#whitecaps i miss u

[babygirlspurgeon]

how quick i went from "you have a perfectly good team name right there" to "no you don't get to touch that!!!! not for you!!!!!" should be studied

[hottpinkpenguin]

The Power of Water - 3/4

Matchup: Druig (Eternals) x Fem!Eternals Reader w/ water powers (name Adva, Hebrew for small wave)

Continue reading: Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter IV

Warnings: violence, (mild) implied sex, Eternals spoilers

Chapter III: 2018

Horseshoe Island - about 25 miles southeast of Yellowknife

Northwest Territories, Canada

Adva awoke to the sound of wind sowing through the pine trees, the cold water of the lake lapping lazily at the rocky shore outside the window of her cabin. She stretched, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, and stood up, wrapping the thick winter blanket around her shoulders. The fire in the small, one-room cabin’s fireplace had died out overnight, but a few glowing embers remained. She shuffled over, adding a few logs to the grate and poking at the embers, willing the embers to catch the logs. It was cold days like this that she rued her decision to settle in northern Canada, where the power to control fire would be more advantageous than controlling water.

She busied herself making coffee on the stove, the slowly catching logs in the fireplace slowly beginning to warm the cabin once more. She glanced out of the window above the sink. It was a clear day, and she could see small whitecaps glazing the surface of the lake. The season was beginning to turn definitively towards winter. Adva had come to love the solitude of her life in this quiet piece of Earth. Like all of her fellow Eternals, she’d been forced to move every few years to a new place, lest she arouse the suspicions of the locals as they aged while she stayed unchanged. So far, of all the homes she’d had, she felt the most at peace here. Maybe it was because of the abundance of water in every direction - lakes, streams, ponds, rivers, ravines, and snow in the wintertime - but she also loved how wild and untamed this country was. Humans had managed to carve out their pockets of civilization here, but the press of the wild was everywhere, and it made Adva feel free. It plugged up the gaping hole she’d had in her heart since that day in Tenochtitlan, thousands of years ago…

With a disgruntled shake of her head, she extinguished the painful memories threatening to claw their way into her mind, returning her focus to the task of readying for the day. She’d begun teaching biology at a local high school in Yellowknife almost six years ago, and today was their exam on the carbon cycle. She couldn’t afford to get distracted and be late.

After dressing in a simple pair of black slacks and a warm, gray turtleneck, she tossed on her winter peacoat. Although Eternals didn’t feel the warmth or cold the way humans did, blending in was important, and it had become an automatic calculation in Adva’s mind to calibrate her own style of dress to match those around her. She grabbed her work bag, slinging it over her shoulder, and the thermos of coffee (a human delight she had quickly grown fond of) and made her way to the small rowboat tied up to the rickety dock in front of her cabin. Although it would have taken a human over an hour to paddle to Yellowknife - perhaps slightly less time with a motor - Adva used her powers to have the water pull her smoothly across its surface. One of the benefits of living in a relatively isolated part of the world was that she could take liberties with using her powers without the threat of being spotted.

Less than ten minutes later, Adva walked into the halls of the high school. It was an old building, three stories tall with a grand, stone staircase flanked by pillars out front. She found the facade rather arresting, although something about the stone steps was unsettling. For the second time that day, she pushed down the memories of a night in her distant past. The smell of smoke, the sound of gunshots…

Adva registered that the hallways were unusually quiet. A few students milled around outside their lockers. Adva quickly became worried that perhaps she had missed the first period bell, although her watch indicated otherwise. She picked up the speed of her steps as she ascended to the second floor, where the science classrooms were housed. If she’d been more observant, she would have noticed the shell-shocked expressions on the students’ faces, but she was already distracted, planning her entrance into the classroom so as to give her students a suitable excuse for her tardiness.

It wasn’t until she had begun handing out the exams that she noticed something amiss. The classroom that she had expected to see full of students wearing anxious expressions at the prospect of an exam was barely half full. The students that were there ignored her entrance entirely, their heads bowed together in frenzied conversation or staring vacantly at their phones.

“What’s going on?” she asked. One of her students, Bineshii (who everyone knew as Benni), looked up at her with disbelief.

“Ms. L’Onde,” (the name Adva had given on her job application years ago, the french word for wave), “you haven’t heard?” Adva returned his expression, each equally dumbfounded: he at her ignorance, her at his implication.

“No, Benni, I haven’t. What happened?” Adva began to pick up on the tension in the room. Had there been an accident at the paper mill? A shooting? Adva’s mind hurriedly ticked through the possibilities.

“A bunch of people have gone missing,” another one of her students, Marie, chimed in.

Adva’s brow furrowed. Missing? How?

“What do you mean, missing?” she pressed.

“Just look, Ms. L’Onde.” Benni handed her his phone, a news article from the BBC pulled up with the headline BILLIONS LOST IN INSTANT: WHAT WE KNOW SO FAR. Across the bottom of his screen, a ticker tape ran a dizzying string of updates

LIVES LOST APPEAR CONNECTED TO DISTURBANCE IN WAKANDA

AVENGERS CLAIM “THE SNAP” THE ACT OF TITAN THANOS

FRENCH PRIME MINISTER MISSING, FEARED LOST

ACROSS THE WORLD, DISAPPEARANCES CAUSE PLANE CRASHES, MASS CHAOS

ECONOMIC COLLAPSE FEARED IN MOST MARKETS BY END OF WEEK

T’CHALLA, KING OF WAKANDA, AMONG THE MISSING

GOVERNMENTS SCRAMBLE TO BEGIN COMPILING LIST OF LOST CITIZENS

Adva felt the breath suck out of her lungs. She fell back into her chair, her jaw slack as she raced to process what she was reading. She felt immobilized, completely disjointed from any sense of what to do next.

“Miss? Miss L’Onde?” Benni’s voice brought her back to the moment as if clearing her head above water just before drowning.

Unsure of what to say, Adva’s mouth opened and closed futilely a few times. She handed the phone back to Benni’s outstretched hand.

“What do we do?” Marie asked. A hush fell over the room as many of the students turned to look at her, fear and confusion in their eyes. Adva felt a surge of protectiveness overtake her; she had to do something, anything to comfort these people, these young minds who she’d come to know and love in the past few months. She swallowed, willing her voice to be steady.

