bolt for the bed as well, squeezing yourself around him on the mattress despite his protests, "-and we'll stay away from the dangerous lake."

"Promise," You croon, pressing a kiss to his scarred cheek that feels suspiciously hot beneath your lips. Sirius does the same on his other side, and James feels left out, so he tips Remus's head back to kiss upside-down at his forehead.

"Alright, s'enough," Remus snaps, grumbling as you all settle in while he tries focusing on his studies, "Dangerous lake. Forget the squid, I'll drown the lot of you."

[nightmaremonarch]

circus baby redesign! i redesigned every canon sister location animatronic except ennard and the little freaks (biddybabs n minirinas) so go check out my previous redesigns! feel free to use this with credit :)

if you want to see more fnaf redesigns let me know! now onto the explanationnn

Ok. So of all the redesigns. circus baby's deffo took the longest. the others each took around ~5 hours and circus baby's took. ten. mostly because of the excessive amount of detail i gave her. she's the main character! she needed way more detail!

so. anyways! i made her much more clowny! her name is circus baby, and her original design was barely a clown besides the face and the shoes!! so i upped it by a thousand, and now she's much more circus-y! she also needed a fun hat because i think the clown hat is very important and essential. for everything.

along with that she's covered in glitter! how r u gonna have a voice line of hers be "i was covered in glitter" and NOT cover her in glitter! so now? all her clothes sparkle!

out of all the funtimes i think her and funtime freddy are the largest because they both have to be proportional to their large internal systems, funtime freddy having the storage tank and circus baby having her "ice cream" machine. so for funzies and be she's so large her eyes r up really high!! cause.. nobody's gonna be viewing her from head on. so if she looks down at some kid or smthn, she looks more normal!!

like the other funtimes she still has all her original features!! i didn't know how to show an emergency stop thing though so she still has that, but it's probably. like. a button or something somewhere. also the tips of her fingers are the balloon makers !!

she also has a lot details that are really hard to see but like.. i thought they'd be fun to add!! one of those is sliver of blue in her eyes as a reference to her original eye color :)

her hair, like ballora's, is synthetic cause it adds more movement! and her most of her clothes are real. her hands, legs, and feet are rubber though.. so the gloves and socks are not real :( the ruffles on every part of her outfit were also very important and very necessary to the fnaf lore and not just be i like drawing ruffles!!

so inside her internal compartment are a supply of balloons, cake perfume (“i smelled like birthday cake”), ice cream, ice cream cones, an ice cream holder, and the scooper. to stay inside the scoopers all folded up in there like a really painful jack-in-the-box, so the internal compartment is really cramped and does not leave much room for anything else. it's kinda more a "murk on sight" thing rather than a "kill and contain" like funtime freddy because there simply isn't enough room for storing anything else.

also while i was making this i was thinking of a scrap baby design to maybe create in the future, but im probably not going to 😭😭 but. Scrap babies hair would be yarn and her face would be paper plates or something cause she raided a craft store. Idk where she got the roller skates but in this au scrap baby robbed a craft store.

Anywho! that's all for the sister location redesigns!! if anyone has any questions or wants to see other characters in this au Imk!! i love requests and i will answer the questions to the best of my ability!!

[mad-hunts]

feeling strangely... sort of fluffy, but in an almost sad way, right now and this is because i could just imagine barton setting up some of those synthetic ice-skating tiles whenever marcy was still around and doing so in their kitchen. and this way, he could help her practice it at home && IDK why, but them almost always skating to something fun like 'let's groove' just makes sense to me — because in essence, barton thought it'd help her relax a little more, and he just liked being a little silly around her sometimes 😭

[icemagicsynthetic]

Why Artificial Ice Skating Rinks Are a Game-Changer for Events

In recent years, artificial ice skating rinks have emerged as an exciting feature for events, transforming the way people experience skating. Whether you’re organizing a corporate function, a holiday event, or a birthday party, synthetic ice rinks bring the magic of ice skating to any location, regardless of weather or season. Here’s a closer look at why artificial ice rinks, like those available from Synthetic Ice Rinks, are changing the game for event planners everywhere.

