#why are they hiding him behind the goalie mask????

[zegrassi]

I cannot handle what an absolute bombshell John Gibson is 🥵

[peanut-in-the-goal]

Okay so this was one of my favorite things I’ve written but the idiot over here just deleted it when they tried to reblog sdjkfsd do with this what you will I’m so done trying

(Luckily I found my doc after scrolling back, so I just edited some grammar errors but whatever wsedfk;ds)

Characters by @lumosinloveLeo turned away from the doorframe, instead opting to sleep in his own room. He shook his head at the unwanted emotion and thoughts filling his head. It was stupid, so so stupid. 

He doesn’t understand why Logan and Finn would want him. Not when they have each other. Not when he comes home to find them curled together in bed, fast asleep. 

They looked so peaceful there, sleeping and holding each other. It was clear as day for anyone to see, they were perfect for each other, they belonged together. He’d feel horrible waking them up, or disrupting and annoying them. 

He frowned as he walked into his old room. It’s been at least a month, if not more since he slept in here. His blankets felt stiff as he climbed in, cold with the two other bodies he was so accustomed to having next to him. 

He lay there, too many thoughts going through his head, none of them good. He stared at the ceiling, debating on staying here in this uncomfortable bed, in this lonely room, or joining his boyfriends in the room over. 

He wanted too, really did, but something in the back of his mind made him think that they didn’t actually want him there. They went to sleep earlier because they didn’t want to see him when he came back. 

He hardly acknowledged the tears rolling down his face, as he sniffed and turned to bury his head in his pillow. 

He fell asleep with that thought repeating in his head. 

 ***

Finn woke first. Twisting to see the clock behind him, but not wanting to wake Logan who still had his head rested on his chest, he read the time. It was just a quarter past 12 in the morning. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, where was Leo? He should’ve been home by then, really he should’ve been home hours ago. Looking around, it was obvious that he hadn’t been in the room all night. The bathroom light was off, and his door to his bedroom was open, but they had left it that way hoping that Leo would come join them when he got home. 

Gently, he pressed a kiss to Logan’s forehead, sliding out from under him. Logan stirred, his green eyes opening slowly before blinking a few times, Finn quickly whispered to him. Shushing him, and telling him to go back to sleep. 

“Wh’re you go’ng?” He asked, his voice groggy and rough from sleep. He was already sitting up before Finn could argue. Finn sighed, sitting back down on the foot of the bed. 

“I’m going to go see if Nut’s home yet.” His hand hovered over Logan’s before landing it there, his thumb brushing over his knuckles softly. 

“Nut?” Logan said confused, looking and sounding more awake than he did before, turning to check the time. 12:20. 

He mumbled to himself before looking back at Finn. 

“He didn’t come home? Is he okay?” Logan was already almost halfway out of bed before Finn stood. 

“I don’t know… He wasn’t in here when I woke up, and it doesn’t look like he was here…” he trailed off, looking meaningfully at Logan. 

Logan shrugged, unsure of the situation at hand, but hoping that Leo, their giant of a boyfriend, was safe. 

“Did you get any texts from him or anything?” Logan asked. Finn looked confused for a second, realizing he had totally forgotten to check his phone when he woke up.

He looked at both their phones, just past Logan on the nightstand. 

“I don’t know, truthfully I forgot to check,” he admitted. Logan ran a hair through his hair before mumbling out an “okay,” and grabbing both their phones. The only text was from a few hours ago, On my way home.

That was hours ago, around 9:30. They looked at each other, dread and concern

setting in. 

“Are you sure he’s not here?” Logan asked. 

“I’m not sure, when I woke up he wasn’t in the room, and I didn’t hear anything.” Finn groaned inside frustration. If Leo were here, why didn’t he wake them when he got home? Logan huffed running his hand through his hair, again, before walking out of their bedroom. Finn sighed before following...

“Nutty?” Logan called. “Where are you?” He mumbled, mostly to himself. Leo wasn’t in the kitchen, nor was he watching TV in their main room. Confused he opened Leo’s old rooms door, poking his head inside.

“Peanut?” He asked. He turned, motioning for Finn to follow him in when he made out Leo’s silhouette in the darkroom. 

Confusion flared in Logan’s eyes as he walked over and sat on the side of the bed, gently placing a hand on Leo’s shoulder, rousing him. Leo mumbled a bit, trying to barricade himself further under the blankets and pillows. Finn couldn’t help but think that he looked cute, his face flushed sleep and his blonde hair splayed on the pillow. 

Logan smiled softly, but at the same time feeling horrible that his boyfriend went to bed alone for the first time in… He doesn’t even know how long it’s been since one of them fell asleep without another. The first night back at Dumo’s without Leo and Finn had been rough, he didn’t get any sleep that night. 

He shook Leo’s shoulder, slowly waking him up and pulling him back to consciousness. Leo’s eyes blinked open, his head lifting to look at Logan and Finn, his eyes darting back and forth between them.

“Knut, Knutty,” he singsonged. “What happened,” Logan whispered

“Hmm? Quoi?” Leo blinked his eyes again, adjusting to the light that had filled the room. He cleared his throat, resting his weight on his elbows before asking again. “What?”

“Why didn’t you come wake us, we didn’t know you were home,” Logan said. He pressed a kiss to Leo’s forehead. Leo blinked at him, before sitting all the way up.

“Oh,” he mumbled. He trained his eyes down, his hands fiddling with the end of the comforter.

“Oh? Leo…” Finn repeated.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, you both looked so comfortable sleeping, and laying with each other,” Leo burst out, his eyes going wide as he realized what exactly he just said. He shut his mouth before stuttering out a hasty apology. “I-I didn’t mean, uh I—”

“Wait a minute, are you jealous?”

Leo shook his head, his eyes trained down on his hands still.

“I’m not jealous,” he mumbled. “Just…” He shook his head at the thought, trailing off.

Finn reached out, brushing his fingers against Leo’s cheek. His fingers coming back wet from the tears. He hadn’t known when they fell.

“Just what Leo? You can tell us, we’re all here for each other, yea? I just want to be there for you,” He asked. Leo nodded softly,

“Oui, yes.”

“Then tell us Nut, you don’t have to hide, or put up your mask. It’s just us. It’s you, me, and Finn. Do you trust us?” Logan piped in from Finn’s side, his voice nothing but soft and kind and warm, everything Leo needed.

Leo nodded without hesitation.

“I trust you guys, both of you, it’s just… Uh…” He took a deep breath before continuing. “You both could do some much better. You deserve so much better. And I just… I want you to be happy, and want you to have everything, everything you want. And I don’t know if I can give that to you… I’m a rookie, a goalie who couldn’t even win their first fucking game, why would you pick me?”

“Leo…” Finn and Logan looked at each other, both near tears. They didn’t know Leo felt this way, insignificant. Why hadn’t they realized, what kind of boyfriends were they? 

“Hey, look at me, Focus on my alright?” Finn waited a moment for Leo to look up, his blue eyes looking so sad, shattered even. “I love you. Okay? I love you for you, I love that right after that first game you got right back on the ice, I love that you don’t give up. I love seeing you in the kitchen taking care of us, I love you being there in the morning when I wake up, being able to kiss you good night every night. Leo, I love your personality, your kindness. I love seeing the fire in your eyes when you’re on the ice. I pick you, we both do. 

“You were our missing piece. Not someone else. We want you.”  Logan said, “We tried t be together, just us. It didn’t work, not without you Peanut, we need you.”

Leo smiled shyly, the tears that fell were falling for an entirely different reason than they had before. 

“Come on Nutter butter, let’s go back to bed.” Finn grabbed his hand, tugging him up and out of bed. Leo smiled, tripping over his own feet getting up. The three of them laughed, Logan, helping steady him. 

Both Finn and Logan grabbed his hand, dragging him back down the hall to Finn’s room, their room really. 

“Promise you’ll stay until we wake up?” Finn asked, laying down and immediately curling around Logan who claimed his spot in the middle.

“I promise.”

[insideabunker]

The Games: Chapter 13

Lexa ran her fingers over the Korean characters on the menu, compulsively fiddling with her shirt as she gazed at the awkward English translations below each item. She gazed down at her outfit, cursing herself for not having included more nonathletic clothing in her suitcase. As things stood, Lexa had packed only a single pair of jeans. As for shirts, her team Canada flannel had been the only option that had not had a hood and a drawstring. She had rounded out the look with her least beat up v-neck and a pair of snow boots. Her hair was down, tamed, and straightened for once, and her face betrayed the subtlest hint of makeup. She hadd gone over the look at least ten times before leaving her dorm room, resigned that it was probably the best she could do on short notice in a foreign country.

She sighed, convinced that all the outfit did was make her look like she was trying too hard to look like she was trying. After all, the first time Clarke had picked her up she hadd been wearing a full sweat-suit. Clarke Griffin, the ever focused athlete that she was, did not seem like she would judge Lexa for not having brought going-out clothes to Pyeongchang.

Lexa had come early, hoping a beer or two would be enough to take off the edge. She was remarkably early, even for someone raised with the gospel of the "on time is late" mindset. Unfortunately, her advanced arrival had done nothing to calm her nerves. Out of her element and feeling awkward, Lexa had been too shy to attempt to flag down a waiter. Sober and clearly out of place, she now felt more uncomfortable than she had when she had arrived.

The truth was that Pyeongchang was Lexa's first venture out of North America. She would never have admitted it, but before the games, the most exotic destination to which she hadd ever ventured was Detroit. Even with her small Korean phrasebook tucked into her back pocket, and a server whose command of English seemed to be more formal and eloquent than her own was, Lexa felt too embarrassed even to attempt to place an order. Instead, she hung by her table awkwardly and pretended to study the menu, waiting for Clarke to swoop in and save her.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. It was a rarity for Lexa to be this nervous about something as silly as a date. Then again, a date was itself something of a rarity for the star goalie. She had spent years jumping from one amateur team to another. The constant interruption of new destinations and months spent on the road, traveling between the mining towns and industrial cities that hosted the OHL franchises made little room for a social life.

Dating, in particular, was a hardship — places like Sudbury, Flint, and Sault Ste. Marie were by no means meccas of progressive social dynamics. Between her geographical isolation and her training schedule, Lexa found her cruising opportunities limited to the few trips her team made to larger cities, such as Windsor and Toronto. When she thought about it, it had been over a year since she had been on a proper date. Lexa gulped, realizing how rusty she probably was at making dinner conversation.

She groaned, checking her watch. The minute hand pointed ominously at a tick mark just to the left of 12. 6:58 pm, Lexa thought.  “It won't be long now.”

The front door opened, and through the sea of Korean business people occluding her view of the front entrance, Lexa spied a pair of shapely legs in high heeled boots. She smiled, relieved that Clarke had finally arrived.  When the crowd of suits parted, however, Raven Reyes' face greeted Lexa instead. Raven walked towards the table tensely, her face a mask of sober resolve.

"Raven, where is..."

"She isn't coming, Lexa."

"But..."

Raven held up her hand. "For the record, I encouraged her to tell you this in person, but she wouldn't listen." Raven took a deep breath, closing her eyes in frustration. "I didn't think it was right to leave you hanging."

Like clockwork, Lexa's phone buzzed in her pocket. She reached for it, fumbling as she typed in her password and opened the screen. She stared down at the text bubble that waited for her.

[You talked to my coach behind my back!]

The phone buzzed again, and another text bubble popped up under the first.

[How could you!]

Lexa shoved her phone back into her pocket, not daring to look when it bussed a third time. She withdrew her hand, suddenly aware that her fingers were trembling.

“Raven, I didn’t…”

“Woods…” Raven sighed, rolling her eyes upward in an exasperated look that conveyed she'd had had this conversation once already. “Look, I will ll never admit this to anyone but you, but you did the right thing. Honestly honest, you did me a favor. You spilling the bean to Kane let me off the hook as far as being the bad guy.”

Lexa mulled over the statement, her mind wandering back to seeing Raven in the Lobby with Kane.

“So you didn’t tell him?”

“No.”

“But, I saw you talking to him this morning. I thought I was backing you up!”

“I told him that if he wanted an honest appraisal of Clarke’s injury, you were the best person to ask.”

Lexa could hear her heart pounding in her ears as her blood pressure rose. “You set me up to be the bad guy!”

Raven’s jaw clenched, her arms crossing defensively over her torso. “I told Kane the truth, which is that Clarke wouldn’t talk to me about her knee, or show me the extent of the damage.”

“But, you knew she was hiding an injury! You could have said something!”

“And what would you suggest I have said, exactly? Coach, you need to bench my best friend right before she finally achieves her dream?.

Raven pressed her fingers into her temples and massaged them, fighting off a tension headache that was invading her head like a foreign army. She grabbed a beer off the tray of a passing waiter and gulped it brazenly. “Lexa, with all due respect, it makes way more sense for you to take the fall for this than me.”

Lexa felt her blood boiling, Her her raced, her blood pumping until it sounded like a bass drum beating in her ears.”

“Why!?”

At that, Raven looked genuinely startled. Her eyes widened, and she stared at Lexa quizzically, as though the girl had missed a joke that was obvious to everyone else.

“Lexa…” She stalled, biting her lip as she debated the most delicate way to articulate her thoughts.