“Exam’s canceled today, everyone. Let’s go ahead and turn our phones off for the block. We’re just going to sit together for a while.” It was all she could think of. Adva saw her students respond to the false note of confidence in her voice as they nodded in agreement, feeling comforted by having some sort of concrete direction. As they began to switch off their cellphones, Adva walked out from behind her desk, settling into a desk in the center of the room. Many of her students repositioned themselves to face her, a few choosing new seats closer to the center of the room. She grabbed Marie’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

‘Arishem, Ajack, if you’re listening, be with me now’, she thought, sending a prayer for fortitude and calm into the universe. Adva took a deep breath, steadying herself, before she started to speak what she hoped were comforting words to her students…

It wasn’t until she had returned home that night - long after dark, much later than usual - that Adva allowed her composure to slip and her mind began to grapple with what she had learned that day. Truth be told, she didn’t feel any more certain of the future than she had at that moment when she’d first seen the breaking news story on Benni’s phone. One thing was for certain, though. She knew what she had to do next.

As much as it pained her to think of leaving her students and the place she’d come to call home, Adva knew she couldn’t stay in Canada for an instant longer. She had to find the others, the Eternals. Ajack, Sersi, Ikaris, Thena…

Druig.

The last memory she had of him, his back sinking down the steps of the temple at Tenochtitlan, his face framed by hazy, smoked-out sunlight seared into the back of her mind as she hastily began packing the large rucksack she kept stowed under her bed. Many questions about what was quickly becoming referred to as “the Snap” had been answered by the rapid outpouring of news over the course of the day, but Adva hadn’t gotten the answer to the question she needed. She knew humans - Avengers included - and all of the flora and fauna of Earth had been affected by the titan Thanos’ act, but did that include the Eternals?

Adva felt bile rising in her throat as panic seized her. What if that thousand year old memory of Druig was the last time she’d ever see him? Adva tried to steady her trembling hands but was unsuccessful at tamping down the jittery fear that ripped through her heart as she contemplated the very real possibility that he was gone.

That was why she needed to leave, now. She couldn’t wait any longer for Druig to make good on his promise to find her. She would find him, and she didn’t care how long it took or how far she had to search.

*****

“Adva!” Sersi wrapped her arms around Adva’s shoulders, the two sharing a strong, rib-crushing embrace. It had been almost two hundred years since Adva had last seen her friend. For an Eternal, this was a relatively short separation, but in the shadow of last month’s Snap, it felt like an eternity and a half.

It had taken Adva a long time to track Sersi down. Despite their shared friendship for one another, they were not in regular contact. Adva’s efforts had been hindered by the desperate search happening all over the world as the remaining humans clung to the (often false) hope that they would find their lost family, friends, and lovers in the chaotic aftermath of the Snap. When Adva had finally found Sersi in a small, quiet countryside town outside London, she’d felt a surge of renewed hope. For a few agonizing weeks, Adva had feared that her search for Sersi would prove as futile as many of the humans’ searches for their own lost ones.

“I was worried-”

“I know,” Sersi replied, the tone of relief in her voice confirming that she, like Adva, had feared the worst.

“The others? Have you seen them?” Adva asked as Sersi led her into the doorway of her flat. Sersi nodded.

“A few. Ajack came and found me a few days after it all happened. She was trying to get in touch with all of us.”

Adva nodded; Ajack had found her too, just a week or so prior. Adva had asked Ajack if she’d seen Druig, but Ajack had said no. Ajack was convinced that Druig didn’t want to be found, and after so many millennia of independence from the rest of the group, Ajack had delivered Adva the sobering news that she truthfully didn’t know how to find him.

Adva had held out hope that her friend Sersi could offer some hope on that account.

“She found me too,” Adva answered. “So far, she said none of us were gone.” When Adva’s paths had crossed with Ajack, the Eternals’ leader had gotten in contact with Sersi, Phastos, Kingo, and Sprite, and she was on her way to rendezvous with Thena and Gilgamesh. Makkari, Ikaris, and Druig were the last on her list, and they would undoubtedly prove the most difficult to track down.

Sersi led Adva into a comfortable sitting room. The two sat on a well-worn couch. Adva surveyed the room, taking note of a few pictures of Sersi with her arms wrapped around a human male’s neck, smiling beatifically at the camera. The man’s eyes were large, dark, and kind. Adva smiled internally, glad that her friend seemed to have found a way forward after losing her heart to Ikaris thousands of years ago.

“Sers, have you heard from Makkari?” Adva asked. As much as she longed to rest and recharge with her friend, the pressing need to find Druig made that a luxury she couldn’t afford.

“Not in a long time,” Sersi admitted, taking note of her friend’s crestfallen expression. Sersi knew that finding Druig would be easiest with Makkari’s help, as there was little doubt that they were in contact with one another, although Makkari had always staunchly denied this. Druig and Makkari - of all the Eternals - were a two-for-one deal; their friendship had been instantaneous and enduring. Although Makkari had never formally announced her support of Druig’s separation from Ajack, she had noticeably distanced herself from the others in the thousands of years following Tenochtitlan, not unlike Adva.

“You may not need to go through Makkari,” Sersi continued, reaching over to grab Adva’s hand. “I’ve been trying to help Ajack find the rest of us, and I stumbled across something interesting. In the Amazon.” Adva felt a twinge of hope. She knew Druig had always preferred warmer climates - whereas she preferred the cold. The Amazon sounded like a place he’d enjoy.

“According to some of the local guides who take tourists on trips into the jungle, there’s a village pretty deep into the forest. They’ve mentioned that the village is notable for the villager’s golden eyes.” Adva’s heart leapt into her throat. Could it really be?

“Show me,” Adva asked, sidling over next to her friend. Sersi pulled up a webpage on her iPad, earning a small chuckle from Adva as he saw the man with the dark, kind eyes in the wallpaper of the tablet. Sersi reddened ever so slightly but didn’t falter. Deftly, she called up a tab on the browser that she’d bookmarked. It was an article from the Rio Times published in May of 2007. Adva’s Portguese wasn’t great, but she knew enough to make out the article title: Local guides warn of village with gold eyed residents: Angels, demons or something else?

According to the article, the village was easiest accessed from Belém in Brazil. Adva hadn’t heard of it before, but she drank in the name greedily. That was her destination.

Sersi locked the screen on her tablet, placing it back on the stack of books on the coffee table in front of them.

“How long will you stay?” she asked Adva, knowing her friend’s mind was already lurching forward to her departure for Belém.

Adva shook her head, knowing her refusal would hurt Sersi, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax unless she was running down the trail of clues to Druig.

Sersi nodded, unsurprised but a bit rebuffed nonetheless.

“I’ll come back,” Adva insisted, squeezing her friend’s hand. “Once I find him, I promise.” Adva meant what she said; after she was reunited with Druig, she’d go anywhere, do anything. But nothing could move her from this path now.