[anticomedygarden]

scarves

Harry and Draco have fun at a winter festival. That's it.

-

also on ao3

-

"Are you ready to go, yet?" Harry called up the stairs, not for the first time. He was standing at the entrance of Number 12 Grimmauld Place waiting for his boyfriend so that they could go to the neighborhood winter festival, or, as Draco put it, "appease the stupid muggles who don't even know where we live."

"Almost," Draco said, again, not for the first time. What was he even doing up there? Harry knew that it took him a while to get ready, but this was ridiculous.

Just as he was about to go check on him, Draco finally appeared at the top of the steps from the dark, unlit hallway - they really should get that fixed - sporting tight black trousers and a light grey sweater with his blond hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Of course, there was the one accessory Harry thought he could do without: the green and silver scarf dangling from his neck, but none of that explained what had taken him so damn long.

"Finally," he said. "You know you don't have to dress up for this; I'm pretty sure everyone's going to be totally bundled."

Draco eyed Harry's dark sweatpants and old Hogwarts hoodie distastefully. "Lucky for us, we have warming charms and don't have to go out looking like we're going for a run in freezing weather."

The like you do was left unsaid, though Harry could admit his boyfriend looked good. "But that's basically what we're doing."

"Yes, but we don't have to look like it."

"Get out."

"You first."

"Gladly."

Then, they were out the door and walking toward the sidewalk. Unfortunately, their muggle neighbors, a man, woman, and toddler, at Number 13 Grimmauld Place chose that moment to leave their house. Harry went to grab his wand out of his back packet (sorry Mad-Eye), but Draco already had his out and was muttering something under his breath. The next second, the muggles turned back to their front path and walked on, completely oblivious to the wizards standing in the yard behind them. The toddler even jumped in a snow drift left over from last night's storm, much to the annoyance of her parents who just barely managed to coax her out of the pile and back down the street.

Harry looked at Draco. "We have got to start checking outside before we leave the house."

Draco glanced back over at the muggles. "Or we could just keep obliviating them. It's worked so far."

They waited a second for their neighbors to pass their section of the sidewalk before continuing on. "I'm afraid the little one is going to get permanent brain damage."

"There's no record of that ever happening."

"Why do you know that?"

Draco just shrugged, and they eventually made it to the end of the neighborhood where the houses gave way to shops, restaurants, and other small businesses. The owners of most them had little booths just outside their doors to promote themselves, but the big draw was the synthetic ice rink set up in the parking lot behind one of the restaurants. Already, children were tumbling over each other in their feeble attempts to skate. Harry couldn't wait to drag Draco onto it.

"What do you want to do first?" he asked. It wasn't dark enough for the streetlights to be turned on, but the road was well lit anyway with bright colors from the booths trying to attract attention.

"I'm not skating," Draco said firmly, a dark red light catching on his chin and neck.

He was, but Harry wouldn't spoil the surprise yet. "Let's look at the booths. We need to get gifts still." He took Draco's hand and dragged him over to the first booth only for the blond to keep going.

"What are you doing?" he asked. He didn't even get to see what they were selling.

"We can't stop there, the owner doesn't like me."

The next booth was selling homemade earrings, which they glanced at before moving on. Was it Harry, or had a blush risen to Draco's pale cheeks? "What in Merlin's name did you do?"

Draco's cheeks turned redder. "It wasn't anything I did..." He trailed off.

At once, Harry knew what he meant. "No."

"Yes, and now, he hates me. It's for the best; none of his books are good."

"He's selling books?" Harry asked incredulously. That would've taken care of Hermione's gift and possibly even a few others.

"We'll just have to find something else for Hermione."