“Clarke had been my best friend since we were teenagers.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. As much as it's nice to see her putting herself out there, you can’t think that this thing between you is going to last.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, knowing what she was about to say would be an emotional haymaker.

“In the grand scheme of things Lexa, you’re a blip on her radar.  When this is over, you’ll go back to your life and I’ll be the one helping Clarke to pick up the pieces of her’s. I can’t break her AND put her back together.” Raven looked down at the tablet top. “I’m sorry that you had to be a casualty of this, but…”

“How could you do that?”

She looked up again. The look in Lexa’s eyes was one of genuine hurt. It wasn’t something that Raven hadn’t expected.

“Lexa, I'm…”

Before she could finish, Lexa was out the door of the bar and hailing a cab. Raven tried to follow her, but she was gone before the goalie had even opened the front door.

[thelovecore]

Hip Check /Steve Harrington\

Hip Check /Steve Harrington\

Reader is newer to Hawkins and teaches the kids how to play street hockey. Dustin makes Steve drive him to his first practice, but forces Steve to stay and meet y/n.

Steve Harrington x female reader

I really can’t stop writing for Steve. It’s a curse I’m very willing to live with. If you want anything with Steve, send me a request!

___________

“Hey Dustin!” One of the kids called from the street. Dustin sighed and looked over at Steve, who drove him to try and play street hockey with some kids from school.

“They seem nice.” Steve said, nodding towards the kids. They went back to shooting on the abnormally tall goalie. “Why is that goalie so big? You got Frankenstein in your class?”

“No. That’s the one kids older sister.” Dustin said. “And frankly, I think you should stick around. She’s pretty cool.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked, squinting at Dustin.

“Your love life is in the toilet and you should be meeting every girl alive to broaden your horizons.” Dustin said, grabbing his stick out of the back seat. “Stay.”

Steve sighed. He knew Dustin was right.

“Alright. But don’t make it weird, Henderson.” Steve said, getting out of the car and leaning on it.

Readers POV

“Hey Dustin!” I said as he walked over with a stick. My brother had told me Dustin was coming. The other kids said Dustin was weird and was weirder after his friend Will moved away. I immediately yelled at all of them and told them street hockey was for everyone.

“Hey y/n.” Dustin said.

“Is your brother going to play? I brought a few extra sticks.” I said, nodding to the guy leaning on his car nearby.

“Oh, he’s not my brother.” Dustin said. “He’s my friend Steve. My single friend Steve, who does not currently have a girlfriend.” Steve must have overheard this, because he was awkwardly looking down and kicking rocks. I lifted my goalie mask off my face and waved at him. He weakly waved back. Dustin smiled a large, cocky smile towards his friend.

“Wanna play? We’re about to just start some shooting drills.” I said. Steve looked over at me.

“Oh..no...I don’t know how...I wasn’t planning on it.” He said, shuffling his feet. I could tell why this guy didn’t have a girlfriend.

“I’ll teach you.” I offered. Now I just kind of wanted to mess with him.

“Oh, uhm, n-no thanks.” He said, glaring at Dustin.

“Suit yourself.” I said, grabbing a drink of water before pulling the mask back down. “Alright Dustin, let’s see this slap shot.”

Dustin shyly took a shot that bounced off my foam leg pads. He looked sad after that.

“That was good! Just make sure you move your hips into it when you shoot. Shift your weight from back to front.” I said. The other kids all showed him and he smiled a little. I could tell he felt more included.

Eventually we played a three on three game with the kids and Dustin was picking up pretty quickly. The other kids included him in plays and he eventually tucked in a goal behind me. The other kids cheered for him and told him good job.

“Good job Dustin, she doesn’t give up many goals.” A kid named Tony said.

“Great job Dustin. Keep practicing those wrist shots and you’re going to be scoring a lot more.” I said. The light from the day had started to fade, and the streetlights were about to kick on.

“Alright guys, enough for today.” I said, pushing the net into the front yard. “See you next week.” The kids all dispersed and Dustin came up to me.

“You’re a really good teacher y/n.” He said. I lifted my mask off and smiled.

“Thanks Dustin. You’re honestly pretty darn good for a beginner. You put a couple stingers on me.” I said, laughing. He laughed a little and looked over at Steve.

“Hey...uh...would you be able to say hi to Steve? He may seem like a total dork, but he’s really cool.” Dustin said. I smiled at the thought of messing with this kid again. In my brain I called him a kid even though he was definitely my age or even a year older.  

“Sure.” I said, walking over awkwardly with my leg pads still on. Steve looked progressively more nervous as we got closer. My brother walked home with his friends, so I had all the time in the world.

“Hey Steve, this is y/n. She’s an awesome goalie and teacher.” Dustin said, grinning ear to ear. Steve scowled at him before looking at me. I smiled at him and took my hand out of my glove and offered it.

“Nice to meet you Steve.” I said. He shook my hand and smiled.

“Nice to meet you.” He said. “Have you always lived  in Hawkins? I feel like I haven’t seen you around before.”

“We moved here last year. I used to live near Chicago. Go Blackhawks.” I said shyly. Why all of a sudden did I feel so shy in front of this doe eyed, nice haired, cute smile...ah crap. He is pretty cute.

“Chicago must be nice compared to here.” Steve said. Dustin had sneaked away with a walkie talkie in hand.

“Eh. It’s a lot more people, but that doesn’t mean the people are better.” I said. “I actually am kind of into this small town vibe. Everyone has been so nice to my brother.” I said. “And the kids around here are pretty interested in learning hockey, which keeps me busy. I work as a waitress normally and I sometimes use some of that money to buy extra sticks for the kids. Everyone deserves a chance to learn the game a little.”

“Wow...that’s really nice of you.” Steve said. He had taken off his sunglasses and we were really looking at each other. In our brief silence, we could hear Dustin behind the car talking into his walkie talkie.

“No, Mike, I’m serious. I think she’s the one. He’s talking to her now. She’s really nice. And I know he’ll think she’s pretty.”

“You’re NOT whispering, Henderson.” Steve said, turning red in his cheeks. I giggled a little and looked down at the ground, feeling my own cheeks go warm. I rubbed my arm and looked back up at Steve. I winced as I hit a spot that I had taken a shot and didn’t have pads.

“You okay?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, just a stinger. Might bruise, probably not.” I said, showing him the red spot on my arm.

“You’re pretty brave to play goalie. I would not want to block all those shots.” Steve said.

“I like goalie. I don’t know why, I just do.” I said.

“You look good doing it. I mean, like, you’re good at it not like, you’re good looking. I mean, you are good looking, just, ah, crap...” Steve stumbled through his words, rubbing the back of his neck. I smiled, not hiding the rush of blood to my cheeks or the pounding of my heart.

“I know what you mean, Steve.” I said.

“Do you...do you want to come get pizza with me? And Dustin, but I guess we could take him home first. Do you like pizza? Probably should have asked that first. It could just be me and you, unless that’d be weird. We can bring Dustin.” He said. I hope he was just as nervous as I was and not always like this.

“I want pizza!” Dustin yelled from behind the car. “Mike, they’re going for pizza!”

I laughed as Steve rolled his eyes.

“Let me take this stuff off. You just better be prepared to smell my sweaty stink while we eat pizza.” I said.

“I don’t mind.” Steve said. I went back to my car and took my equipment off, put on new deodorant and walked back to Steve’s car.

Steve, Dustin, and I went to where Steve said had the best pizza in Hawkins. We got to know each other and laughed at each other’s stories and jokes, and I gave Dustin some quarters to go play pinball.

“You were really good with the kids tonight.” Steve said. “You made Dustin feel really welcome to that group.”

“I try. I know what it’s like to not have a ton of friends, so I want everyone to feel like they have someone to turn to.” I said. “How did you and Dustin get so close?”

“We’ve...been through a lot together.” He said. “That’s a story for a second date.” He instantly went wide eyed when he realized what he said. I sipped my water and smiled at him.

“I’d like that a lot.” I said. “My offer also still stands, whenever you want to play hockey with the kids, I’ll teach you. Maybe I’ll even teach you how to hip check people.”  I laughed.

“I’d...like that.” Steve said, smiling.

“Mike, Lucas, they’re going on a second date!”

“Henderson!”

[mintchocolateleaves]

A/N: For anyone who doesn’t know. @detectivegeekshin and I like to talk AUs and she’s got this crazy superpower of making me want to write things all the time. Recently we’ve been talking about a role reversal AU. Ran’s the detective. Here’s a little bit of their life before Ran shrinks:

Ran doesn’t want to be the one to say it, but it needs to be said.

“They’re really overwhelmed today,” she mutters. Almost nearing the end of the first inning, Ran has been sat out in the cold watching Shinichi as he plays, soccer ball narrowly avoiding the goal each time.

“The other team is really good,” Sonoko says. Even though she won’t admit it, she’s here to cheer Shinichi on too. If anyone asks however, she’s cheering for anyone but him. Ran’s always enjoyed watching their friendship, because if anything, they’re like frenemies.

“Yeah,” Ran says. She spots Shinichi, watches as he sprints towards the ball, trying to steal it from the other team. He manages to get a hold on it for long enough to pass it across to his teammate, Nakamichi, before the ball is reclaimed by the other team. “The other team is really valuing defence.”

Which sucks, because Ran can see it’s throwing Shinichi off. She can see him thinking, the way his body moves a little slower as he attempts to figure out what play will be best, how they can reclaim the win.

The other team only has one goal thus far, if he figures it out, they can win. Ran knows that, but she thinks sometimes when he’s so far in the game, he stops being able to see it for himself.

Not as clearly, anyway.

“A shame,” Sonoko says, her tone becoming light, almost teasing. Ran isn’t prepared for what she’ll say next, she knows. “If he’s not able to get any goals in, you won’t get to see those legs.”

Ran’s cheeks fluster, burning.

Admittedly, watching Shinichi score goals, striking with his right leg in an attempt to send the ball flying into the net, is her favourite part of watching his games. Is it purely for the satisfaction of seeing the muscles in his legs as he moves? Probably.

But that’s not the point – those thoughts are meant to remain unspoken, in Ran’s head as she appreciates his body. Sonoko is not supposed to bring them up. Again.

“S-Sonoko!” Ran stutters, trying to hide her blush. “Y-you can’t say things like that!”

“Why not?” Sonoko teases, “the two of you are practically married. What wife doesn’t appreciate her husband’s legs?”

Ran’s not going to dignify her with a response. Definitely not.

And she’s saved from having the conversation fall into awkward – satisfied on Sonoko’s end – silence. Her phone buzzes, an incoming call, jolting her from focusing on the match.

Plucking it from her pocket, Ran stands, tells Sonoko she’ll be back, before climbing down the bleachers. Hiding beneath them, she answers the call.

“Ah, Mouri-kun,” the voice is Inspector Megure’s, from the homicide department. Someone she’s quite familiar with, since she’s spent hours on cases. “We’ve got an unusual one.”

Ran feels herself perk up. Then, remembering she’s trying to be here for Shinichi, she wilts ever so slightly. Two loves, and she would rather cheer Shinichi on. Wary, she says, “how unusual?”

“Double homicide. Disfigured – acid we think – but there’s no trace of acidity at all.”

Ran bites her lip. Crimes where there’s no trace of the murder weapon almost always includes a trick, and now… she’s curious. Even if it’s morbid.

“Send me the address,” Ran says, “I’ll be there as soon as I can be.”

-

“Kudo, we need to find a way to break their defence–”

Nakamichi’s voice catches his attention long enough for Shinichi to nod his head and say, yes, they really do. He knows Ran is watching, and he needs to win this match, purely because he wants to see her smile and congratulate him.

Maybe then, he’ll finally be able to tell her how he feels. Tell her shortly after a win and hope she reciprocates his feelings.

“I know,” Shinichi breathes, turning to face his friend. “Think you can manage to possess the ball just past the halfway line? Then you can flick it over to me and we can try–”

He breaks eye contact at the sight of someone waving their hands. It’s distracting, and Shinichi knows he should ignore it but then… He realises it’s Ran.

“Kudo?” Nakamichi says, and Shinichi raises a hand, says to give him a second, to focus on getting the ball to him.

Then, he continues focusing on Ran. Her hands are pressed together, as if apologising, and his lips press together, irritation flaring inside him. Because there’s only one reason why she’d be apologising to him… right?

And then, he makes out her lips mouthing the word, case.

Shinichi feels his eyebrow quirk, his smile tightening. Ran’s leaving on a case during his game? Apologising? Mouthing the words, ‘please don’t be mad’.

Oh, Shinichi’s not angry at all. No – obviously not.

He turns back to the field, spots the ball on his side of the pitch, near his teams goal and feels his blood boil. He sprints, tackles the ball out of reach, stealing possession.

“Kudo?” Nakamichi calls, as he races up to the midfield, weaving past other players, expression slowly falling into a glare. “Kudo?”

He doesn’t release the pass like he probably ought to. The other team, anticipating him to pass, offer a small gap for him to race through, slipping into the other team’s box.

She’s such a case-mad detective, why can’t she just wait an extra hour?

“Always another case,” Shinichi hisses to himself, lifting his leg, slamming his foot into the ball. It careens into the goal. “Goddammit Ran!”

The goal strikes the net with enough force that the goalie moves away from the ball, rather than attempting to catch it. Around him, his teammates cheer.