Sersi smiled kindly at her friend. “I know you will, Salacia,” she replied, using the name a civilization history knew as the Romans had given Adva thousands of years ago. It had become a favorite of Sersi’s, and she’d used it as a pet name for her friend ever since. Adva quirked a smile back, grateful for her friend’s kindness and understanding.

“Here, at least have some tea before I take you to the beach,” Sersi insisted. She knew Adva wouldn’t settle for the slower but less conspicuous option of air travel when her need was so pressing. And she was right; Adva had no intention of booking a plane ticket to Brazil. She would use her powers to skim the surface of the ocean from the coast of England to Brazil, opting to travel under ample cloud cover if she could find and make landfall under cover of darkness. She’d have to take her chances on being seen. Thankfully, the appearance of the Avengers a few decades prior had made the Eternals’ secrecy from humans slightly less critical, although it was still not prudent to risk full exposure.

Adva nodded gratefully as Sersi placed a warm mug in her hands. She breathed in the smell of green tea with a bit of honey and ginger, just like the Babylonians had made. It had always been Adva’s favorite. Her friend’s attention to detail never disappointed.

“What will you do when you find him?” Sersi asked curiously. The question brought Adva up short. In truth, she wasn’t entirely sure. She hadn’t allowed herself to ponder this too much in the millennia since she and Druig had parted ways, it was too painful. She’d always assumed that Druig would be the one to find her, in many ways removing the burden of deciding how and when to reunite off of her shoulders. But now that she was the one doing the finding - a fact she acknowledged with a twinge of hurt that it had come to this - she realized it was incumbent on her to find the words to bridge the distance that thousands of years was bound to place between them.

“I honestly don’t know,” Adva replied. “I hadn’t considered it.” Admitting that aloud felt foolish, but Adva didn’t want to be anything other than honest with her friend.

“I’m sure it’ll come to you,” Sersi assured her, although she herself felt a twinge of worry for her friend. Reuniting after so long apart was bound to have some complex feelings, and even more so after the Snap. Sersi had never been close to Druig, but she knew him enough to know that he had a mercurial heart and was prone to moodiness. Adva’s generally even-keeled and amiable disposition was a perfect match for him, but she could see the strain of urgency all over her friend’s face.

“I suppose we’ll see,” Adva replied, taking a sip of her tea. “How are the others, have you heard from them?” She was eager to change the subject.

“Sprite’s close,” Sersi told her. Adva wasn’t surprised; even though Sprite was just as old as the rest of them, her form was that of a younger human, and she’d always had an easier time living with one of the other Eternals. It made humans suspicious to see her living independently. Sersi, of all the Eternals, was the one Sprite gravitated to the most, especially in the absence of Ikaris’ returned affections. Adva had always pitied Sprite for her young form and her unrequited affection for Ikaris.

“Thena’s with Gilgamesh, he says her mahd wy’ry hasn’t changed much,” Sersi continued. Adva shuddered slightly at the memory of Thena’s ghostly white eyes, the weight of thousands of years of memories overtaking her sanity.

“Good, that’s good,” Adva replied, absentmindedly, still absorbed in her memories.

“I haven’t heard from Phastos or Kingo in a long time. Ajack said they’re both doing well. Seems that Phastos is living as a human now.” Adva raised her eyebrows, somewhat surprised at the meaning of Sersi’s statement. All of the Eternals lived passively next to humans; they resembled the Earth dwellers closely and went to lengths to hide their powers whenever possible so as to avoid suspicion (or worse, violence). But living as a human had become a colloquial expression amongst them that meant not using your powers. Adva had tried, several times, to go without her powers but had never been successful. She felt incomplete without them, and she had ultimately come to the decision that Eternals weren’t meant to live without their powers. They weren’t human, after all, and to pretend otherwise felt dangerously misguided.

“And Ikaris…?” Adva ventured cautiously, gauging her friend’s reaction closely. She detected a distinct glaze come over Sersi’s eyes at the mention of Ikaris, her former lover. Adva had never heard the full story from Sersi as to why her and Ikaris had grown apart and separated, but she knew it caused Sersi pain. Even though Sersi had made a life with the handsome dark-eyed human.

Sersi only shook her head, chewing her lip, her eyes a million miles away as she retreated into her innermost thoughts. Adva let silence fall between them, content to sip her tea in silence and focus on her own musings.

As sunset approached, Sersi stood up, placing her mug on the coffee table. “Well, you should be getting going,” she announced. Adva nodded, rising to her feet.

“Anywhere specific you want to go?” Sersi asked as she locked the door to her flat, making her way to the car parked in the drive.

“Anywhere with ocean will do,” Adva replied simply. Sersi smiled, turning the car on.

“Ramsgate is closest, I’ll take you there.”

The two friends spent the car ride in silence, happy just to enjoy each other’s company after an intensely dislocating few weeks. As they drove, Adva noticed several stretches of highway where the cars that had been left driverless in the Snap remained abandoned on the side of the road. It was ghostly and unsettling, and made her restless. She was happy when the smell of salt in the air pricked at her nostrils, a sign of the ocean’s closeness. Adva closed her eyes, allowing her mind to sink into the rhythmic pull of the ocean waves, inaudible to human ears from this distance, but easily recognizable to Adva, and familiar.

She stayed like that, in a meditative quiet, until Sersi turned the car off. The beach was directly in front of them, and the sea was a dark, greenish gray. Sunlight was fading rapidly from the sky, and out in the distance Adva could see storm clouds forming over the ocean. ‘Perfect traveling weather,’ she thought to herself, breathing a sigh of relief. Darkness was a helpful ally in concealing her, but darkness and cloud cover was ideal.

“Be careful, Adva,” Sersi intoned seriously, looking over at her friend. Adva nodded, meeting her friend’s concerned gaze.

“I will be, don’t worry Sers,” she replied, hoping to reassure the worry out of Sersi’s eyes.

They exited the car, and Sersi walked down onto the sandy beach with Adva. They were alone on the beach; very few humans found the beach as enticing during wintertime as in the heat of summer. Adva was grateful for the solitude. She pulled Sersi in for another tight hug.

“We’ll be back,” Adva reminded her. “I promise.”

Sersi nodded. “I know. Now go. You’ve waited long enough.”

Without another word, Adva turned and walked into the water, feeling it wrap around her legs. The rhythm of the tide echoed in her mind. Using her powers, her arms and wrists glowing gold with rippling rings, Adva called on the ocean and began to feel it pull her outwards, away from shore. Foam whipped around her ankles, but Adva stood as steadily as if on concrete. As she built up speed, the lights of Ramsgate and the English coast vanished in the distance behind her.