They continued perusing booths and managed to find some trinkets they thought their friends would like: a pretty blue bracelet for Pansy, warm gloves for Ginny that could be modified into Quidditch gloves, some toys for Rose and Teddy, and an odd looking stuffed pink elephant for Luna. They had a close call when a vendor noticed Draco shove the elephant into his pants' pocket, but ultimately, the muggle laughed it off. No more brain damage in the neighborhood today.

Now it was time for skating.

The second Harry turned to Draco at the end of the street, the blond started shaking his head. "Absolutely not."

Harry took his hand and dragged him bodily back up the street to the parking lot behind the restaurant at the end of the block. "C'mon, just for a little bit."

"No, no, no," he said, repeating the word the whole way down the street. When they got to the rink, he sank onto one of the benches they had for people to sit on while they put the skates on and refused to stand back up. "I told you, I'm not skating."

Harry grinned into his hoodie. "You don't even have to let go of the wall. It'll be fun!" At least, he hoped it would be. He'd never actually skated. Surely, it couldn't be worse than balancing on a wet broom in the middle of a storm while dodging bludgers.

Nevertheless, he went and got two pairs of skates in their sizes and brought them over to where Draco was sitting in despair.

"No, I'm not doing it. I'll fall and look stupid."

"More stupid than you do right now sitting on the side while children less than half your age are out there?"

Draco glared at him, unconvinced.

"Just try it, please? For me?"

Finally, Draco's eyes softened, and he grabbed the stakes and shoved them on his feet, leaving his shoes under the chair. Harry did the same.

Now for the hard part. He gripped the side of the bench tightly and slowly pushed himself upward, smiing when he managed to remain standing. This wasn't so hard. He certainly felt more balanced than he thought he would.

He looked behind him to see Draco also standing tentatively, hunched over to maintain balance. Already, this was bringing back memories of the first time he'd ever flown. He had a feeling he would not take to the skates as well as he had to the broom.

Slowly, he took a step without falling, and then another and another until he was at the entrance to the rink, Draco a few steps behind. He took yet another step onto the ice, and his foot nearly went out from under him. He grabbed the short black border in a death grip.

He was wrong. This was the hard part.

"Wait," Draco panted, also clutching the wall. "Have you never skated before?"

Harry looked at him in surprise. "When would I have ever skated?"

Draco's knees were trembling from clenching his muscles so hard, but his expression was hard as stone. "You took me out here, and you've never even skated?"

"Again, when do you think I would have skated?"

"I don't know, you grew up in this world, maybe you'd been to one of these before."

Harry picked his foot back up and clunkily slid his way fully onto the ice. Draco did not follow him this time. "Yes, I had so much fun at the rink in between cooking meals, sleeping in my cupboard, and getting my arse beat. Now, you've already got the skates on, just get out here."

Draco heaved an enormous sigh, closing his eyes long enough to count to ten. "Fine." Then, hugging the wall, he clomped onto the ice and did the exact same thing as Harry except he went all the way down.

"Motherfucking shit," he muttered, loud enough for a woman holding the hand of a young boy to hear. She gave him a nasty look. "What?" he said. The woman just turned and steered the boy in the opposite direction.

Harry had to laugh. "Wow."

Inch by inch, Draco pulled himself up. "It's not my fault she's immature about words."

Harry would have pointed out that she was probably more worried about the kid repeating the swear words, but he was too focused on not falling flat on his face even while holding onto the wall.

Silently, they started walking around the rink, and Harry even managed to stand up straight at the third wall, but on the way back around, he accidentally tapped Draco on the back, and he actually screamed, causing Harry to fall down backwards, startled. "Don't touch me, I'll collapse."

Harry groaned from his place flat on his back. "What, your private tutors didn't cover skating in little wizard prince school?"

"Oddly, my athletic education was rather centralized on the one sport," Draco bit out.

Harry dragged himself back up, and they continued on. Watching all the little kids glide effortlessly (and some not so effortlessly) Harry couldn't help but feel a bit pathetic. They probably looked like the kids from Teddy's peewee quidditch team.