Shinichi is not satisfied.

-

“Shinichi…?”

Ran presses the button to Shinichi’s house, waits for him to answer and then speaks his name into the speaker again. This time, the speaker crackles, indicating he’s at the other side.

“Ran?”

“I came over to say congratulations on winning the game yesterday,” She swings her arms, the bag she’s brought along with her rustling in her hands. “Will you let me in?”

She can imagine him standing by the door, deciding whether he’s angry enough that she’s missed the conclusion to yet another case of his. Nerves run through her, and before he can get a yes or no out, she continues:

“I’m sorry I had my case. Let me make it up to you – I brought you another nerdy mystery book.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shinichi says, the speaker cracking. “Doors open. But don’t think that just because you bring me a mystery, I’ll forgive you.”

“It’s the new Detective Samonji novel.”

She can hear his excitement, even if he tries to mask it with indifference. She steps into his house, meets him in the family study and places the book on the desk he’s sat behind.

Ran grins, watches as Shinichi avoids immediately scooping the book up, not wanting to show how much he wants to immerse himself back into one of his favourite storylines.

He makes eye contact with her, holds Ran’s gaze and points a finger. He says, “You need to quit ditching me for cases. There’s only so many times I’ll forgive you for it.”

“I know,” Ran says, smiling. “You don’t have to wait to read it by the way, I need to go over a case, so you can get started.”

Shinichi reaches for the book and opens the page before she can get any more words out.

[broadstreetmisfits]

Good Times - Carter Hart

Requested?  Y  /  N   “gimme happy carter hart @ maddie”

Prompt: N/A

Warnings: None

A/N: Okay so this is specifically for my friend @marnershart and I just wanna let you know that @fratboyvesey requested this so you’re welcome

A/N number 2: This was inspired by the song “Good Times” by All Time Low. Highly recommend the band

WC: 1,623

Age: 6

“Stop coloring my cat purple!” You whined as you pushed your best friend, Carter, away from your coloring book.

“But now it looks pretty” He replied as he went back to coloring his rocketship green

Grabbing a blue crayon, you drew a stick figure.

“Whose that?” He asked as he looked down at the figure

“That’s me, waving you goodbye” You giggled

“And,” Carter began as he picked up a red crayon and drew a stick figure next to yours. “That’s me”

Age: 10

“Come on Y/N! Don’t be a pansy!” Carter whined as you stood on the front porch of your neighbor’s house.

Carter had dared you to ding-dong ditch your neighbor. However, you were terrified of doing it, since you thought they would come out and yell at you. Nonetheless, after you gulped, you knocked on the door and then ran for your life.

“Quick! Here!” He whisper yelled as he pointed to a bush.

Both you and Carter crawled under some of the lower branches. The two of you watched as the front door of your neighbor’s house swung open. Old Man Jenkins looked around for a few moments before letting out a groan.

“Stupid kids!” Old Man Jenkins yelled as he shook his fist in the air. He then went back inside, closing the door behind him.

You and Carter giggled as you crawled out of the bush.

“That was a good one,” He said as he gave you a high five.

Age 15

Sitting at your desk, you continued to scribble down your homework. A few minutes into doing your work, you heard a knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in!” You called after the third knock. The door opened and looking over your shoulder, you saw Carter walk in. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“I need to uh, talk to you about something,” He said as he sat down on your bed

You swiveled your chair around so that you were facing him “What’s up?”

“So you know how Everett had been scouting me for a few months last season?” He asked and you nodded “Well, they were continuing to scout me this year, and they offered a contract. They want me to play for them”

A smile broke out on your lips. “That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, I guess,” Carter said half-heartedly

Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw him clearly not super excited about the news. “What’s wrong?”

He let out a sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair. “You do know that Everett is in the States, right?”

Instantly upon hearing that, your smile disappeared “Oh,” You whispered

“So now you know why I’m hesitant of going” He replied and you nodded

“You should still go. You’ll be one step closer to achieving your dream.” You told him

He looked up at you, a soft expression on his face “Are you sure?”

You nodded and then spoke “I’m positive. And plus, most of the NHL teams are in the States. You’d probably have to go there anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” He agreed and then spoke again. “But what will happen to us?”

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle “We’ll still talk. Just because you’re gonna be in another country doesn’ mean we can’t be friends.”

“Good. text and call whenever?”

“Text and call whenever” You agreed

And that’s exactly what you two did. At least to start. The first few weeks after he moved out there, you two were constantly talking on the phone or texting. He would tell you practically everything, from the general summary of the day, to what practice was like, to sometimes even telling you what he ate. Of course, you would do the exact same to him. You would update him on everything that was going on in your life.

However, as Carter stayed in Everett longer and longer, you two began to grow apart. You guys weren’t constantly texting or calling and left out a lot of details when you guys would talk.

Age 18

It was three years after Carter had left for Everett. The two of you didn’t talk much, if at all. Every once in a while, you would see that he would post something on social media, but other than that you had no contact.

You had just wrapped up your freshman year at the University of Alberta and was back at Sherwood Park for summer vacation. Since you hadn’t been back home in a while, you decided to take a trip down memory lane and walk around the neighborhood. For the most part, the walk was relaxing, seeing the familiar sights. However, as soon as you got to a familiar intersection, you froze.

Standing at the corner, you looked across the street to see the familiar house of your childhood best friend. All at once, the memories that you had with him came flooding into your mind. All of the times you would play hide and seek, or color, or have conversations about what you guys thought the future was going to hold. Both of you planned that you would have stayed best friends and would go on adventures for the rest of your lives. Of course, that obviously didn’t happen. The wave of memories slowed down to the point where you could relive each one without interruption of another.

A smile formed on your face as the memories of the times you and Carter would have snowball fights filled your head. Both of you would build massive and elaborate forts to try and protect yourselves against each other but they would usually prove to be useless as you two were too reckless and usually stood out in the open for the majority of the fights.

Once the memories faded away, you were alone by yourself looking at the house across the street. You were left with the same emptiness you had when Carter had left for Everett.

Age 20

It was your winter break from college, and your friend invited you to her house for part of the break. Since you had nothing better to do, you said yes, and so you found yourself flying down to Philadelphia.

One day during your break, your friend told you that she had gotten tickets to the Philadelphia Flyers game. You were ecstatic; you loved hockey and had always wanted to go to an NHL game, and now you finally had the chance to.

Walking into the Wells Fargo Center, you were extremely excited. The smile on your face was never wiped away. You found your seats were behind the net that the Flyers defended during the first and third periods. The two of you barely got to your seats in time to hear the starting lineup for the Flyers, but you’re glad that you did make it.

“In goal, number 79, Carter Hart,” The public address announcer said.

When you heard that, your jaw instantly dropped. There was no way it was the same Carter Hart that you used to be best friends with, right? You had to think that it wasn’t but as soon as the goalie hit the ice, you knew it was him.

Carter skated down the ice to the goal he was going to protect. For some reason, he had a good feeling about this game. As he took off his mask and place it on the top of his net for the national anthem, he looked up at the crowd, and his eyes instantly widened. There was no way it was Y/N; the girl who he used to be best friends with, right? But without a doubt, he knew it was you.

You could have sworn he was looking at you for almost the entirety of the national anthem… or at least you hoped he was. On one hand, you wanted to do something that would get his attention and maybe get him to recognize you. But on the other, you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. He left you five years ago to fulfill his dream and you didn’t want to interfere with his career. So, you decided to stay quiet in your seat.

But Carter had a different idea.

Throughout the game, everything was going relatively normal. Normal penalties, normal scrums, normal goals. However, with less than a minute left in the game, two large workers for the Wells Fargo came up to you and your friends.

“We need you to come with us,” One of them said

Both you and your friend’s eyes widened when you heard what he said. The two of you had done nothing wrong, at least you thought you hadn’t. Nonetheless, you followed the two workers down the tunnel to the concourse.

When they took you to a section that said ‘employees only’ you started to get nervous. Where on Earth were they taking you? Both of you were led down some stairs and down a few hallways until you stopped at a pair of large wooden doors.

“Now we’re gonna have to wait here for a little while, maybe thirty to forty-five minutes,” one of the workers said. Lucky for you, you had nothing to do after the game.

The time went fairly fast, and before you knew it, the wooden doors swung open. As soon as the person walked out, your jaw hit the floor. It was Carter. Your best friend from all those years ago was standing right in front of you. He wrapped his arms around you and his first three words to you were as follows.

“I missed you”

From that point, you knew you wanted to stay in Carter’s life. And just like you, he wanted to stay in yours.

[lovewhatyoudodolan]

Number One Fan || Grayson Dolan

Request: Could ya do an imagine where you’re a really good lacrosse player and one of the boys is your boyfriend coming to watch you? idk where to go from there but its just an idea 🤗

Word Count: 2067

A/N: I’m so glad my roommate plays LAX because I am clueless being a softball player and all haha

MASTERLIST

REQUEST

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d be starting for your universities lacrosse team as a freshman, let alone be named the conference player of the week. Your first game was last week, and did everything in your power to lead your team to victory. After scoring seven goals and assisting on another three, your team won with thirty seconds to spare in the game. 

When you walked on the turf, you knew you were a good player. It was like you were an entirely different person; confident, calculating and even a little cocky. Anywhere else though, you were quiet and usually kept to yourself which surprised most of your teammates. 

Today was game day, so you were awkwardly sitting in your history lecture waiting for the clock to strike twelve. This was your least favorite class this semester, so you just did your best to make it through without falling asleep. 

As the professor turned around, a piece of paper slid onto your desk, and you knew it was your teammate Jesse. She was the other freshman starter, but was a midfielder. ‘have you heard from your boy yet?’ 

You roll your eyes at the question before writing back a simple ’no’. Everyone on your team was obsessed with Grayson. When he visited you last fall for homecoming, you could’ve sworn everyone almost fainted. A few girls on the team followed he and Ethan when they were on vine, and were mad that you hadn’t informed them of your famous boyfriend. 

The thing was, you never found it to be a big deal that you were dating Grayson. You grew up with the twins and Cameron back in New Jersey, even playing lacrosse with Cameron most years. So it never really clicked in your mind that Grayson actually WAS well known around the world now. You still viewed him as that goofy kid from middle and high school.

You flipped your notebook closed as the older professor finished his lecture on the French Revolution. Next semester you would definitely be using rate my professor before choosing any of your classes, because this was ridiculous. 

“I can’t believe you haven’t heard from Grayson yet,” Jesse perked up as the two of you walked out of the cluttered classroom, “He said he was coming this week right?”

You shrug and glance down at your phone in hopes of having a notification. At the mention of Grayson’s supposed visit this week, your stomach dropped. The last time you spoke to the brunette boy was almost a two weeks ago and that worried the hell out of you. Had something happened? Had Grayson changed his mind?

“Y/N?” Jesse brought you out of your dark thoughts causing you to sigh, “Is everything alright between you and Gray?”

“I honestly don’t know Jess,” She pushes the door open so you could walk out of the building, “He’s been so busy lately and every little thing is stressing him out. His constantly traveling isn’t helping either...”

She nods before patting my back, “I heard about the whole Australia trip and how the fans were saying he got this girls number and took her out.”

“It’s just hard to have trust when things like that are circulating,” Your hand comes up to push stray hair out of your face, “I love him but I also don’t want to be played a fool. He’s attractive and girls constantly throw themselves at him...”

Jesse stopped walking and turned to face me, “Grayson loves you. There’s no doubt in my mind when it comes to that. He didn’t waste any time showing that when he visited last semester.”

“A lot can change in a semester though,” You sighed. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to trust Grayson, but sadly rumors got around and some were seemingly TOO accurate.

My teammate was at a loss for words after my comment. She stared at me, jaw opening and closing as she tried to formulate a coherent sentence. “Let’s not focus on him then... You’re about to play a phenomenal game tonight, so just keep your head in the game.”

‘Easier said than done Jesse,’ At this point your head was reeling with thoughts about my missing boyfriend. Since I last saw the brunette, I’ve done a great job hiding my insecurity but this conversation brought all of it out. Grayson could’ve actually hooked up with a number of girls while he’s been away, and I would never know.

A hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality, “I’ll meet you in the lounge at two to head to the fields okay?”

“Yeah sure,” You sign and scan your id to unlock the door to your building. Some days are always harder than others, today was obviously one of those days. You slide your iPhone out of your back pocket, quickly pressing Grayson’s contact only to once again get his voicemail. “Great...”

The walk to your room was silent other than random giggles coming from other rooms on your hall. Since the building you lived in was older, it was common to hear peoples conversations between the thin walls. When you reached your room, you were confused to hear music playing lightly. Last you checked, your roommate had already departed for her spring break trip with her family...

You slammed the door open and felt your heart skip a beat at the familiar brunette boy lying on your small twin bed, “Finally!”

“W-what?” Grayson dropped his phone on your pillow before jumping off the half lofted bed, “Gray?”

A giddy smile was on the boys perfect features as he pulled you into a tight hug, “I’ve been hiding here since you left for your classes earlier. Your roommate snuck me in before she left for the airport.”

So that’s why he wasn’t answering my snaps. “I just called you idiot,” you groan and feel tears brimming your eyes, “God what if something had happened and you hadn’t answered. Damn it Gray...”