Sersi smiled as her friend’s silhouette vanished into the darkness of the stormy ocean. She sent a quiet, encouraging thought into the air after Adva’s retreating outline, willing her friend towards her final destination.

[finger-lakes-ghostbusters]

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN, DAMIEN'S MISSING?" The yell seemed to reverberate around the confines of the boathouse as Eva stared daggers at Matthew, her expression caught between anger and a feral kind of worry. "You were SUPPOSED to be keeping an eye on him while I got the spell!"

"I WAS, Eva! I literally only turned around for five seconds to make sure that the door on the shed was shut, and when I turned back around, he was gone! Like he....I don't know. Teleported or something!" Matthew exclaimed, wringing his hands together as he stood in the open doorway of Damien's office. "And I don't even have the slightest idea where he could have gone. I sure hope whatever's got its claws into him didn't decide to try and go after Rocket. Kid looked pretty exhausted after everything that happened. I don't think it's gonna be in much of a state to defend itself right now. I swear, though, I don't have any other--"

A thunderous CRACK of lightning cut into Matthew's speech, and as both Eva and Matthew instinctively jumped and turned to see where the sound had come from, the wind suddenly went from calm to a swirling hurricane-like force, battering the trees outside and whipping gigantic whitecaps up onto the lake's surface.

"....Were we supposed to get a storm today?"

"I don't. Think so?"

"I have a funny feeling about where Damien might have gone. And I don't think it's far. Get everybody else into equipment. As fast as you can. I get the feeling that that showdown with Zygna is finally coming. We'll need all the firepower we can get to take that bitch down, if what Damien said is any clue at all as to how tough she is."

As Matthew strode away to rally the troops, Eva grabbed the journal, flipping through until she arrived on the page with the old team's photograph. Running a hand wistfully over it, her expression hardened with resolve after a moment, spinning on her heel to stride towards the lab space where she knew that the tramp bombs and other incendiary devices were kept.

This bullshit ended now.

When the team finally arrived on the lakeshore, proton packs and uniforms donned and all necessary equipment at the ready, they were met with a truly horrifying sight. Rather than thoroughly destroyed as they thought the sigil had been, it was now fully constructed, with the frightening symbols that Eva had seen in the journal drawn on the rocks in a liquid that looked suspiciously similar to blood. His hands raised in what appeared to be mindless ecstasy, Damien stood in the center of the sigil, his eyes fully rolled back as his body swayed slowly from side to side. Even as the thunder cracked around him and the wind whipped at his outfit, even as the waves crashed onto the shore mere inches from his feet, he seemed to remain oblivious, speaking in a voice that somehow seemed to sound of waves crashing upon seaside cliffs, of glaciers calving in two, of a great beast surging up from under the water.

"THE ONCOMING STORM. THE LADY OF THE LAKE. THE ONE WHO WILL BRING HER CLEANSING WAVE TO SWEEP OVER HUMANITY AND CLEANSE IT OF ITS SINS, CLEANSE IT UNTIL THERE IS NOTHING LEFT. I SUMMON YOU. I ALLOW YOU PASSAGE INTO THIS WORLD. I BID YOU RETURN. I BID YOU RETURN. I BID YOU--"

"DAMIEN!" Eva screeched before she could fully stop herself, curly hair whipping in the wind as she approached. "Don't do this. Please, I know you can hear me. You snapped out of it when Rocket talked to you. I know you can do it again. Help us out. Let us get this thing out of you." As Damien seemed to falter, she extended one hand slowly, the way someone might approach a horse that was prone to bolting. "Come on. Don't do the creepy sigil thing and just let me--"

And then she was blown aside by a strange force, leaving the rest of the team to scramble to her side in an effort to determine her injuries as Damien's voice reached a new and furious octave.

"YOU WILL NOT STOP ME. MY LADY WILL COME. MY SINS WILL BE ABSOLVED. YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN STOP ME? LET US SEE HOW YOU FARE AGAINST THE FULL FORCE OF HER WRATH."

He turned back to the lake and raised his arms again, the thunder continuing to crack overhead as he chanted.

"I BID YOU RETURN. I BID YOU RETURN. I BID YOU RETURN. I GRANT YOU PASSAGE INTO THIS WORLD, SO THAT YOU MAY REMAKE IT IN YOUR IMAGE. SO THAT YOU MAY BRING THE FULL FORCE OF YOUR GLORY TO IT. I BID YOU RETURN. I--"

"STAY READY, GUYS!" Eva had to struggle to be heard above the wind, to raise her voice above the cracking of the thunder and the pounding of the waves. "THIS IS IT."

And as they all huddled together upon the lake shore, looking towards Damien with anger and sadness and fear--Damien raised his hands one last time, his voice now a pitch higher than any human could possibly achieve.

"ZYGNA! I SUMMON YOU!"

There was one last terrible crack of thunder, and then for a long moment there was silence. Stillness. And then Damien was screaming. No, not quite--it was a terrible, unholy combination of screaming and insane laughter that was coming from his mouth as his body started to violently convulse, as his bones started to crack and warp and shift, as his legs twisted together to form long sprawling coils and great fins burst from his back in a shower of blood and viscera and his very skin seemed to split open to accommodate new scales and coils, as his body suddenly heaved itself towards the sky---

Where there once was Damien, now there was only a great serpent, her multiple violently blue eyes narrowing and fins gently undulating along her back as she twisted to view the team with a cold kind of indifference. Opening her mouth to reveal teeth easily as long and thick as any tree trunk that had ever existed on the lake's shore, Zygna spoke in a voice that sounded like the crack of thunder, a sadistic smirk pinned to her face.

"WELL. SHALL WE PLAY A GAME, LITTLE ONES?"

(art courtesy of @goat-bones)

[lostmynovelties]

touch me and you’ll never be alone (1/?)

Pairing: Aaron Judge/Reader Rating: T (for now) A/N: This is an AU based on the fact the Aaron Judge played in the Cape Cod Baseball League in 2012 (on the same team as Michael Conforto, jsyk). It’s AU bc it’s set in present day bc I really didn’t want to have to dig up correct facts and figure out what kind of social media and lingo we were all using five years ago. Shout out 2 my wife @dominicsmiths for her edits and encouragement. All mistakes are hers. OK, enjoy.

After a long semester and what feels like an even longer flight you’re happy to be home. Your freshman year at Berkeley was great and California is amazing (you definitely didn’t miss Massachusetts’ annual three feet of snow in February), but nothing beats being back on The Cape.

You grab your extra large suitcase off of the baggage claim carousel and look around for your dad.

*Buzz* Your phone vibrates in your pocket. It’s a text from your dad.

hope you landed okay, pumpkin. sorry I had to take care of some emergency business at the restaurant but I sent aaron to pick you up. u can’t miss him.