A few laps and some minor falls later, they decided they were done skating for the day and made it back to the bench.

"Well, that was embarrassing," Draco said. He looked far more steady in his old leather boots thankfully.

"At least none of our friends saw it," Harry replied. He was very happy to be back on the sidewalk to their house, though he did have a good time. "Hey, do you wanna go in the backyard with the brooms to try and regain some dignity?"

"That sounds amazing, but first, you need this." Harry watched confused as Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a strip of fabric - no, a scarf, scarlet and gold.

Harry looked at him in amazement. "Is that what took you so long earlier?"

Draco laughed. "Yes, why do you keep it in your sock drawer?"

"Where else would I put it?" When he reached out to take the garment, Draco yanked it back.

"Somewhere reasonable," he said.

"Yeah? Like where?"

"Like here." He threaded the scarf around Harry's neck, and Harry let Draco pull him into the house, grinning the whole way. 

[rainymeadows]

Just had a thought while looking at that puzzle scene where The Professor and Luke slip across the ice to Antons castle.

Imagine a Laywright ice skating date where Hershel actually has a hard time and Phoenix has to help him.

Just… think about it. 😏

Oh, I am thinking about it.

Phoenix notes Hershel's anxiety as they near the rink, but he assume it's just because it's been a while since they were out together. It isn't until they have the skates on - and Hershel is wobbling like a newborn deer - that Phoenix starts to realise what a bad idea this might turn out to be.

It's a synthetic rink, which are always harder to skate on, but Phoenix manages to keep his balance just fine, strangely enough. The usually dexterous Hershel clings to the railing at the side, staring at the slippery plastic and at his own feet. He states that if these were bladed skates on real ice, he wouldn't have any issues, but these flat 'blades' feel as though they could slip out from under him any second.

He takes Phoenix's hand and they set off across the 'ice' with Phoenix happy and stable while Hershel totters like a spinning top and flails his arm to stay upright. Somehow they make it across the width of the rink and back like this. Struggling not to laugh, Phoenix tries to show him the ropes. Imagine you're walking backwards, he says. Don't step down on the ice. Slide your feet forwards. Hershel thinks of all the times he's had to sneak past his childrens' bedrooms during the night because he stayed up late and needs a drink, and slid his feet across the floor for minimal sound.

It works… for a while. Hershel manages to make it about nine, maybe ten metres before he loses his balance on these thin strips of metal. His foot is jerked sideways and he hits the ground hard, and Phoenix rushes to his side as he groans in pain. Apologising all the way, Phoenix ushers him off the rink and requests a first aid kit for his boyfriend's very clearly sprained ankle.

Things get even more awkward when they remember it was Hershel who drove them there.

So after they leave, Phoenix tries driving the car. They stick to backstreets where they can go slowly and Hershel carefully guides him the whole way, and once they get home, Phoenix gently carries Hershel inside. Hershel notes that they really ought to be wearing certain jewellery if Phoenix is going to carry him across the threshold, and as an apology for getting him hurt, Phoenix lets Hershel choose what take-out they get for dinner.

After food, a fresh ice pack and a healthy dose of painkillers, they fall asleep on the sofa watching old English sitcoms.

[rinksystems]

Both synthetic ice skating rinks and plastic ice skating rinks have their advantages and disadvantages. The choice ultimately depends on your needs, budget, and location. Read More

[taanoir]

Nicole came out to see her dad, Ken had passed away suddenly from a heart attack several months ago. This had been her first trip since he passed.

She kept the conversation away from his health. Not that she didn't care, the thought of loosing her father again was terrifying. In the wake of burying her husband after a heart attack, it was too much. She knew Jen, Tiff and Grandpa Gene had those bases covered for her dad. It was more important to spend quality time while she could.

She made jokes and poked at him about the dust in his art studio.