“Whoa,” He cups your chin lightly so you were looking him in the eye, “Is something wrong? Why are you crying?”

You swallow down the lump that had formed in the back of your throat before composing yourself, “I’ve been worried sick because you’ve hardly talked to me lately Gray. Jesse almost had be throwing up from worry earlier when she asked if I had heard from you recently...”

A frown etched it’s way onto his features, “I’ve been planning this trip with Ethan for thee last week. Before that I was filming so I could actually make the trip without people wondering where I had run off to. I wanted to be here to support you.”

“God I’m an idiot for worrying so much,” You sigh and hide your face in his chest, “I don’t even know where the thoughts came from Grayson. You’ve never given me a reason to question your loyalty, but all of a sudden I thought you had cheated and were leaving me.”

Gray rubbed loft circles into your lower back, “Not gonna happen. I’m sorry I made you worry, especially when you have a game tonight.”

“I could care less about the game tonight now,” It was nice being back in the boys strong arms, “I’m just glad you’re here.”

He just nods before placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “Well you’re still going to kick ass tonight. I have no doubt in my mind.” You don’t even let him finish before your lips are smashing against his in a eager kiss. Every second he is here, you were going to take advantage of.

--- 

Never in your life had you had such a rough start to a game. Even if this was the best team in your conference, you should’ve been blowing them out of the water. Instead, you were lagging behind on every play occurring. In the first ten minutes, you blatantly missed five passes that you could’ve received in your sleep. 

When your coach called for a time out, you push your mask off your eyes in order to wipe the sweat from your face. Over your teammates shoulders, you could see Grayson sitting anxiously on the bleachers. He knew you hated when games started like this, and he also could tell you were frustrated with your playing.

“Y/L/N are you going to be able to pick yourself back up, or do you need me to swap you out with Laney?” Your grip on your stick tightened at your coaches words. Laney was one of the other attack players, but since she never showed up to practice anymore she didn’t play. 

There was no way in hell you were going to let her walk onto the turf, “I’m good coach.” It was as if a switch flipped after that meeting. You and Jesse were the perfect team as she would continuously pass the ball to you in order to make goals. If your shot was blocked, you’d pass back to her in order to find a new position. 

As you made yet another goal, Jesse jumped on your back in excitement due to the sudden comeback. “Y/N you’re kicking some major ass!”

“I guess,” I chuckle and dump the girl off onto the ground, “Let’s get this last goal before we celebrate though.”

There was only a minute left in the half, so this was the teams last chance to steal the win away without going into overtime. “Kick their ass!” Grayson’s voice drowned everything out as your head snapped towards him. The entire crowd was watching the famous boy as well, some even taking out their phones to snap a picture “Go Y/N!”

You just nod and wait for your team to get possession of the ball once more, and with the way Jesse was playing that day it didn’t take long. The blonde quickly cradled a throw from one of our defensive players before passing it to you. 

“Here we go...” Without a moments hesitation, you threw for the goal. As soon as the goalie took a wrong step, you knew it was going in. You dropped your stick on the ground for inspection and ran off towards Jesse to pull the girl into a hug. “I can’t believe we came back.”

“I can’t believe you pulled your head out of your ass so quickly,” She joked before the rest of your team ran over to hug the two of you as well. When the ref approved the goal the crowd went wild, and the buzzer went off signalling that the game was over. 

Since the game went in your favor, your coach didn’t keep the team in the locker room long. You quickly took a shower and changed before returning to Grayson who was now waiting in your car. “You kicked some serious ass our there babe. I’m so proud of you.”

“Gray the entire crowd was watching you,” It was like the high from the game had completely wore off and the reality of the situation was setting in. No one knew you were dating Grayson, and now that people knew he was watching a LAX game at your university questions would begin circulating.

He scratches the back of his neck lightly before biting his lip. “Yeah... I was thinking about that.”

“What the hell are we going to do?” Worry was etched into your features by now as you stared the boy in your passenger seat down. “Someone is bound to figure it out.”

He shrugs, “I was thinking we could just make the announcement, but that’s totally up to you since it’s your right to have privacy.”

“I...” Of all things you weren’t expecting Grayson to suggest going public. Honestly, it would make things for you two easier if you were. At the same time though, it could be a living hell due to the amount of publicity that would be shining in your direction. “Is that what you want?”

He nods, “Only if you want to though.”

You sigh before smiling at the happy brunette next to you, “Grayson you mean a lot to me and this is your life. I want to be apart of it as much as I can.”

“So... Is that a yes?”

“That’s a hell yes.”

---

GraysonDolan: Guess you could say I’ve known her for awhile... @y/u/n #yesiamtaken

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot - “As Long as We’re Together” (Rated PG)

Kurt and Blaine meet over summer vacation on the beach as children and start a relationship that grows during the three months a year they spend together. Eventually, they fall in love. But is that love enough to erase their differences and allow them to stay together? (3410 words)

A/N: This is another re-write. Warning for light angst. 

Read on AO3.

“What’s your favorite color?” Blaine asks, jabbing the hard-packed sand with the edge of his shovel.

Kurt bites his lip, searching up and down the beach for help with his answer.

“Okay” - he points to where the ocean stretches into the horizon – “do you see that line of blue out there? Not exactly the water, but not exactly the sky? Kind of hovering in between?”

Blaine scooches closer to Kurt to see what he sees.

“Do you mean with the shimmery bits of silver in it?”

“Yup,” Kurt confirms, nodding his head. "That’s my favorite color. But it’s rare. You can only see it at sunrise and sunset."

Blaine giggles, returning his attention to his shovel as he continues to dig in the sand, hiding the flush rising to his cheeks.

“It’s the same color as your eyes,” Blaine remarks, careful not to look back at his new friend.

Kurt’s eyes pop open in surprise.

“Really?” He smiles bashfully. “I---I didn’t know that.”

Blaine nods. “Can you guess my favorite color?”

Kurt examines Blaine, from the sandy curls falling into his face to the soles of his shoes. He’s wearing red boat shoes. His socks are white with red stripes. His red denim shorts match his red windbreaker perfectly. He fidgets, shoveling wet sand with a red shovel into a red bucket.

“Um … red?” Kurt ventures.

Blaine’s jaw drops in awe. “Yeah! How’d you know?”

Kurt shrugs. “Lucky guess.”

“Blaine!” A tall, brunette woman walks onto the beach, scanning the shoreline with her hand shielding her eyes. Kurt flees behind the safety of some large rocks jutting up from the sand. The woman catches sight of her son sitting alone, building sand castles just out of the reach of the waves. “Blaine! It’s time to go!”

“Okay, mom!” Blaine calls as the woman walks away. “Come on, Kurt!” He beckons his friend with a wave of his hand. “Come meet my mom!”

“I … I can’t.” Kurt stays close to the rocks, trying to make himself smaller and unnoticeable. “My dad … he wouldn’t like it.”

“Oh.” Blaine’s bright smile slips. “Wh-when will I see you again? We’re leaving the beach house tonight.”

Kurt’s face falls. “I live not too far from here. I guess … will I see you next summer?”

“Yeah,” Blaine answers glumly. “But, that’s an awfully long time.”

“Yeah. It is.” Kurt doesn’t want to cry, but he’s never had a real friend before, and he feels like he’s losing the only one he will ever have. “You won’t forget me?”

Blaine holds up his pinkie and struggles to smile.

“Pinkie promise I won’t … if you don’t forget me?”

Kurt links their pinkies together and offers a sad smile back.

“I won’t forget you, Blaine. I promise.”

***

“So, there I was, running down the field, my ankle screaming in agony, when I saw my chance …” Blaine bounces on the balls of his feet, recreating his epic, game-winning goal while Kurt sits in the sand, fascinated by every word. “That fool of a goalie thought I was going to shoot to the left, but then I faked him out and shot to the right, and then …”

“Score!” Kurt cheers, laughing with his hands thrown triumphantly in the air. “Wow! I wish I’d been there to see it!”

“Yeah.” Blaine plops down on the sand beside his friend. He picks up a handful of stones and starts throwing them absently into the water. “Afterwards, there was this big party, with music, and dancing … a-and girls …”

“Girls?” Kurt’s eyes open wide. In the last six summers, Kurt has never heard Blaine mention girls. Kurt had secretly hoped that Blaine wasn’t interested in girls, but he knew that the chances of a handsome boy like Blaine - with his piercing hazel eyes, his increasingly muscular build, and his devil-may-care smile - being interested in someone like him was unrealistic.

“Yeah.” Blaine doesn’t look at Kurt while he speaks, following the trail of the stones as they skip across the water.

“Well … uh … was there anyone … you know … in particular … you liked?” Kurt asks, trying to sound unconcerned as he picks up his own handful of stones and starts tossing them in the water.

“There was this one girl …” The next stone that leaves Blaine’s hands doesn’t skip. It lands in the water with a plop and sinks straight to the bottom. “She’s pretty, I guess, blonde, all the boys like her. She developed really early …”

Kurt nods while he listens, gripping on to one of the stones in his hand until he thinks his skin will bleed.

“She wanted to kiss me.” Blaine takes in Kurt’s profile in the light of the setting sun and swallows hard, confused by how he feels for his beautiful, elegant friend, who seems like he would be as much at home in Blaine’s gated neighborhood, in some of the finest houses in Ohio, as he does sitting on this humble, private beach.

“Did you kiss her?” Kurt finally looks at Blaine, sighing in despair at the thought of Blaine’s plump, rosy lips kissing some over-developed pre-teen tart.

“No,” Blaine admits. “No, I---I didn’t.”

Kurt’s heart leaps in his chest, but he fights the urge to cheer, or let Blaine know how he feels. There are a dozen reasons why Blaine might not have kissed that particular girl.

Nothing in the world means it had anything to do with him.

“Why not?” Kurt asks, desperate to know whether or not he has anything to hope for. If he doesn’t, he wants his heart broken now so that it has an entire winter to mend before he sees Blaine again.

“Because … because I didn’t want to.” Blaine’s answer is simple, but Kurt can tell there’s so much behind it. So much he’s leaving unsaid.

Fear.

Confusion.

Pain, even.

“Oh.” Kurt’s short answer feels the same.

Blaine moves closer to Kurt, gazing out at the darkening water before he speaks again.

“Would it be weird,” Blaine starts, his voice quivering slightly, “if I wanted to kiss you instead?”

Kurt sucks in a quick breath and holds it, barely believing that this could be real.

“No,” he says, shaking his head for emphasis. “No, I … I don’t think it’s weird.”

Blaine and Kurt curl towards one another, but they don’t move for a long time. They stare into each other’s eyes, almost daring the other to lean in first. But a moment comes when kissing each other seems like the only option, and both boys move together. Blaine tilts his head to the right, his eyes locked on his friend, wondering if he’ll balk and turn away, but Kurt is filled with so much joy, he knows that the second Blaine’s lips touch his, his heart will explode. The sun is barely glowing gold over the calm waters of the Atlantic when Blaine’s lips finally meet Kurt’s. They slide together, Blaine’s parting just enough to accommodate Kurt’s trembling lower lip. Kurt’s cheeks burn red, and he wonders if Blaine has thought about this as much as he has.

Kurt doesn’t want Blaine to pull away. He doesn’t want this beautiful moment to end, like their summer together is swiftly ending. But all moments pass, good and bad. Blaine looks into Kurt’s face, his smile warm, his eyes shining in what’s left of the sunlight reflecting off the water.

“That was … nice,” he says, straightening and returning to his spot.

Kurt sighs. “It was.”

Blaine faces the water, watching the light creep away, but Kurt can’t turn away. He wants to remember every second of their time together until goodbye.

The months in between summers seem to be getting longer as they grow older.

“Blaine?”

“Yeah, Kurt?”

“I’m … I’m going to miss you.”

Blaine reaches an arm around Kurt’s torso and pulls him close, shifting to let Kurt rest his head on his shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you, too.”

***

“Blaine!” Kurt calls, waving when he sees Blaine crest the dune. He’s been wading waist deep in the swelling tide for over an hour, waiting for his best friend to join him. “You had me worried! I thought you weren’t going to show up this summer!”

“I couldn’t do that,” Blaine says, a nostalgic smile tugging his lips. “You’re too important to me.”

Kurt watches his friend, dressed in crisp blue jeans and a red polo, shift his weight nervously from foot to foot to stay out of reach of the water. Kurt didn’t expect this welcome. He’d expected Blaine to kick off his shoes and leap into the surf, throw his arms around him and kiss him - the same way he has every summer since he was thirteen. But Blaine has his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes settled sadly on Kurt’s face, an expression deep within like he’s not saying hello.

He’s saying goodbye.

“Wh-what is it?” Kurt asks, fear climbing up his racing heart to claw at his throat. “What’s wrong?”

“I … I came here to see you, Kurt, but … I’m not staying this summer.” Blaine’s eyes fall to his bare feet, dusted with sand. “I just came down here to tell you that.”

“Wha—why?” Kurt asks, sinking into the rising water.

“I’m on my way to New York,” Blaine announces with a proud but sheepish smile. “I’ve been accepted to Julliard.”

Kurt’s face lights up with genuine excitement, but it’s a mask, one that hides the shattering of his heart. “That’s … that’s wonderful, Blaine! Congratulations! That’s what you’ve always wanted!”