Confused and a little disappointed, you look around baggage claim for whomever your mystery chauffeur could be and what your dad even means by that.

Of course you already know all about Aaron and how your parents decided to host a baseball player for the Brewster Whitecaps. Honestly, you’re not all that happy with the decision. Not that you have anything against baseball or college guys but it kind of feels like your parents are trying to fill an empty nest with a kid who isn’t Adam.

Adam – your brother –  just graduated from GW Law School and got a dream job working for the best firm in DC. You’re incredibly proud of him and knows he deserves everything he’s worked for but that doesn’t mean you won’t miss having him around. Who else is going to sneak you into the crappy bars in Ptown or set up the beach bonfire?

Truthfully the more you think about it the more it really pisses you off. Rationally you know that your parents would never and could never try to replace Adam but there’s still a small part of you that resents them for it.

You’re busy grumbling to yourself when you hear – “(Y/N)!”

You turn quickly to see him. He’s there, looming above all the other travelers, with a shy smile on his face.

Wow, you think to yourself. He’s tall, much taller than you were expecting even though your mom had mentioned it about two hundred times in the conversations you’ve had with her since Aaron arrived last week. He’s tall and as you walk over slowly you can see the smattering of freckles across his tanned complexion and his smile immediately makes you feel at ease. Mom didn’t mention that.

“Hi,” you say when you reach him. He’s holding a little sign with your name in what can only be described as chicken scratch and it’s incredibly endearing.

“Hi, I’m Aaron,” he says, reaching to shake your hand and take your bag.

You let him take your hand in his. It’s much much larger than yours and his grip is solid. His skin is tan and warm, if not a little rough with callouses earned on the field.

“I’m (Y/N),” you reply, your cheeks a little pink now.

Honestly, it’s very hard to not get caught up in how handsome this guy in front of you is but you’re peeved that you haven’t seen your parents in weeks and they couldn’t even find the time to drive to the airport.

“I know,” Aaron says with a toothy grin. “Your parents literally never stop talking about you. They’re very proud of you.”

You try not to roll your eyes too hard. “Yeah, they’re so proud they couldn’t even get me themselves,” you say a little too harshly and you feel guilty almost immediately. It’s not Aaron’s fault he’s caught in the middle of whatever this is.

You glance up at him. His head is ducked and he’s rubbing the back of his neck, clearly unsure of what to say.

“Sorry,” you say. “Let’s just go, okay?”

He nods and replies, “Let me at least take your bag.”

He looks a bit defeated now and so you oblige. “Thanks,” you say, handing him your suitcase.

You walk together in stilted silence towards the parking lot. When you get to your mom’s Ford Focus he opens the passenger side door for you and you slip in as he puts your suitcase into the trunk. You fiddle with your phone as he starts the car and pulls out of the lot and heads towards the highway.

It’s still a decent drive back towards home and the silence is awkward. Aaron keeps glancing over at you and you try to not catch his eyes. You scroll through your instagram feed and will the time to go faster.

“I’m sorry your dad couldn’t make it,” Aaron finally says, his voice low and unsure. He opens his mouth as if to say something else but stops himself.

“I’m sorry too,” you reply, the bite in your voice mostly gone. You look over at him and he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. “We should start over.”

He briefly takes his eyes of the road to look over at you. You smile in return. “I’d like that,” he says. “You go first.”

“Okay,” you say, straightening up a little. “My name is (Y/N). I’m nineteen and my favorite animals are penguins.”

“Me too!” Aaron replies, his eyes excited. “They look like they’re wearing tuxedos!”

“I know,” you say, “so cute. Maybe we can go see them at the aquarium.”

“I’d like that,” he says, so sincerely it tugs at your heart.”

“So would I,” you reply, your attention totally on Aaron now. “What else? Tell me everything about you.”

“‘Name’s Aaron and I just turned 20 last week,” he says.

“Oh, I guess we’ll have to celebrate then,” you say.

“Maybe,” he says with a slight chuckle. “We’ll see.”

The two of you ease into conversation for the next forty-five minutes. He tells you about his parents and how he started playing baseball. You tell him about school and all the things you’re going to show him this summer.

“Really, the ice cream here is unbeatable. Second to none,” you say, somewhat proud.

“Is that so?” Aaron says.

“Yeah, I worked at a shop the last two summers. It’s a rite of passage for all Cape kids, really,” you say. “I’ll have to take you there.”

“It’s a date,” Aaron says and immediately blushes. You can’t help but blush in return.

“I guess it is,” you say, feeling bold.

Aaron nods and suddenly he’s pulling into the driveway of your parents’ house.

“Listen, I know you’re bummed about your dad and all, but it was really great to get to spend some time with you,” he says, turning off the ignition.

“We have the whole summer,” you say, smiling.

[ecotone99]

[MS] In the Garden Where She Waits

She was so lovely, and so perfect in such an elegantly serene and angelic manner, delicate and true, without a hint of amorality. Her long golden locks glistened in the moonlight, embracing the softness of her cheeks, and floated whimsical in the glow of night. I was enraptured, and had barely taken a breath in the moments since we promised ourselves to each other. Were I but a more handsome accompaniment adorning her arm, more attentive to her charms... perhaps well earned would this moment have been! And yet I bore only the weight of a nation at war, as a simultaneous battle raged in heart and hands, its devastation reflected in my eyes, its infernal choking of life felt often within my grasp. I could promise nothing but that same embattled heart, for her and her alone. Mortal and wounded, but full of the same red fervent blood that washed clean my soul the moment she first touched my hand. A hand struggling to hold such a delicate rose without crushing it under fear of weakness, and yet in her aura I found a peace I could live with. And so our inseparability flourished.

I awoke just after midnight, startled by a sudden lack of warmth, despite late summer in Charleston being particularly humid at all hours. The whole of my body shook and ached, hypothermic in its delivery, digging at my internals as each icy breath escaped my lips. Moreover, as I adjusted to the darkness, a new concern overtook the first - she was nowhere to be seen. The antique maple floors creaked with every step as I paced about our room, huddled within my thoughts.. searching for an explanation that never came. The chill bit at my exposed skin, and so I fished a pair of slacks from the pile, yanked my coat from the rack and rather clumsily stumbled down the hall and downstairs onto the porch at 2 Meeting Street, welcoming the dewy fog as it danced upon my lips.