He told her about Melody she had entered several writing competitions. "So far she's won two, the rest she hasn't placed but I just keep encouraging her to enter. She's had a few pieces published, which is great."

Nicole asked how River was doing with Computer Team? "He's doing great! His team is going to the state finals. He focuses more on robotics but he's also been helping Josh build that new rocket. After seeing your dad so focused on that old one, Gene and I weren't sure about them building a second one. It's been a very different project than with Jimmy. They work on it on the weekends. Sometimes Josh or River will tinker on components in the lab through the week but for the most part it's just weekends and they only work together. Honestly, I'm happy for it."

Nicole was glad the kids were doing well. Her three were getting big as well, her oldest, Pierre, was graduated and at Britechester on a soccer scholarship. Kole was on the High School debate team and still a social butterfly. "He reminds me of Tiff when she was in High School. He's never met a stranger and gets along with everyone but Pierre." she laughed.

Uncle Gene came and sat with them. "How's the littlest one?"

Nicole smiled "Kendrick is doing good, he's in 4th grade now. He's still figuring out his interests. His older brother's kind of had their interests figured out, Kenny bounces around. That one has a temper though, I'm not sure where it came from."

Gene chuckled, "that's a mystery wrapped in an enigma."

Nicole feigned offense, "surely, I don't know what you're talking about."

They had a good laugh.

Jen joined them as they were talking about the new series on LamaLama TV. Nicole had watched the first episode but wasn't really invested just yet. Gene assured her she should watch episode two, it would all make sense.

Jen poked at Nicole a bit to break the silence that had filled the room.

Jen smiled, awkwardly trying to reignite the conversation, "How are you? Are you still working in programing, you don't mention your career these days?"

Nicole could tell Jen was trying to keep things normal "Actually, I am. I took some time off when the boys were young but once they all started school I went back to work. I'm a lead programmer for Evergreen Tech, we are working on a desalination system for the harbor. How about you Jen? Still working with the bots?"

"I am, were doing more and more with them every day. I can talk a little about my project this time, it's private sector. I'm working on improving prosthetic joints to move more naturally with less impact or stress to the individual. We have a full leg prototype system that uses a combination or robotics, hydraulics and a new synthetic. So far we've proven it can walk, run and navigate stairs with natural movement. We'd like it to be able to get up and down on it's knees, dance, ice skate, it's still experimental but promising. The goal is to be able to mimic skeletal movement without creating additional issues. We're also working on ways to use the electrical signals and motion in the body as a power source. Some older models are able to accomplish natural motion for walking, running and stairs but require charging, we'd like to improve the tech for a better experience."

Nicole was impressed and a tiny bit jealous, Jen always worked on the coolest projects.

[nerdraging4point0]

Power Play // Chapter Four // Hockeyplayer!Noah AU

Tropes and tags: RPF:AU hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV. 

Content Warning: angsty romance, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, smutty, aggressive hockey players, PinV, MF relationship, possessive male, protective male.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

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Two days. Forty-eight hours. That's all I get to train before they toss me headfirst into the role of head athletic nurse. Just a couple days shadowing Naomi and then - bam! - she's gone on early maternity leave. And if that's not enough, I can't find a single affordable apartment in this insane city. I was so determined to make it on my own, but after 24 fruitless hours of searching, Dad insisted I take an apartment in the complex where the hockey players live. Move in ready next week, free rent, close to the rink. I should be grateful, right? I mean, it gets me out of Dad's place at least. But now it's game day and I'm nowhere near ready. My head's spinning and my stomach's in knots. I have no idea what I've gotten myself into. This is way too much way too fast. Breathe, girl. Just breathe. You've got this. 

My heart pounds as I frantically take stock of my supplies. Tape, ice packs, ace bandages - check. It's not that I don't know how to treat injuries. As a nurse, wounds and fractures are second nature. But this - this is new territory. I didn't sign up for the intensity of trauma care on the sidelines. My expertise is in orthopedics, urology, neurology - slower paced clinic work. Not split second emergency response.