“Yeah, it is.”

Kurt’s excitement dims as a thought scrolls through his head. “But … school doesn’t start for another couple of months. Why can’t you stay the summer? I don’t … I don’t understand.”

“They have this program,” Blaine explains, his own excitement bubbling anew. It didn’t seem real to him when he found out. It didn’t even seem real when he told his parents and his grandparents about it. But telling his best friend suddenly makes it so, because Kurt has always made everything in Blaine’s life seem so wonderful, so alive. “It’s very exclusive – only twenty students total get to attend, and of those, only one new freshman. And I … I’m that freshman, Kurt! Can you believe it! I check in to the dorms tomorrow!”

“That’s amazing!” Kurt fights to keep his disappointment from his voice. Blaine looks so happy – happier than Kurt has ever seen him. He doesn’t want to take that away from him. He smiles again, and when he feels it tremble at the corners, he smiles harder. “You’ll have to tell me all about it next summer!”

And here Kurt succeeds in doing the one thing he’d been trying not to do. Blaine’s smile disappears, and his eyes return to his feet. “I … I don’t know that I’ll be back next summer. I’ve signed up to study abroad. If I get selected, I’ll be spending two years in Europe at least. To be honest, I … I don’t know when I’ll be back. I---I promise I’ll come back, it’s just …” Blaine’s eyes return to Kurt’s face when he hears his friend gasp. The pain in Kurt’s eyes finally registers, and Blaine’s heart aches from the conflict of positive and negative emotions surging through him. “B---but I can put that off a year. I’m only a freshman, after all. I have my whole life to …”

“Blaine, don’t be ridiculous,” Kurt cuts in. “We talked about this. Your freshman year of high school, you gave me fair warning. Your junior year, it was all you talked about when you were here. Don’t make any rash decisions on my account. I knew what to expect.”

Kurt knew what to expect, but he wasn’t ready. During the summer before Blaine’s senior year, when the thrill of enrolling at Julliard seemed to peter off, Kurt had fooled himself into believing that things had changed, that what Blaine wanted had changed. Blaine would often wax romantic about their beach and their summers together, and Kurt thought that Blaine might consider applying to a college a little more local, where they could still spend their summers together – maybe even more. But, realistically, Kurt knew that wasn’t going to happen. He and Blaine aren’t the same. They aren’t even remotely close. Like it or not, Kurt’s whole life is here. He doesn’t have Blaine’s education or his connections. He doesn’t have access to the opportunities Blaine has.

When their friendship started, on the second summer Blaine came to the beach, Kurt knew it was a blessing. But every year after that, he expected to come to the beach and end up alone. Now, it’s finally happening.

At least Blaine had the curtesy to say goodbye.

“I … I don’t know what to say, Kurt, except thank you. Thank you for understanding.” Blaine pulls his hands out of his pockets and takes a step towards the water. “I have to leave in a few minutes to catch my train. My mom’s waiting for me in the car with the motor running. But I was hoping maybe … would you give me a hug goodbye?”

“I … I can’t.” Kurt backs away, knowing that if he puts his arms around Blaine, he’ll never let him go. “I … I’m all wet and sandy. And I don’t want to get you messed up. That would make your train trip miserable.”

“Oh. Okay,” Blaine says, his hands returning to his pockets. “Goodbye, Kurt. I’ll … I’ll see you.”

“Goodbye, Blaine.” Kurt can’t summon a smile for Blaine this time, even though he wants to. He doesn’t want Blaine’s last memory of him to be of him staring after him like a long lost puppy. He doesn’t know how, or when, he will ever smile again, but he never will if he has to watch Blaine walk away. So he turns his back to Blaine and looks out towards the sunset, trying to figure out what he should do now.

Blaine starts up the beach, but something pulls at him, like the tide pulls the water, reeling it back into the ocean. It’s a feeling that one of the best things in his life is ending. And even though he promised Kurt, and himself, that they would see one another again, it feels too much like forever.

This chapter in his life is closing faster than he can stop it, and the ending kind of sucks.

Blaine turns back, hoping that when he sees Kurt, he’ll figure out something to say that will make everything all right, something that will give Kurt more reassurance. He’ll leap into the water the way he should have, wrap his arms around Kurt’s body, and kiss him, give him a proper goodbye.

Make things the way they were again.

But Kurt, who’d been watching the sun set with tears in his eyes, is gone.

***

“Blaine! No! I … I can’t! This will never work! You know it won’t!”

Kurt buries his head in his hands so he won’t have to see the beautiful ring Blaine holds beneath his nose, or the look of love and hope glowing in his eyes. Blaine is asking for the impossible, and Kurt wishes he could give it to him. But he can’t. There’s no way.

And it’s driving swords through his body, tearing apart his heart for a second time in his life.

Blaine hears Kurt’s words, but he refuses to accept them, not when he knows how much Kurt loves him. He takes one of Kurt’s hands and pries it from his face, longing for a glimpse of those silver-blue eyes that captured his imagination so long ago, when Blaine was six and Kurt was seven, and everything seemed simple – life and friendship, happiness and love. It’s out there for them; Blaine knows it. Even if it doesn’t exist anywhere else in the world, it’s there for them on that beach. It blossomed every summer, even after that one horrible day when Blaine left and didn’t come back … not for four long years. It wasn’t an easy four years. It was filled with loneliness, heartsickness; every day felt like a knife stabbing him in the foot with every step he took that didn’t bring him back to Kurt.

But now that he’s there, the pain is gone, and all he feels is immense and undying love for the man before him, shaking his head and begging for Blaine to let him go.

“Tell me you don’t love me,” Blaine says, holding Kurt’s hand over his heart. “Tell me you haven’t thought about me every day that we’ve been apart. Tell me you didn’t come up to this beach every summer in the hopes that I’d be here, and I’ll leave now. I’ll leave and never come back.”

Kurt wants to say it. It would be for Blaine’s own good if he could. But he can’t while he’s looking in Blaine’s eyes. He tries to focus past them, but when he does, his gaze falls on the platinum engagement ring Blaine is holding, its three perfect diamonds winking at Kurt in the setting sun.

“B--but … but we’re so different,” he says with regret. “So much more now than we used to be.”

“I don’t think so,” Blaine counters. “I don’t believe that at all.”

“You have dreams, Blaine. Big dreams. Dreams you deserve. Dreams I can’t be a part of. That’s why you left, right?”

“The biggest dream I have, Kurt, has you in it,” Blaine says, kissing Kurt gently on the lips before he has a chance to turn away. “And I don’t want to give that dream up. It’s the only one I’m afraid I’ll never get back if I do.”

Kurt drops his other hand from his face, staring at Blaine with the full force of both prismatic eyes. He needs to come up with some way to object, to push Blaine away for good. But the more Blaine presses his lips to Kurt’s, the more he runs his fingertips lightly over Kurt’s shoulders and up the nape of his neck, the more he whispers, “Kurt, I love you. Marry me”, the more Kurt’s resolve starts to dissolve. It turns into foam on the waves and retreats into the sea. In the touch of Blaine’s fingertips and the gentle caress of his lips around the contours of Kurt’s cheeks, Kurt begins to believe what Blaine thinks possible – a life for the two of them. And whatever the future holds, they’ll figure it out together. As long as they love each other, the rest is just details.

Blaine raises a questioning eyebrow, and Kurt nods, this time letting Blaine slip the ring onto his finger. Kurt gazes at the metal band as Blaine wraps his arms around his fiancé and holds him tight.

“Do you really think this will work?” Kurt asks, doubtful for a little while longer.

“Kurt, I finally have my trust fund. We’ll want for nothing. There are tons of places in the world where we can go where no one will ever see us. Or we can stay here, on this beach. I’ll buy us a house with private access to the water. Or we can live on a yacht in the middle of the ocean. Whatever you want. As long as we’re together, nothing else matters, Kurt.”

Kurt laughs uncomfortably. He wants to be as optimistic as Blaine, but he doesn’t see how he can. They’re two very different people. Worlds apart, one might say.

Is love enough to render those differences meaningless?

Kurt shakes his head, but Blaine puts a hand to Kurt’s cheek, and their eyes meet.

“As long as we’re together,” Blaine repeats. “Nothing is impossible.”

And with the intensity of faith in Blaine’s golden eyes, Kurt finally knows for sure. He fans his tail out in front of him, shimmering blue scales catching the last of the late afternoon sun. The rising tide surrounds them, offering his skin relief from the harsh grit of the sand. The wide ocean sings to him, but he won’t be returning home to it tonight.

Kurt sighs, watching his new life write itself within the depths of Blaine’s eyes. “As long as we’re together.”

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

The FRIDAY THE 13TH That Never Was [Screenplay Summary]

New Post has been published on https://nofspodcast.com/friday-13th-script-nick-antosca/

The FRIDAY THE 13TH That Never Was [Screenplay Summary]

The horror community was delivered a great blow earlier this year after Paramount Pictures and Platinum Dunes announced the cancellation of Friday the 13th Part 13. Planned for release this Friday the 13th, the bad news came just before production was set to begin. Supposedly, the decision came after the box office results of Rings (2017) but fans still hope the success of Friday The 13th The Game may help revive the project. Attached to the ill-fated project was screenwriter Aaron Guzikowski (Prisoners, Contraband), but there was another script circulating two years earlier that from Channel Zero creator and Hannibal writer, Nick Antosca. Shortly after the film was axed, Antosca tweeted that the script had found it’s way online.

Drilling straight for the mainline, he strikes gold in his re-imagining of what a Friday The 13th film could be after almost 40 years of terrorizing teens at Camp Crystal Lake. Avoiding any attempts to expand or explain Jason’s origin, Antosca’s Friday The 13th: 3-D, throws fans back into the 80’s with a picture-perfect slasher that feels as at home in the era as it does in the genre. The script contains more direction and camera movement than your average screenplay, but only in service of explaining the mood and look of the film he is narrating. Antosca’s voice is that of a life-long horror fan (like yourself) who was given the opportunity of a lifetime, and wanted nothing more than to write the best Friday the 13th possible. I’m of the opinion that this might have been one of the strongest installments in the franchise, and I was completely on board at Page 1.

Opening on a gorgeous sunny day, the last day of summer camp 1988, as our counselors narrowly save a young boy from drowning before partying the night away. Naturally, there is some sexual tension, mild drug use, and a foreboding tale of a murder-most-foul. Lead by Frank (the groundskeeper) the counselors head across the lake to take a quick look the creepy, abandoned campground of the original Camp Crystal Lake. And in a foolish display of teenage rebellion, Greg (our smart, immature jock) curses Pamela Voorhees at the top of his lungs- loud enough for anything (or anyone) in the woods to hear him…

Desperate for a little alone time, the couples decide to split-up to get a better look of the camp. Greg finds a familiar hockey mask, Frank stares into the woods, and Sloane takes a bracelet she finds buried in the dust. When they regroup, Frank is gone *gasp* and the second canoe is nowhere to be seen. Rather than make two trips for everyone to arrive safely, Dylan and Vanessa opt to walk back through the woods. BUT WHAT HAPPENED TO FRANK??!? After a quick delay in a gazebo to “stay out of the rain” we follow Dylan and Vanessa separately after they split-up on their way home. Taunting us with both as potential victims, we cut back and forth between the two, unsure of who is about to come face-to-face with certain death. SPOILER ALERT! It’s Dylan. Bye-bye Dylan.

The next morning, back at camp, the counselors are waking up in various stages of undress, getting ready to face the day. Vanessa spots a figure watching her as she showers but she and Kevin hit a dead end following the muddy boot prints that lead away from the showers. Getting on with their counselor duties, the group puts on a quick show for the parents arriving to collect their kids, and begin the process of closing up the camp for the season. The counselors head into town for supplies, and to report Vanessa’s forest-dwelling stalker to Sheriff John. Of course, he’s no help but they do meet a nice, but possibly crazy, older woman with one arm that knows all about “Lunch-Lady Pam”

Back at the camp, Head Counselor Ian Duckworth and Nurse Nicole are smoking weed as they play a few rounds of Strip Go-Fish. On his way back from pinching some of Weezer’s secret stash, Duckworth comes upon a hulking figure peering through Nurse Nicole’s window. Duckworth tries to shoo him away with the first thing at arm’s reach, only to find himself at the business end of his own shovel while The Talking Head’s “Sax & Violins” plays overtop.

  When the troop returns to camp they get to work building a campfire, unfazed by Duckworth’s absence. Vanessa doesn’t feel safe staying that the camp but no one is that interested in leaving just yet, so the boys raid the sports shed for anything closely resembling a weapon. To Vanessa’s dismay, Dylan never shows up to say goodbye. The night progresses as last nights at summer camp always do, and we watch the group from someone’s POV (Point of View) as they counselors let off steam. Weezer heads out to the water slide for one last bowl as everyone crawls toward bed, for a variety of reasons. As the sun rises on a new day, we see that Weezer has spent the entire night smoking dope before heading into the water for an early morning dip.