And there she was. I had to look away and return my gaze, such was the bewilderment which afflicted my thoughts in that moment. The same golden amber flowing beautifully down her back was now neatly corrupted into a bun atop her head, the white lace of a wedding gown draping her shoulders and flowing down her back, softly white in view of a nearby street lamp. She was setting a brisk pace toward the bandstand in the Gardens, and I trundled down the steps, the trepidity evident in my voice as it danced through the mist. The silence between us was deafening, and my concern grew palpable, the hot blood pulsing through my veins once more as curiosity became concern.

She was on the first step of the bandstand when I set a foot into the park, the lively green grass dampening my feet - admonishment for misplacing my boots in the scuffle for clothes earlier. Scanning the ground nearby, I was able to place the dirt path that appeared reasonably dry, and shuffled over onto it rather uncouthly. That was the moment it all changed. Suddenly the park was lit by lanterns, fine gentlemen and ladies were dressed to the nines, and the sweet smell of pipes filled the air, their smoke rings undulating in and amongst the trees about the lawn. It seemed a convivial affair, and as the crowd closed in around the bandstand, it drew my eyes to the bride, my bride, now fully ascended and taking the hand of another man. If astonishment were a living being, it could have been drafted in my image.

And yet, I could force not a single syllable from my mouth, nor outward stretching of my hands. My legs grew stiff and seemed cemented in place. This was a mental trapping, for I felt sure a dream was in progress, and could not help but stare at the awful merriment enjoyed by the masses, at my expense. Their jovial laughter and lucid smiles echoed about the park, and in what seemed only seconds, they parted for the couple moments earlier standing on the stage. My bride! What madness! Awakening from the transfixion which held my thoughts in check, I began ushering my way through the crowd toward them, but the deluge of happily waving and cheering guests in front of me would not give. Who was this man... the one with my wife? Even if a dream, my curiosity peaked uncontrollably as I strained a glimpse of his face, managing only further commotion amongst the crowd.

This continued for what seemed several minutes, the crippling anxiety spilling out onto my face in waves of emotion. And then suddenly, I was surrounded no longer, and could make out the two figures walking hand in hand down Meeting St towards the Inn. Regaining composure, yet lacking the clarity I sought, I made a fateful decision to follow and observe where this led, sure that any moment I would awaken with her lovely hand in mine, a bewildering but altogether calming thought. As they entered the porch and continued upstairs, an uneasiness set in and I began pinching myself, assured that this cruel vision would soon end.

Instead, the awful penance to which I had subscribed led us to the very room we occupied earlier, the door slightly ajar as I had left it in my haste. I contemplated the weight of a glance at the two of them inside, but in that moment the sound of footsteps approaching the door met my ears, and I eased into the shadow of a small entryway nearby. As they passed and made their way back downstairs, I tiptoed inside. Minutes passed, and yet I could find no wallet or identification for this imposter. She had left her purse though, and I fumbled through it as a thief would, shameless and burdened with an unrequited emptiness inside. And there it was, a photo from just before my deployment, the one she treasured most, that she held closest to her heart. In that moment I had forgotten why I was digging through her possessions, and felt an intense love once more, its smile painted on my face. He could never know her as I did, and I felt a comfort in the belief that this nightmare would soon end, the disquieting feelings erased from memory.

I flipped it over, remembering she had written “my love” on its reverse, when the thud of footsteps on the stairs startled me, and I dropped it on the floor in haste, cowering in a corner as they re-entered the room. Noticing the disarray, they began collecting her things, commenting on the open door. He knelt and picked up my photo, inquiring as to its origin. The cold returned, my skin suddenly clammy as a knot welled up inside. “That’s my childhood sweetheart. He was shot in France on the beaches and drowned before any of his men could attempt a rescue. This is all I have of him - they couldn’t recover his body.” She paused to look around the room. “We stayed here once before he deployed, and spoke of marrying right there in the park, as you and I did tonight.. but he never made it home.” She brought the photo to her lips, kissed it once and placed it back in her purse. My heart sank like an anchor to the ocean floor. I struggled to catch my breath under the crushing weight of morality, and an almost deafening roar filled my eardrums, while a cacophony of yelling permeated throughout my soul, the noise growing unbearable. The shaking returned, this time with violence.

We were nearly there. Almost gliding now over the whitecaps, full steam ahead towards Easy Red, and a date with destiny. The Samuel Chase was far behind, and in turning to gaze upon her, my eyes met the Lieutenant, who gave me another forceful shake and asked if I was feeling okay. I responded in the affirmative, learning that moments after we launched in the Higgins boat, a mighty wave rocked our stern - causing several of us to topple - and in my case, be knocked out for a bit. Other than a sharp headache, I was relieved - mainly that the nightmare had been only that. But ahead, who could say for sure? I miss her, and imagine she’s sitting in the Garden, staring out beyond the harbor for signs of a ship. Forever waiting, forever hopeful.

https://williamwit.com https://twitter.com/iamwilliamwit

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[laresearchette]

Saturday, March 09, 2019 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: DRAG ME DOWN THE AISLE (TLC Canada) 9:00pm

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME/CRAVE/NETFLIX CANADA:

CRAVE TV TEEN TITANS GO! TO THE MOVIES

CURLING (TSN/TSN3) 10:00am: Tim Hortons Brier: Tiebreaker (TSN/TSN3) 3:00pm: Tim Hortons Brier: Page Playoff (TSN/TSN3) 8:00pm: Tim Hortons Brier: Page Playoff

U SPORTS BASKETBALL (SN360) 1:00pm: Men’s Basketball - Semi-Final #1 (SN360) 3:00pm: Women’s Basketball - Semi-Final #1 (SN360) 5:00pm: Men’s Basketball - Semi-Final #2 (SN360) 7:00pm: Women’s Basketball - Semi-Final #2

MLB BASEBALL (SN) 1:00pm: Jays at Phillies

CHL HOCKEY (SN1) 3:30pm: Oshawa Generals at Ottawa 67s

MLS SOCCER (TSN) 6:00pm: Real Salt Lake at Whitecaps FC

NHL HOCKEY (CBC/SN1/Omni) 7:00pm: Leafs at Oilers (City/SN1) 7:00pm: Sens at Bruins (CBC/SN1/SN/Omni) 10:00pm: Knights at Canucks

W5 (CTV) 7:00pm: An investigation into claims of abuse at Ontario schools; an investigation into a leukemia treatment for children.

TEEN TITANS GO! TO THE MOVIES (Crave) 7:30pm: With a few madcap ideas and a song in their hearts, the Teen Titans head to Hollywood to fulfill their dreams. Things soon go awry, however, when a supervillain plans to take over the planet -- putting the very fate of the young heroes on the line.

MYSTERY 101 (W Network) 8:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Amy Winslow is an English professor at a Pacific Northwest college who specializes in mystery fiction; when one of her students goes missing, Amy is convinced there's been foul play.