I sit on the sidelines watching warmups, taking in the sights and sounds of the rink. There's a smattering of early bird fans already in the stands, but more are still filing in, arms loaded with popcorn and hot dogs. The boys glide and weave across the ice, firing pucks into the gaping net, muscles coiled as they launch themselves into sharp turns.

McClain and Sanders emerge from the tunnel, bundled in pads and skates. They ease towards the goal, McClain positioning himself between the posts while Sanders hangs back, stick resting casually on his shoulder. The other players start peppering McClain with shots - his glove flashes out, quick as a cat's paw, snagging the pucks from the air. He drops into a butterfly, legs splaying wide to kick away rebounds. I can't take my eyes off him, enthralled by his reflexes and fearless focus. 

My stomach is in knots as the warmups wind down. One by one, the players skate over to tap fists with Coach and Jack before heading off the ice. Sanders, Dominick, McClain, Ruffilo - they all make sure to bump fists with me too. I force myself to take some deep breaths as the opening ceremonies begin. I watch anxiously as the puck drops for the first faceoff. The boys look sharp, moving the puck around cleanly, getting some good chances early. My nerves start to settle just a bit seeing them come out strong in these crucial opening minutes. But I'm still on the edge of my seat, ready to jump into action at a moment's notice.

I've got my eyes glued to the ice as the Avalanche roar down the rink with the puck, making a beeline for McClain's net. Sebastian bursts forward, moving in to intercept. Sticks clash and sparks fly as he battles for possession. With a mighty swing, he breaks free and shovels the puck away. But his opponent doesn't take kindly to being shaken off. As Sebastian streaks up the ice, the guy charges after him and slams their bodies together, crushing them both against the boards. The glass shudders from the hit - you can feel the aggression pulsating through the arena. 

My eyes are glued to Sebastian as he shakes off that nasty hit. The guy is seeing red, flexing out the arm that just got plastered into the boards. He's back in position now, still fuming, and drives hard to defend the net again. A few more plays and another try for a score but McClain is quick as ever and snags the puck. Sebastian eases up to circle back, but that same goon swoops in and crunches him into the wall again. Suddenly it's mayhem - helmets flying, sticks tossed, bare fists grabbing jerseys, going for faces. The refs dive in to break it all up. My heart's pounding as I take it all in. This game just got heated.

As the whistle blows, Coach bellows for Sebastian to hit the bench and sends in Dominick. My stomach drops. Sebastian's face is as red as his jersey as he skates over, and I shuffle closer, dreading what I'll see. His lip is swollen and split open, a trail of blood oozing down his chin. Coach grabs Sebastian's cheeks and gives him a stern once-over before nodding my way. Our eyes meet briefly before Sebastian clambers over the boards on wobbly skates, weighed down by pads and gear. 

My heart races as I rummage through my bag for the gauze and antiseptic. I gently dab the wet gauze on his rugged, battered face, taking care not to hurt him. He winces ever so slightly, pulling back as I tenderly clean the gash on his lip.

"This will need some ice," I murmur, transfixed by his mouth. The wound isn't deep, but it would still hurt if I tried to kiss it. Stop it, Sarah. 

"I could just lay on the rink, would that help?" he jokes, flashing me a roguish grin.

I can't help but smile, lost in his sparkling eyes. Even bruised from the game, he makes my stomach do somersaults. As I gently dab the last of the blood from his rugged face, I ask for his hands.

He turns them palm down, rough and shaking. I trace my fingers over the tattoos marking his skin, checking for any hidden injuries. Through my gentle touch, I feel his warmth, his strength. Our eyes meet and my heart flutters. I take his hand in both of mine, lightly pressing each knuckle, thrilled by his closeness. He doesn't flinch. If he's in pain, he doesn't show it. Or maybe it's just the adrenaline. 

"Looks good," I say, my eyes lingering a little too long on his handsome face. "Nothing too badly damaged."