Kevin and Sloane wake up in each others arms and Sloane tells Kevin about the nightmare she had during the night. She dreamed it was raining, only the rain turned to blood covering the entire camp. And then…he appeared. The boy that drowned years ago. They split up to get ready for breakfast but Kevin soon calls everyone out of their cabins when he discovers Weezer’s body by the shoreline. Everyone immediately heads for the truck only to realize Brad and Amber are across the camp taking down the archery range. Shit! Just as they are planning the fastest, safest way to collect Brad and Amber, Kirby asks a very unsettling question: Why is there a goalie over there?

Cutting between the group fighting for their lives, Amber & Brad’s emotional break-up, and Nurse Nicole sound asleep, the camp is chaotic. Scattered, looking for keys and clinging to life, the group looks on in horror as Brad and Amber make their way back to camp, unaware of what awaits them. They narrowly escape, thanks to Nurse Nicole’s blind charge into the mess hall expecting breakfast, finding only swift and certain death. After collecting the keys from Greg’s body, they crash the car trying to run Jason over on their way out. Amber is picked from inside the car as though she were at the bottom of  jar of olives. Jason crushes her head with his bare hands, and the rest of team run back to the camp looking for safety.

After a brief tussle with Brad and an axe, Jason staggers back into the woods. Expecting him back any minute, Brad, Vanessa, and Sloane try to coax Kirby back from the floating dock she’s been hiding on because, ya know, no man left behind and whatnot. But Jason returns- and he’s got a pretty good idea the girl he’d hoped had drowned in the lake is hiding somewhere. Kirby looks on in horror as Jason walks deeper and deeper into the lake until only a single trail of bubbles disappears under the dock. Kirby musters up the courage to dive off, and tries to swim for shore….tries.

The remaining counselors (Brad, Sloane, Vanessa) have no choice. They have to walk through the woods, past the old Camp Crystal Lake, to get to the main road and escape. No sooner do they make it onto the old grounds does Jason come barreling through the woods after them. In a hurried race for their lives, they happen upon an old, unkempt house. Linda King (the one-armed local) answers the door and ushers them inside to call 911. Hooray! While Vanessa screams into the phone, Linda can’t help but notice the bracelet Sloane is wearing. Where did you get that? she asks, but before she can answer, Jason has broken into the house!

Brad is tired of running, and the police are still on their way. The three grab everything they can to fight this unknown force of nature stalking them but nothing phases him. Brad plunges his axe deep into Jason’s back but it barely slows him down. Linda tries to shoot him point-bank with a shotgun only to be beaten with her own prosthetic arm. They hit and stab and shoot Jason with everything they have and gradually, he weakens.

The police and paramedics arrive soon after. Vanessa, Brad, and Sloane are swept away for assessment while the police walk around the crime scene. Coroners are lifting Jason’s body into the morgue van as Sloane tries to make sense of the crazed massacre. The police assure them that their attacker is most certainly dead as the morgue van pulls away in the background. The police think the Voorhees boy is tall-tale, nothing more than a spooky story, but Sloane knows in her bones that the nameless killer stalking them is none other than…

In broad daylight, Jason hacks his way through dozens of police officers, innocents standers-by, and tragically, Brad. Unfortunately his skull was no match for Jason’s new bone-saw, but his death does give Sloane and Vanessa time to duck away. Sloane traps herself in the backseat of a police cruiser, but when Vanessa attempts to free her Jason sneaks up behind her, bashing her skull against the roof. Sloane is ripped from the car, helpless and defenseless, but a thought occurs to her as she stands before this towering giant.

Jason is grotesque, baby-like and full of blood thirsty rage. but just before he can squeeze the life out of her, BAM! BAM! Vanessa appears with a shotgun to save the day. Our Final Girls both know he’s only down temporary and waste no time hijacking a squad car to ride off into the sunset away from this nightmare.

  Fin.

[melaniepossible]