THE WRONG FRIEND (Lifetime Canada) 8:00pm: The moment Riley meets Chris, she thinks he is handsome, charming and affectionate. He seems perfect, but after a party at his house, Riley sees that Chris has a darker side.

HOW TO TALK TO GIRLS AT PARTIES (Super Channel Fuse) 8:00pm: Worlds collide when Enn, a shy teenager in 1970s London, meets the beautiful and rebellious Zan at a party. They set in motion the ultimate showdown between their rivaling worlds and test the limits of how far they will go for true love.

A WINTER PRINCESS (Super Channel Heart & Home) 8:00pm: Princess Carly, working incognito at a ski resort, must team up with the owner's brother, Brent, to plan the resort's 50th-anniversary celebration.

SKYSCRAPER (Crave) 9:00pm:Former FBI agent Will Sawyer gets framed for a blazing fire in the world's tallest building. Now a wanted man and on the run, he must find those responsible, clear his name and somehow rescue his family when they become trapped inside the inferno.

THE PASSIONATE EYE (CBC News Network) 10:00pm: Fashion's Dirty Secrets

POP LIFE (CTV) 12:05am: Singer-songwriter, dancer and musician Sarah Brightman discusses her latest album, tour and why she was born to perform.

[365footballorg-blog]

Freedman: It's time our prospects shouldered the weight of expectation

March 22, 20186:32PM EDT

Fifteen years ago, the 20 players on the US Under-20 national team knew they were in for new experiences when they arrived in the United Arab Emirates ahead of the 2003 FIFA World Youth Championship. After all, but a handful were college kids who had barely been out of the country, let alone to the Middle East.

But none expected to be shown up by a 14-year-old, last-minute addition to the squad.

After their first training session in Abu Dhabi, a swarm of reporters and cameramen rushed them as they were heading to the team bus. All the media wanted was a few minutes of Freddy Adu’s time.

Former US phenom Freddy Adu, celebrating a goal during Olympic qualifying in 2008. | USA TODAY Sports Images

Barely two weeks had gone by since Major League Soccer made the teen phenom from the D.C. suburbs the youngest signing in league history, and the hype machine had already started cranking. He was so talented, many of the stories said, he could become “the American Pelé” – that long-awaited breakout star American soccer had been chasing for years.

And in this moment, Adu’s teammates couldn’t understand why a kid five years younger than they were had the power to hold up their departure.

“I let him have a little moment,” recalls former longtime US U-20 coach Thomas Rongen, “but then I yelled, ‘Freddy, the bus is leaving in exactly one minute! If you’re not on it, we’re leaving without you.’”

As it turned out, that was the minute Adu was lost to The Machine. For all of his god-given gifts, Adu eventually drowned as the hype flooded and big money circled around him and anything and anyone in his orbit. Adu always had the talent, but somewhere along the way, the pathway to achievement became shrouded. The American Pelé he was not.

One has yet to surface. But countless other young phenoms have been put through The Machine: Bobby Convey. Santino Quaranta. Eddie Johnson. Jozy Altidore. Juan Agudelo. Those names and others saddled with the “Next Big Thing” mantle.

“We in the American soccer community put these guys on a pedestal and hang on them sky-high expectations they could never meet,” says Rongen, who came to love many of these players while coaching them in their youth. “And they bought into it. They loved the attention, and fame becomes the overriding factor – it’s bigger than the game. Our own culture created monsters.”

And that’s the honest truth. Thousands of players have marched through the American youth development system, but no matter how talented they are – and to be fair, many have been immensely talented – none has become that breakout star who sets the world on fire. Perhaps we only have ourselves to blame. We’re so insecure about our place in the game that we invest countless hours of passion into hoping someone will unearth that unicorn. And even if he shows a hint of becoming truly next-level, we can’t just back off and let him play.

This used to bother me to no end. How are we supposed to cultivate this sort of player when we’re crushing him with our own expectations before he can even prove himself? Why would we do such a disservice to a kid when our system is still far from perfect? In the past, I was first in line … to point the finger back at us.

I’m done with all that. With the United States missing the World Cup for the first time since 1986, and Canada chasing its first return trip since that same year, things have changed. There’s new hope with new talent, and the landscape has shifted. If we’re truly going to build one of these guys into our first real world-class superstar, he’s going to need to shoulder all of those expectations in order to come out the other side on top. That goes for guys like Christian Pulisic, FCD academy product Weston McKennie and Red Bulls Homegrown Tyler Adams in the US, as well as Vancouver Whitecaps speedster Alphonso Davies and former Orlando City SC man Cyle Larin across the border. The potential is still there. Let’s throw them into the fire and see what they’re made of.

Former US national teamer Eddie Johnson on the ascent in 2005. | USA TODAY Sports Images

Eddie Johnson remembers The Machine well. As a heat-seeking young striker from northeastern Florida, he earned plenty of attention in the mid-2000s for his innate scoring capability (Sports Illustrated once dubbed him “the Golden Child”). He used it as motivation, especially coming from a rough neighborhood and a background where he constantly had to prove himself. But even he admits today that he probably lacked the maturity to deal with all.

“The hype drove me,” he tells MLSsoccer.com from his home in Orlando, where he works in youth development. “I had a desire to want it more because of the lack of respect I felt they had abroad for Americans. But when things don’t go right even for one second – let’s say you’re hurt and not playing, or you see something about you on social media – all that negative stuff can start to play with your mind.”

So far, it doesn’t look like Pulisic is battling such mental gymnastics. At 19, he’s proven a lot of would-be doubters wrong: He’s already considered the best player on the US national team, and he’s a starter for one of the best clubs in Germany. Borussia Dortmund hasn’t coddled him, but it isn’t afraid of throwing him out there either: Pulisic does plenty of media appearances, and doesn’t seem to utter a single wrong word. He’s as polished as they come and seems to be able to handle the hype better than many who came before him. And in this age of instant feedback, he’ll hear it immediately if he makes an errant pass or puts in a subpar performance.

Canadian phenom Alphonso Davies has begun to step toward the expectations. | USA TODAY Sports Images

Canada’s insecurity runs a bit deeper. For every young phenom who wasn’t able to make that big next step, there’s also the disappointment of seeing a talented Canadian homegrown suiting up for another national team. So not only is it refreshing to see in Davies a kid who grew up in Canada staying with Canada (the irony isn’t lost on fans that he’s the first Canadian to be invited to train with Manchester United since Owen Hargreaves), there’s something a bit different about his game, too. He is – as Toronto FC Academy coach, TSN analyst and former Canadian national teamer Terry Dunfield says – “special.”