He smiles, though it turns into a wince as the wounded side of his lip curves up. "Just my pride," he replies ruefully.

"Ah, pride," I tut, leaning in conspiratorially. "A tricky thing to find once lost. But if I happen to stumble over yours rolling around, I'll be sure to scoop it up and return it to its rightful owner." I give him a playful wink, unable to keep from flirting. Even banged up, he's cute as hell.

NOAH'S POV

As I hop over the boards and back onto the ice, my legs feel a little shaky. I skate slowly back to position,  my head still spinning. Man, her smile just melts me every time. So sly and sexy. And that hair... She's such a little fox. I can't stop thinking about her. I've got it bad for this girl. Focus, dude! Gotta keep my head in the game. The way her black and red scrubs hug those round curves of hers. Alright, deep breaths. Back to the action. 

I'm back defending our goal after that goon got himself tossed for busting my lip. The blood's dripping down my chin but I've got no time to worry about that. We're up 4-2 with the clock winding down. Karlsson and me, we go together like peanut butter and jelly defending our net. A winger tries to blow past me but I plant him into the boards. I knock the puck loose and pass it off to Karlsson but their center snags it. I shake off the winger clinging to me and slide across the crease to rob the center's shot. I scoop up the puck and send it flying down the ice. I'm throwing hits left and right, keeping their forwards outside our zone. The final horn blares and we've done it again - chalk up another W. My jersey's soaked with sweat but the pain doesn't matter.

I'm beat as we drag our battered bodies back to the locker room. My muscles are screamin' under these pads after the torture session on the ice. That bone-crunchin' check into the boards left my shoulder throbbing with a deep bruise. I grunt and roll my arm, trying to shake out the pain.

The locker room erupts when we stumble in. The boys are hootin' and hollerin', dancing around half-naked and drenched in sweat. I toss my stick and lid in my stall and collapse on the bench, rip off my gloves and gingerly touch my busted lip. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth as I wince. 

I peel off my jersey, wincing as the sweaty fabric sticks to my skin. The pads come next, and I sigh in relief as my shoulders are freed from their restrictive embrace. The locker room falls silent as all eyes turn to me. I run a hand through my damp hair, pushing it back from my forehead.

As I sit on the bench, spent from the game, a shadow falls over me. I glance up to see Little Fox standing there, ice pack in hand, trademark smirk on her lips. She holds out the bag, ice cracking inside, and I take it slowly, letting my fingers brush hers. Her eyes trace over my bare chest and I see her throat tighten as she swallows hard. She wants me. My teammates watch us, eager for the show.

I stand tall in front of her, watching those dark eyes go wide. Her lips part slightly as she takes me in. "F-for your face," she stammers, pressing the ice into my hands before slipping away, a new bounce in her step. I grin as she goes. 

Game on, Little Fox.

We roll into Sully's still riding high after crushing Washington 4-zip on the ice tonight. 

That game was a brawl, I'm still aching all over. But hey, at least my mug is still pretty this time. The split lip from the last match is finally scabbing up enough that I can wolf down a burger without wincing. The shiner's faded and I clean up alright for a night out. The boys and I threw on our nicest threads, my black slacks and a soft navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off the ink running up my arms.

The second I open the door, this total dive hits me with that sweet stench of stale beer and chicken wings. Road signs and hilarious bar quotes plaster the walls from floor to ceiling. Three monster TVs behind the bar blast sports on full volume - college ball, NFL, and of course our boys lighting up the NHL highlights.

With the game pumping through the speakers and the home team plastered on every screen, Sully's is our scene tonight. Loud, messy, no pretensions - just how we like it after a big win.

We snag the biggest table in the joint and start pounding 'em back, one after another. The energy is through the roof thanks to that W. Jolly's already facedown in his third pint, trying to sweet talk the waitress in his sloppy Swedish. The swedish isn’t working but the way he is batting his eyes at her and has her laughing tells me she is into him. 