Kim Possible meets the Boston Bruins

If there's any typos or anything, please don't criticize Kim Possible Meets the Boston Bruins By me 3/7/17-3/9/17 It's a nice sunny day in Middleton. A group of male voices can be heard nearby. First voice: wow this is definitely different from Boston. Second voice *sarcastically*: well we are in Middleton. First voice: thank you captain obvious. Anyways, I think we should enjoy ourselves before we head to practice later today. The guys head towards the mall that is a short walk from the park. As soon as they enter, three of them have their jaws gaped. Melanie walks by, not knowing. One of the guys walks in front. First voice: Brad, David, and Tuukka, close your mouths. Show some decency. Brad: oh come on Patrice. David P.: she is gorgeous *stares at her*. Tuukka: wow. *turns to face Patrice* what? Patrice *shakes his head*: you guys are crazy. The three continue to watch her walk away as the rest of the guys sit at the benches nearby. Obviously not wanting to take part in any of their shenanigans. After a few minutes, Brad jumps up. Brad: hey Pasta, Tuuks, let's follow her. David P. and Tuukka *jumping excitably out of their seats*: yeah. Before Patrice or any of the other guys could say a word, the three take off. Another guy gets up. Patrice *shaking his head*: boy, wish they were this excited about practice, right Torey? Torey *chuckles*: can't help it. She is pretty. I can see why. Up ahead, Melanie senses there are people behind her. She tenses and turns around. Her senses stand corrected, as usual, as she sees three guys staring at her. She raises an eyebrow and sees more guys following suit only not as fast. Melanie *skeptical*: uhm. Hi? Brad runs up to her with a big grin. Brad *slightly flirtatious*: hi. I'm Brad. But I'm sure you know me. He winks. Melanie steps back then notices David P. approaching her. David P.: don't mind him. I'm David. *smiles*. Melanie *looks at Tuukka and sees him blushing*: and you are? Tuukka *stumbles*: I. I uhm. Am. Uh. *places a hand behind his head and avoids looking at her* h-hi. Melanie *laughs*: nice to meet you "Hi." Brad *turns her to face him*: anyways. Do you recognize who we are? Melanie *shakes head no*: uh no. Not really. David P.: what?!? We are part of the best hockey team in town! Well hockey league I should say. We are some of the players of the Boston Bruins! *turns to Tuukka* oh. That's Tuukka by the way. Melanie *eyes widen and faces him*: wait. Tuukka? The Tuukka Rask?! The best goalie in the entire hockey world? Brad and David P. look at each other, kinda bummed that they aren't getting noticed. Tuukka *smiles and puffs out his chest proudly a little*: why yes I am. Melanie *smiles*: it's an honor to meet you. I'm a goalie too! Well. For a different sport. Tuukka: oh yeah? Melanie: for soccer. I'm the best in the league. Not to brag. Before anyone else could speak, Patrice and the rest of the gang catch up. Patrice: sorry about that. Melanie: it's ok. *tries not to blush as she sees how handsome he is and thinks: oh my god! Wow. Stay cool Melanie*. David P.: oh my god! Now I recognize you! You're Melanie Possible! The world famous supermodel! Melanie: yes I am. Brad: don't mind them. *smiles at her* I'm the better looking one. Melanie *scoffs teasingly*: yeah. Right. David P.: oh. I think we should introduce ourselves. Melanie: oh wait. I think I have heard of you guys. I think you're rivals to the Middleton Mad Dogs hockey team. Patrice: yeah. They are our divisional rivals. Melanie: I see, but feel free to introduce yourselves. Brad *suave and flirtatious*: I'll go first. Tuukka glares as Brad flirts with her but tries not to make it obvious. Brad: I'm Brad Marchand, I'm a left wing forward. And this is- David P.: I think we can introduce ourselves just fine Brad. Brad: hey hey just trying to help. After everyone introduced themselves, Patrice looks at the time. Patrice: guys, we should get going. Don't want Claude to get mad. Of course Brad, David P. and Tuukka expressed a sad sigh together before getting ready to follow suit. But before the three follow to catch up, Brad and Tuukka stay behind. David P. follows the rest of the guys, thinking the other two are following. Melanie starts to walk in the other direction towards one of her work places. Brad: hey, I'm going out with her. Not you. Tuukka: no way man. Brad: she was totally checking me out. Tuukka: you keep telling yourself that. I have a way better chance with her than you. She and I are goalies. Brad *scoffs*: pfft. Yeah right. Haha. Before the two could continue, at the corner of their eyes, they see Melanie walk out of a store, flip her long jet black hair with red highlights and blue side bangs to the side and doesn't notice that the two are staring, clearly love stricken. Brad and Tuukka *at the same time*: I think I'm in love. The two stop and stare at each other. Brad: what the heck man? Tuukka: what? Brad: she's gonna be with me. You're just gonna have to deal with it. Tuukka: yeah right. She was staring at me. Brad: you kn- Patrice *calls out*: guys come on! We gotta go! Brad *stares at Melanie*: dang. I wanna watch her some more. Tuukka *dreamy*: me too. She's so beautiful. The two sulk towards the rest of the guys and head off. *scene changes to Club Banana* Melanie: hey Kim. Hey Monique. Kim: hey Melanie. Monique: hey girl. Ron walks over to her, angry and points a finger in her face. Ron: who was just talking to you? Melanie *scowls, angry and puts his hand down*: it'd be wise to keep your hand away from my face unless you want a broken wrist. Kim: Melanie. No violence. Melanie *rolls her eyes and scoffs*: really Kim! Ron: who was that!! Melanie: relax. It was just a couple of guys from a hockey team. Kim: oh. Which one? Melanie *shrugs*: the Boston Bruins. Ron *gasps*: wait. The Boston Bruins? Melanie *sarcastic*: uhm yeah. Ron: they're our biggest rivals! We play against them in a few days! You're fraternizing with the enemy! Melanie *laughs and sarcastically*: wow. Ron learned a new word. And he used it correctly. *pats his head* so proud of you. Sorry. No treats for you. Kim *shakes her head*: is it that difficult to be nice for once? Melanie: what? I'm not allowed to talk to them? Ron: they're our most hated rivals MP. Melanie: I met the guys. They seem nice. Some of them even looked cute. She smiles as she thinks of them, especially Patrice. Kim and Monique stand there, eyes as big as moons as they look at Melanie then back at each other, then back at Melanie. Shocked to hear what she just said. Melanie: what? Kim: I've never heard you say that before. Monique: ever! About any guy. Kim: which guys? Melanie: well Tuukka is cute, he was blushing a lot. Brad has a nice smile, and Patrice is handsome. *smiles as she thinks of him*. Ron can't help but feel a jealous rage taking over. He clenches his fists and mutters revenge. As the day draws to a close, Melanie walks over to the arena where the Bruins are practicing. She walks inside and stands by the door. She smiles as she watches the boys play. After a short time, one of the guys takes notice and heads off the ice. One could easily guess who it is. Brad *flirtatious*: hello beautiful. Melanie *raises an eyebrow and smirks*: really Brad? Brad *chuckles*: hey. Can't blame a guy for trying. He wraps an arm around her and leads her over to the rink as if to show her off to the rest of the team as if she's his girlfriend. Not too long after, Tuukka looks up, sees what's happening and glares at Brad. Unfortunately he pays a little too much attention and he doesn't hear a warning from one of the guys. Ryan: hey Tuukka! You paying attention? *takes slapshot*. Tuukka at the last minute jolts into position but it's too late and the puck ends up in the net. Brad *shakes his head*: tsk tsk tsk. He should be paying attention. Melanie *takes off his arm and laughs awkwardly*: yeah. Sure. Brad: he's jealous. Melanie: oh? Brad: he doesn't have what it takes to be your man. Melanie *raises an eyebrow*: oh really? And you do? Brad *smirks teasingly*: of course sweetheart. *flexes a little muscle in his jersey*. This is just a preview. I'll gladly show you more if you like *winks*. Melanie *short laugh*: I see. *walks away, flips her hair, looks at Tuukka and calls out* I still think you're doing a great job! Tuukka smiles and tries to hide the fact he's blushing bright red under his mask. He doesn't want the other guys taking notice. Tuukka *stammers*: t-thanks Melanie. Brad *yells*: hey you can stop blushing now bro! Tuukka *alarmed*: hey hey! I'm not blushing. Some of the guys snicker. Brad: it's painfully obvious Tuuks. Melanie *giggles*: that's so cute. Brad snaps his head back at her, shocked. Brad: y-you think that's cute? Melanie: well yeah. Brad: I can blush too. Melanie: mhm sure. David P. skates over. David P.: hi sweetie. Brad: back off Pasta, she's mine. David P.: oh really? Since when? Not long after, Tuukka skates over. Tuukka *flips up his mask and smiles at her*: hey. Melanie *smiles*: hey. David P. and Brad stand there, dumbfounded. David P.: uh. What's happening? Patrice skates over. Patrice: really? We have a huge game in a few days guys. We REALLY need to focus. Brad *carefully places his arm around Melanie's waist and pulls her close*: I know Bergy. We will crush those dogs. Melanie: oof. Melanie starts to feel uncomfortable as Brad starts to look at her with a smirk. The more she tries to escape from his grasp, the tighter he holds her. She feels Tuukka's glare piercing her skin like daggers only she thinks it's towards Brad. This is so awkward, she thinks. Melanie: uhm Brad? Brad *sweetly*: yes gorgeous? Melanie *struggles from his grasp*: any chance you wanna let me go? Brad *sad*: aw why? Melanie: you're kinda killing me. Instead of letting her go, he lessens his grip. Melanie: uhm. You don't have to hold me like that. Tuukka: dude really? What the heck! Brad: what? I lessened my grip on her. Melanie *struggles and eventually breaks free from his arms*: thank god. *walks over to Tuukka* so I was doing a little digging on you guys. First in the division with Middleton a point behind. You're first in the league with a lot of shut outs and wins. That's impressive. Tuukka *turns red, looks away shyly and smiles*: yeah we are pretty awesome. Been going on a good winning streak lately and hopefully we can keep it up. As Melanie and Tuukka talk, Brad scowls and talks to his linemate Patrice. Brad: look at the two of them. What's up with that? Patrice: he likes her too. What can I say. Brad *stares at him*: who's side are you on? Patrice *blinks a few times*: what? Brad: you're supposed to be on my side. As the day draws to a close and the night comes through, Melanie is at the park, overlooking the water and deep in thought. Her mind wandering as thoughts of him swirl around. Why am I thinking about him? Suddenly, a snap of a twig and rustling of leaves can be heard. Melanie snaps out of her thoughts and casts her senses out. She closes her eyes and braces herself. She then opens them as she realizes who it is. It's him. The man that can't elude her mind. Her heartbeat starts to increase as she stands ready. Melanie: I know it's you Patrice. Silence. But after a few seconds she hears him say dang it. Patrice *walks out*: how'd you know it was me? Melanie *startled*: oh? Uh *avoids eye contact, places her hand behind her head and laughs nervously* lucky guess? Patrice: fair enough. *sits beside her* beautiful night huh. Melanie *looks at the moon reflecting on the water*: yes. Very. He places his arm around her and draws her close. Her heartbeat quickens once more as she inhales his scent. Thinking to herself, he's never shown this much interest in me. I'm not that pretty. She tenses up but calms down once she inhales his cologne and listens to his heartbeat. Feeling a smile from him, she gently places a hand on his chest and feels his strong muscles through his shirt. Patrice *chuckles*: you ok? Melanie *startled and blushes*: oh. Yeah. I. I just didn't think you were interested. Patrice tilts her head up, facing him and brushes his hand gently across her cheek. Melanie's heart starts to race out of control as she stares deeply into those dark chocolate brown eyes and feels time slip by slowly. Her emerald green eyes sparkle back at him as he smiles even more. Patrice: I've liked you when I first saw you. But didn't wanna engage in an argument between Tuuks and Brad. Melanie *trying not to sound dreamy*: I understand. Patrice *chuckles*: you are incredibly beautiful Melanie. He leans into her. She braces and closes her eyes. Expecting a kiss from those soft lips of his, she instead feels them on her forehead. She opens her eyes, confused. Patrice *looking at her, concerned*: you ok? Melanie *stammers*: y-yeah. A short distance away, two dark shadows are muttering amongst themselves. First voice: what the freaking heck! I thought he wasn't into her. Second voice: I know Brad. He hid it well. Brad: something needs to be done Tuuks. She has to make up her mind and choose me. *sees him glaring* I mean one of us. Tuukka *skeptical*: uh huh. Sure. Brad takes out his binoculars and focuses on the two of them. Tuukka: hey I didn't know you had those. Brad: I did. *gets a little infuriated* you gotta be kidding me. Tuukka: what. What! Brad *mutters under his breath*: better not kiss her. Back to Melanie and Patrice. Melanie doesn't sense that she is being watched. She is focusing on being in the arms of the man she likes the most. She slowly and gently places her hand on his cheek and sees another gentle bright smile coming from him. Not a second more, the two get closer to one another, eyes closed and lips almost touching, but the two snap out of it and stand at attention after hearing a noise. Patrice: oh my god! What was that? Melanie casts her sixth sense and realizes that Brad and Tuukka are nearby and Ron is not too far away either. She doesn't say anything that could possibly expose her powers to him. Melanie: I'm not sure. She looks and sees the two shadows getting closer. Patrice looks with her, with a hand on her waist. Patrice: want me to check it out? Melanie: no. They are coming. A second later, Melanie senses proved to be right yet again. Brad and Tuukka stumble out from the bushes. Patrice: really? Melanie: what are you two doing here? Brad gets up and points directly at Patrice's face. Brad: and you said you weren't interested. Patrice: only because I didn't wanna argue between you two. Melanie gets in between the two. Melanie: boys please. Brad: what! He was about to kiss you. Tuukka *eyes widen*: what?!? You didn't tell me that. Brad: cuz I didn't want them to hear us. Not long after, Ron stumbles in. Ron: ah hah! I knew it! Ron gets right into Brad's and Tuukka's faces. The three argue amongst themselves and don't pay attention to Melanie and Patrice slowly backing away. Melanie *whispers*: follow me. She and Patrice quietly sneak away without being seen. Melanie then takes him to an abandoned tree house that is nearby and head up the stairs. Melanie *looks down to him*: coming? Patrice *looks up*: I will. After you. The two head on up and overlook the water together. Once again, Patrice places his arm around her and pulls her close. Melanie, for the first time ever, feels safe in a man's arms. She's never gotten this close to anyone before and she likes it. Melanie *whispers*: I don't wanna leave. Patrice *murmurs*: me either. The two watch the moonlight dance over the waves of the water and snuggle close. Melanie lets out a little shiver. Patrice: you cold? Melanie: just a little. He takes off his coat and drapes it around her. Patrice: that better? Melanie *smiles and dreamy*: yes. He lets out a chuckle and holds her close. After some time, the two once again look to each other, close their eyes, lean close, and lips touch one another. The two wrap their arms around each other and don't let go. Melanie's mind goes completely blank as she feels him continue to kiss her over and over again. Her heart quickens much faster than she could ever run and thought possible. She opens her eyes and sees his eyes still shut, notices one of his hands playing with her hair gently and the other is holding her hand. Feeling her gaze, Patrice opens his eyes, they sparkle just as her eyes do. After the long, romantic kiss, he pulls away and looks into her eyes, not wanting to look away, and gently brushing her cheek. Patrice *blushes shyly*: I definitely wasn't expecting that. Melanie *blushes shyly*: me either. The next day. Melanie wakes up and sees Kim waiting for her outside the room. Melanie: uh. Hi? Kim: I see you got in late last night. Melanie: and? Kim *holds up Patrice's coat*: what's this? Melanie *turns bright red*: uh. Kim: looks like you were with one of the players last night. Melanie *still red*: that's Patrice's. *takes it*. Kim: you're lucky I found it and not dad. You know how he'd react. Melanie cradles and smells the coat. A love sigh escapes and she smiles. Kim *raises an eyebrow*: I've never seen you like this. Melanie *snaps out of it*: he's so handsome Kim! Voice: who's handsome? Kim and Melanie turn and see their dad making his way towards them. Melanie: uhm uh. No one. Dad *sees the coat, then notices the spoked b and Patrice's last name on the back*: Bergeron? Who is this "Bergeron?" Melanie *turns more red*: just a hockey player on the Boston Bruins. He lent me his coat because I was cold. Dad *skeptical*: I see. Before he could utter another word, his phone goes off. Possibly work. Dad *looks at the caller id and answers*: hello. He stays put and continues the conversation. Dad: yes. I'm on my way. *hangs up the phone*. We will continue this conversation later on. As dad leaves, Melanie breaths a huge sigh of relief. Kim: so are you two like dating? Melanie *looks at the coat and smiles shyly*: I don't know. *looks up, eyes sparkle as she thinks of him* he did kiss me. *happy love sigh*. Kim *shocked*: oh my god! Really? Melanie *looks at her, love stricken*: yes. It was so romantic. And I have no shame. Before the two could continue their conversation, there's a knock on the door. Melanie rolls her eyes thinking it's Ron. Kim *looks at her and shakes head*: I'll get it. As Kim answers the door, a smooth voice greets her. Voice: good morning. You must be Melanie's sister, Kim. Kim *stammers*: uh. Uhm yes. And you are-? Voice *smiles*: Patrice. Kim *shocked*: uh. Hold on a moment. Patrice: sure. Kim runs over to Melanie. Kim: oh. My. God! Melanie: what! Kim: you didn't tell me just how handsome he is! Melanie: who? *looks out from the corner to see* Is that Patrice at the door? She then runs out of the way and sees him at the doorway. She is greeted with a warm smile and her legs start to become like jello. Patrice: hello beautiful. Melanie *voice cracks*: h-hi. Ha-handsome. He lets out a chuckle. Patrice: may I come in? Melanie: absolutely! He walks in. Melanie: Kim, dad left right? Kim: yeah. As Kim makes her way into the room, she is shocked to see how Melanie scored herself a handsome guy. Kim: wow. Melanie: I forgot to give your coat back *hands it to him*. Patrice: thanks but you hold onto it. *kisses her forehead gently and leaves his lips there*. Melanie *shakes a little and smiles*: ooook. The doorbell rings again. Kim: that must be Ron. Melanie *rolls her eyes and scoffs*: oh great. Kim opens the door. Kim: good morning Ron. Ron *walks in*: hey K- *sees Patrice with Melanie, with his lips still on her forehead and scowls angrily* yo man. Get away from her! He storms over to them. Patrice lets Melanie go and looks at Ron. Ron: that's my woman! Melanie *gets angry*: uhm last time I checked, I'm not. Patrice *holding her back*: it's ok Mel. Relax. Ron *realizes he's one of the Bruins by the coat*: enemy! Patrice *laughs*: I'm guessing you're a Mad Dog fan? Kim: actually *holds Ron back* he's on the Mad Dog hockey team. Ron *puffs out his chest proudly*: dang right I am. And we are gonna crush you and the rest of your team. We are gonna take over first place. Before Patrice could say a word, Rufus climbs out of Ron's pocket and sits on his shoulder. Curious to know what the fuss is all about. Patrice *sees Rufus*: uh what is that? Ron: it's Rufus. My naked mole rat. Patrice: interesting. Never seen one before. Rufus *waves*: hi. Ron *glares at Rufus*: no talking to the enemy. Kim: Ron. Chill. Patrice *looks at his watch*: I better get going. Melanie *sad and takes his arm*: no. Don't go. Patrice *turns to face her, smiles, places a hand on her cheek, and kisses her forehead again*: you'll see me again. *sees Ron scowling then looks back at Melanie* I gotta get ready to meet the guys at the rink. Come by later on. Melanie: abso- Ron *cuts her off*: no way. She'll be watching me. Melanie *pushes him away*: I'd love to. But what about Brad and Tuukka? They saw us. Patrice *brushes her cheek still*: don't you worry about that. Now. I'll see you later *kisses her cheek before walking out*. Melanie *runs to him*: wait. Your coat! Patrice *smiles*: thanks. Melanie watches sadly as he drives off. She has not felt this way towards anyone before. Could it be that she is in love with him? TO BE CONTINUED... Next time. Jealousy between the guys. Brad: me and Tuuks saw you with her. What's up with that! The coach trying to fire up his team. Mr. Barkin: come on. We need those points and to practice or unless you all are a bunch of pansies. The talk. Melanie: Patrice. I need to talk to you. Patrice: everything ok Melanie? Melanie: yes. But there's something I have to tell you. I just. I just don't know how to tell you. Patrice *concerned*: what is it? Melanie *hesitates*: I. I have powers. The deep feelings. Melanie: oh my god Kim. I think I'm in love with him.

[insideabunker]

The Games: Chapter 5

"A mere five days since the opening ceremony here at the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics, and already athletes from around the world have astounded us with seemingly superhuman feats of strength and skill."

The television screen flickered and gleamed, illuminating the faces in the darkened lounge in an ethereal blue glow.  From ever couch and chair, athletes watched as the clips flashed past on the screen, searching for their faces among the event highlights.

"There I am!"  A 16-year-old from Quebec pointed eagerly at the screen where a clip played of a tiny snowboarder, flying over the side of a halfpipe as he grabbed the front of his board and spun in the air.

"There's been no shortage of heartbreak either, with several heavily favored athletes going home empty-handed in their final Olympics."

A scruffy Luger in the front row of couches sighed, watching himself cross the finish line a tenth of a second shy of a medal.  A shaggy-haired skier just behind him placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Your run was still a beauty Sammy. No shame in that."

"Here at the Coastal Cluster in Gangneung, South Korea, all attention seems focused on the highly anticipated preliminary matchup between the U.S. and Canadian women's hockey teams."

In an armchair in the back of the room, Lexa shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  Try as she might, it had been impossible to drown out the media's furor over the upcoming game.  All week long, the predictions and opinions of commentators had been buzzing in her ears like a million tiny mosquitos, refusing to be silenced and impossible to swat away.

"The two powerhouses meet tomorrow, in a contest which is sure to incite pure pandemonium among spectators.  Both teams are overflowing with talent and likely candidates for Olympic medals.  Who will leave PyeongChang with Gold, however, is perhaps the most hotly contested subject of this Olympics.  For predictions on that subject, we turn to longtime Olympic hockey commentator Liam McHugh.  Liam, welcome to the show."

"Thank you, Jim.  It's nice to be here again."

"Liam, I'd like to get right down to it.  What do you think the significance of this preliminary game is?"

"Well, Jim, I suspect that it will set a precedent for the level of play we're going to see going forward into the medal rounds.  Among the competitors in PyeongChang, there's a sense that any team looking to win gold needs to go through the U.S. or Canada.  Frankly, no two teams go at it harder than these two, so if they kick it up a few notches during this game, I suspect that’s where the effort will stay throughout the medal round.  It should make for some very exciting hockey.