“He’s probably going to be dealing with the circus around them: Friends telling him how good he is, reading stuff saying he’s the next best thing, hearing about it on social media, listening to me talk about him,” says Dunfield, who himself dealt with high expectations after moving to Manchester City at age 15. “There’s a big responsibility on [the Whitecaps] and his family to keep him grounded. But that’s what Canada needs: a talented, young player who’s getting minutes and who you can build a team around. And he’s nowhere near his full potential yet.”

In the past, I argued piling on that hype was unfair. Part of the reason was I didn’t necessarily believe there existed enough infrastructure in place in the American and Canadian game to supply a young kid with the tools he needed: mental toughness to go with a technical skill set, a competitive environment, a solid support system and a clear pathway to club success at home or abroad. I no longer believe that to be the case.

“Everything is happening now,” Johnson says. “Soccer is mainstream here, and there’s more notoriety that goes along with it: There’s a chance to make some real money if you’re good enough. The expectations are what we always dreamed they’d be, and with that, the expectations on players comes at a younger age. Credit these guys like Pulisic, Davies, Larin and McKennie – they’re delivering.”

And that’s what it truly means to become a world-class player: You’ve got to be able to combine talent, work ethic and mental toughness in equal measures. You’ve got to be a complete player and not just rely on one part of your game, no matter how sublime it may be. And that means being able to take on those immense expectations and use them to push you forward, not hold you back. If you can’t handle it? Maybe you weren’t meant to become truly great in the first place.

As Dunfield puts it, “When you walk into stadiums of 50,000 people and you hear people talking about you, you have to have a little bit of that Cristiano Ronaldo arrogance.”

Dortmund may or may not have had their tongue planted firmly in cheek when they tweeted out a graphic comparing Pulisic’s early career with that of Ronaldo and Lionel Messi.

Christian Pulisic’s teenage years in comparison with @Cristiano and Lionel #Messi: Wow, that’s what we call an impressive statline! 🇺🇸⚽ (via @Bundesliga_EN) @ussoccer@cpulisic_10pic.twitter.com/UAVRBLtKvk

— Borussia Dortmund 🇺🇸🇬🇧 (@BlackYellow) March 20, 2018

But the point was made: The kid is special. Look closer, and there’s a subtle subtext: No one ever implores fans in Portugal and Argentina to tone it down. Bring on The Machine.

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Freedman: It's time our prospects shouldered the weight of expectation was originally published on 365 Football

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Bisping lets loose on St-Pierre

Tennis

Del Potro beats Sousa in quest for third Basel title

Wawrinka needs coach after Norman leaves

Federer beats Tiafoe in at hometown Basel event

Sock rallies to beat Pospisil at Swiss Indoors

Williams needs more than 3 hours to beat Ostapenko

Shapovalov through to 2nd round of Swiss Indoors

Top-ranked Halep beats Garcia at WTA Finals

Del Potro beats Dimitrov in Stockholm final

Pliskova beats Williams to open WTA Finals

Muguruza earns WTA Player of the Year honours

Raonic's season over due to ongoing injuries

Carreno Busta knocked out of Kremlin Cup

Mladenovic, Vandeweghe lose Kremlin Cup openers

Canada's Marino to return to competition after five-year absence

Sharapova loses to Rybarikova at Kremlin Cup

Federer beats Nadal to win Shanghai Masters

Sharapova wins first title since doping ban

Nadal withdraws from Swiss Indoors next week

Serena plans to defend Australian title

Nadal reaches Shanghai quarters

Golf

Fortunes can change quickly in the world of golf

Tiger set to enter plea bargain for DUI arrest

Typhoon, visa flap send Kuchar's schedule into rough

Pebble Beach to host first Women's US Open in 2023

Exhausted Thomas ends year on winning note

Tiger posts another video of him on the course

Garcia wins Andalucia Valderrama Masters

Langer eagles final hole to win in Richmond

Woods cleared to resume full golf activities

Bump & Run: Season 2 - Episode 23

Expectations rising for du Toit

PGA Tour event moving to Kentucky

Ko clinches 1st LPGA Tour victory on home soil

Perez wins CIMB Classic by four strokes

Park shares lead with Kim, Lee in Korea

Price, Montgomerie, Kelly share Tour Champions lead

Trio atop PGA Champions Tour lead

Steele successfully defends Safeway Open title

After winless season, McIlroy plots return to top

A look at the Canadians playing on the PGA Tour this season

Hockey Canada

WATCH LIVE: Women's Hockey - Canada vs. USA

Scrivens, Lee on Canada's pre-Olympic roster

Labonte sees great development in Canadian goalies

Canada's women's team falls to U.S. in pre-Olympic matchup

Bonhomme: Coyne, Decker and Knight overpower Team Canada

Davidson discusses challenges of assembling Olympic roster

66 players chosen to represent Canada at 2017 World Under-17 Hockey Challenge

Renney discusses Canada's Olympic expectations

Olympic gold medalist Watchorn announces retirement

IIHF release Olympic hockey schedule

Canadian women's forward Campbell retires from international play

Olympian Labonte retires from women's hockey

Hockey Canada contacts Doan and Iginla for Olympics

Regina hockey legend Tuer dies at 87

McBain leads Canada over Czechs to win Ivan Hlinka

Canada beats Sweden to advance to Ivan Hlinka final

Canada rolls over Finland at Ivan Hlinka

Russia edges Canada at Sochi Hockey Open

Canada falls to Russia to open Ivan Hlinka

Curling

WCT Recap: Edin defends at Champery, Roth surprises at Canad Inns

Big names highlight field at men's Road to the Roar Pre-Trials

Anybody's game at women's Road to the Roar in Summerside

WCT Recap: Carruthers defends title at Canad Inns

Canada takes silver at mixed curling worlds

Brier to be held in Brandon in 2019

WCT/CCT Recap: Gushue, Homan just keep on winning

Mourning the passing of Ray Turnbull

WCT/CCT Recap: World champions Gushue, Homan victorious

Canada to face Brazil for men's worlds curling berth

WCT Recap: Gunnlaugson, Tippin, Englot pick up wins

WCT Recap: Jacobs, Sinclair take home Shorty Jenkins

What you need to know for the women's curling season

What you need to know for the men's curling season

Curling worlds to stay in Canada until 2020

Gushue downs Walstad to claim Tour Challenge

WCT/CCT Recap: Tirinzoni defends Stu Sells title

Team Gushue captures Everest Curling Challenge

Curling Canada expands Olympic pre-trials field

[babygirlspurgeon]

whitecaps I miss u forever and your fucking beautiful jerseys……