Sanchez is working his magic on a couple hockey bunnies in the corner, likely wanting to take both of them back to the hotel with him. Meanwhile, Nick and Andy are talking trash and seeing who can balance more empty bottles on their domes. As for me? I'm just taking it all in, boys - the brews, the brotherhood, that sweet taste of victory. 

"Check it out, McClain," Nick says, words running together as he balances a third bottle on his head, swaying to keep it steady. "It's all about that balance, bro."

Andy scoffs, clutching his six shot glasses in one hand and snatching one of Nick's to perch on his middle finger. "Balance? I'll show you balance, you little punk," he slurs back. 

The dim lights of this hole-in-the-wall bar make it tough to see much of anything. Shadows dance across dark wood as my eyes adjust. The dance floor packed tight with bodies grinding up against each other to the pulsing beat. Through the mass of writhing shapes, I catch a glimpse of foxtail curls swaying in time with the music. She's gorgeous, sipping a cocktail through a black straw, full lips wrapped around it. Hips swaying hypnotically in that little red dress that hugs every curve. She laughs, head thrown back in delight, and her friend with the messy bun joins in. 

I'm transfixed as I watch her move across the dance floor. The sway of her hips and bounce of her curls has me hypnotized. I down my drink in one gulp, no longer interested in anything else tonight. Pushing through the crowded club, I keep my eyes locked on her - my prize. A few eager ladies try to divert my attention but I'm relentless, driven by desire. I have to feel her body against mine.

Finally reaching her, I slide my hand across the curve of her hip, fingertips digging into the silky fabric of her dress. Pulling her into me, I bring my lips to her ear and growl, "Dance with me, beautiful." 

The bass is pulsing through my body as I sway my hips to the beat. Me and my bestie Marissa hit up Sully's after the Kraken game for some much needed drinks and dancing. She looks bangin' in her tight black dress, fending off guys left and right. "Not worth your time, honey!" she says with a flip of her hair.

I laugh but I'm feeling that itch, you know? It's been too damn long since I've felt those hands on me, those lips on my neck. I wore this sexy red number hoping to lure in a hookup, but with Marissa running cockblock patrol, doesn't look like that's happening tonight.

Then, I feel it. Strong hands grasp my hips from behind and pull me back against a hard chest. Mmm I can't help but melt into him as we sway together. Now this is exactly what I needed after that hockey game. Looks like Marissa can't stop me from having a little fun tonight after all.

"Dance with me, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry against my ear. I feel the rumble of it through his chest pressed against my back, sending a shiver down my spine. His hands slide around my waist, pulling me closer as we sway to the music. I'm intoxicated by his presence, melting into his embrace. Our bodies move as one, passion smoldering between us. His breath hot on my neck, his touch electric. This dance is full of promise, an invitation to something more.

I'm swaying to the beat, drink in hand, when Marissa leans in close so I can hear her over the pounding music. "I want details," she says, planting a kiss on my cheek and taking the drink from my hand before disappearing into the crowd.

I close my eyes again, letting this mystery man's hands roam as we move together. When I finally open them, I do a double take - it's Noah! Those intense brown eyes boring into mine with that look of determination he gets on the ice.

His strong hands grip my hips, pulling me flush against him. I know I shouldn’t give in, but the heat radiating from his body thaws my resolve. If Daddy found out his little girl was messing around with a player, he’d blow his whistle for sure. Not that his rules have ever stopped me before. That goalie with the dreamy eyes almost made me forget curfew back in high school. But getting caught now might mean so much more than grounded from prom. Still, a girl’s got needs. And this player’s touch tells me he knows exactly how to satisfy them. 

"What's the matter, little fox?" His words are a sensual purr that makes my knees weak. The heady scent of beer, whiskey and woodsy cologne intoxicates me. I'm helpless against him, my body craving his touch despite the risk. My breath catches as his lips graze my neck.