"What do you think the chances are that we'll see a repeat of the U.S. vs. Canada final from Sochi?"

"I'd say the odds are pretty good.  Since women's hockey was introduced in 1998, there has only been one Olympics in which the U.S. and Canada haven't ended up fighting one another for the gold medal."

"That was Turin?"

"Yes, in 2006.  Now, when you look at this on an international play level, ranking aside, it's construable that either team is the most dominant women's program in the world.  Canada has a slight lead regarding numbers, ten IIHF titles to the United States eight, but of those World Championships, the United States has won the past four.

"Liam, it sounds like there's a but in there."

"But... As far as Olympic Hockey goes there is no question; Canada's been the reigning powerhouse for some time.  In twenty years of Women's Olympic Ice Hockey, Canada has won gold in four out of the five games.  The U.S. hasn't stood at the top of the medals podium since 1998, and frankly, if they lose tomorrow's game, it isn’t likely they will this year either.

"You don't think that a preliminary defeat will get the American's fired up even harder?"

"I doubt it, Jim. So far the United States managed a two-point victory over Finland and beat the Olympic Athletes from Russia, handily, six to one.  As for Canada, they've had shutouts in their first two, thanks to this new goalie of theirs.  But, neither one has been put through the paces the way you'd want building up to a contest like tomorrow's matchup.  I think the shift in play from low to high gear is going to come as a wake-up call for both teams, and if the U.S. loses, it would significantly bolster team Canada's considerable confidence going into the medal round. That doesn't mean that Team USA is guaranteed a loss in the medal round, but it would create a significant psychological obstacle.

"So what you're saying is, the American girls have a game to win if they want to stay competitive."

"Well, at the very least they need to make it a close one.  If Canada forces another scoreless game, it's going to make their seemingly unbeatable defense that much more of a challenge from here on out.  The U.S. could overcome a loss tomorrow if, at the very least, they manage to break Lexa Woods' shutout streak.  In my opinion, everything hinges on that."

"Speaking of Lexa Woods, we managed to get a brief interview with the phenom yesterday after Canada's victory over Finland."

The picture changed again, and Lexa cringed as she saw herself onscreen, goalie mask tucked under her arm, her brow pouring sweat, her face red and splotchy from overexertion, her hair a tangled mess of brown rat's nests.  She squinted into the camera light, awkwardly attempting to push matted, sweaty locks out of her eyes with the back of her arm.

"So, two shutouts so far. How does that feel?"

"Um... Good, I guess."

"Are you surprised?"

"Not really.  I transitioned to the national team from the OHL, so I'm used to a style of play that's a bit more fast paced if I'm being honest; certainly more physical. I think that gives me an advantage that makes shutouts more likely at this level."

"And I'm sure that your team's defensemen have contributed significantly to that success. Wouldn't you say?"  The reporter subtly attempted to lead the goalie towards a more egalitarian breakdown of team Canada's success, smiling as she held the mic closer.

"Oh, yeah. I mean, they've definitely contributed."

Lexa cringed as she listened to herself, realizing that she sounded more than a little cocksure.  She was confident that if any of her teammates were watching, she'd catch hell later.

"What an ass."  Lexa heard a speed skater a few rows up whisper to the curler next to him.  She scowled, pulling the hood of her sweatshirt up a bit further to hide her face.  People could talk about her if they liked. She was more than used to it.

A body settled into the next chair over, nudging her in the side as an arm extended, offering her a bag full of popcorn.

"Echo's been pretty strong on the back-check. You couldn't have been a little more generous about her performance?"  Lincoln smirked, leaning in and cocking an eyebrow quizzically.

"I panicked! You know I'm terrible at interviews."

Under his breath, Lincoln let out a low "Humph," in agreement.  "Well, I hope your terrible interview demeanor doesn't get you in hot water with your teammates."

Lexa shrunk down in her chair, crossing her arms as she cast a sullen glance in Lincoln's direction.  "I doubt they could dislike me any more than they already do.  They're all off together watching the Men's halfpipe qualifiers."

"Why didn't you go with them?"

"Because they got tickets and didn't tell me." She crossed her arms, sinking even further into the armchair.

"So... things not going so well, eh?" Lincoln bit his lip hesitantly. Never quite sure how to handle his childhood friend when she was in the mood to sulk and feel sorry for herself.

Lexa frowned. "Obviously not."  She furrowed her brow, seething at the frustratingly amused look on Lincoln's face.  "How did you get in here anyway?  I thought you were supposed to be at your hotel with Dante?"

Lincoln held up an all-access visitors pass, turning his attention back to the flat screen, where commentators were still discussing the game.

"Well Jim, I think the primary difference is the team dynamics. Canada has been relying heavily on the individual skills of their players, but all of those players are extraordinarily good at what they do, and nearly all are Olympic veterans.  Team USA has fewer seasoned players, but on the other hand, they play seamlessly together.  Their system and team dynamics are terrific, their coaching staff is outstanding, and their current on-ice leadership is, in my opinion, phenomenal.

"Speaking of that leadership, we were able to catch Team USA's Captain, Clarke Griffin, earlier today for a quick interview."

Clarke appeared on screen, looking frustratingly natural on camera as she stood outside the dorms of the Olympic Village in the falling snow. She rubbed her irritatingly well-formed button nose, bright red from the chill of the frigid air, with the back of a mitten-clad hand, cupping her face politely as she let out an absurdly dainty sneeze.  The whole scene only made her seem even more infuriatingly charming than she already did.

"So, how do you feel going into your game with the Canadian team?"

“I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit anxious to play one of the best teams in the world, but having said that, I am so confident in my team that it makes it hard to be too nervous.  There's an old expression that I think sums my feeling up well.  'If you want to be number one, you have to train like you are number two.'  That's really where our mindset has been since the Sochi games, and in particular for the past year.  Every woman on team USA has given 100% and thrown everything she has into preparing for this moment.  We trained to be the best, and we trained to beat the best, and I think that's what people are going to see tomorrow."

"Gotta say, she's pretty hot, ya know?"

"Do you have something useful to add?"  Lexa stared at him skeptically.

"And what do you think about the hype surrounding Canada's goalie, Lexa Woods?  How do you feel about going up against someone who's been playing primarily in men's leagues?  Do you think that has given Canada an unfair advantage?"

Lexa bit the inside of her cheek, anxiously waiting for the subtle prejudice of the question to creep under Clarke's skin, making her come unglued on camera.  She watched as the blonde paused, calm on the surface, though her irritation showed around the edges.  For half a minute Clarke remained silent.

"You know."  She paused briefly to tuck a few strands of golden hair behind her ear.  "A lot of people have been talking about this recently, and the truth is I'm not sure it's a useful discussion to be having."

The reporter leaned in curiously. "Can you elaborate on that."

"Sure, I mean... Every time this gets brought up it seems to unravel into a discussion of physical differences and biology and what women can and can't do as well compared to men.  Honestly, I wonder if we're not asking the wrong question altogether."

"What question should we be asking?"

"Well, for starters, we should be asking why women's abilities are always defined by their approximation to men's.  Why do we have to appraise women's skills and talents by saying that they are "strong for a girl," or "as good as a man?"  I don't think that is useful to anyone.  I mean women and men are different.  Obviously, we're different.  In the same way that we solve problems and communicate differently, women and men play hockey differently.  Different doesn't mean worse; it just means different.  We play our own game. We play it with skill, and with passion and every woman here is phenomenal at what she does. If that's not enough for fans, then they're welcome to watch the men’s game instead.”

Lexa leaned forward, watching as Clarke paused again.  She took a deep breath to help maintain her calm, smooth demeanor.  

"More importantly, to suggest that Lexa Woods is a remarkable goalie because she's been playing with men is to more or less give men credit for her talent. That is misguided. Lexa Woods is an extraordinary goalie because she has extraordinary ability and, from what I hear, she works her ass off.  That, thus far, she's been able to keep up in this new arena only means that's she's that much more versatile.  Frankly, I would have suspected that a men's goalie would have struggled to adjust switching to the women's game."

"Well, Lexa Woods sure hasn't been struggling so far.  In fact, she's just recorded her second NGA performance against Russia.  When we spoke to her earlier today she seemed confident that she could stretch that shutout streak to three."

Clarke laughed bitterly, piquing the reporter's interest.

"Uh-oh, sounds like we've got a little bit of a rivalry in the works here."

"I mean, so far Canada has played Finland and Russia, and while both are great teams defensively, they've also lost some critical offensive players in the past few years.  Moreover, Canada has defensemen like Echo Cote who, despite our history, is in my opinion, one of the best defensive players in the world. I think that she has contributed as much as Lexa Woods has to those shutouts."

Lincoln elbowed Lexa in the ribs.  "See, she talks about the team as a whole.  She gets it."

Lexa scowled at him, sticking out her tongue.

"As far as Team USA goes, we play effective two-way hockey, and we've got some unbelievably good young forwards. I don't think Lexa Woods has had to contend with a strong offense yet. Woods seems to favor a stand-up style of goaltending that's effective against screening and shots from the point, but I don't think she'd used to having players crashed the net as hard as we do.  I guess we'll have to see how she handles herself."

Lexa frowned, pushing herself out of her chair in disgust.  "We'll see alright."

Lincoln shook his head, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth as he watched Lexa trudge out of the room in a huff. 

It was rare for a competitor's comments to bother Lexa as much as this Griffin women’s seemed to.  Whatever it was about her, the American Captain certainly rattled Lexa's cage in a way few others had managed.

"Two minutes to go here in the third period and we've got a real nail-biter on our hand’s folks, with Canada leading the U.S. 1-0."

A Canadian defenseman slid the puck out to the point, where it was picked up by Echo.

"Côté drifts into the slot.  She winds up, shoots, and..." The announcer paused as the shot whizzed through the air.  "Save! It's a brilliant glove save by Raven Reyes.  She saw that one coming from a mile away, ladies and gentleman."

Fog filled the air as the panting players crouched around the face-off circle, steam rising from their bodies as they waited for the puck to drop out of the referee's hand.  It hit the ice with a hollow thud, and the rink once again erupted into a chaotic confusion of colliding bodies.  The crunching of skates as they cut through the ice was deafening with the forwards fighting for an opening.  Clarke snagged the puck and sent it gliding over to Harper who made a sharp cut behind the net, eyes trained piercingly on Octavia, already cutting towards the boards, ready for a pass.  The puck sailed across the ice with precision, landing deftly on the left wing's stick just in time for her to slip past a hulking defenseman.  The freshman forward flew across the neutral zone like a lightning bolt, Canada's players hot on her trail.  She crossed the blue line alone, dropping low in the slot and cutting right at the last minute to try and sneak a backhand by the Canadian goalie.

The slap of vulcanized rubber hitting wood filled the arena as the puck deflected off her stick.  Lexa dropped to her knees, covering it with a gloved hand as she waited for the whistle to sound. Three sharp blasts signaled a stoppage in gameplay, much to Lexa's great relief.  She watched as Echo skated towards her casually, smirking at her through her face cage.

"You just gave them a face-off in our zone with a minute and a half left in the game. Wait to go, Woods."

Lexa pulled off her goalie mask and slammed it down on top of the net.  She desperately grabbed at the water bottle that hung in the loose mesh, using it to wet down her sweat soaked face.

"Seriously, Côté?  I wouldn't have had to force a whistle if you'd been here five seconds ago!  You've been dragging ass on the back-check all night, and I can barely get help in front of the net when they've got the puck in our zone.  What the hell is wrong with all of you?"

Echo narrowed her eyes at the goalie, leaning on the goal post as she bent forward, sneering.  "Oh, I'm sorry.  Are we not contributing enough for you?"

Lexa's eyes nearly popped out of her head.  She threw her water bottle back into the netting and surged forward, pushing Echo away from the goal.  "Are you fucking kidding me right now?!  Is that why I've taken 47 shots to Reyes’ 29?"

She spat water onto the ice, inching forward as though she was ready to pummel her towering defenseman.  "You're fucking letting them take shots on me to teach me a lesson?"

Echo winked at her contemptuously, turning Lexa’s face crimson.

"How's that working out for you, Woods?"

"I'll tell you when I finish this shutout!"

Before Lexa could completely lose her temper, a referee intervened, skating between the two women and eyeballing them suspiciously.

"That's enough squabbling ladies.  We've got a face-off.”

Echo nodded at the man, pausing just long enough before he fell back into position to give Lexa a final derisive glare.

"Do your job Côté!" Lexa yelled at her retreating teammate, pulling her face mask back on and crouched between the pipes.

The puck dropped, and a wall of bodies smashed into each other once more, a symphony of slashing and crunching filling the air as both teams dug in and fought for ownership.  Finally, Gaia managed to knock the puck back to Echo, who sailed around the goal and sent it shooting out to a forward along the boards.

The players shifted across the ice as each one pursued the puck carrier into the American zone.  The forward went low, flipping around at the red line and banking a shot off the boards to her defenseman.  The crack of a slap-shot rang out, followed by the ping of metal as the puck ricocheted off the goal post and went careening into the sea of players clustered in front of the net.  It was knocked loose by a skate, sliding into the corner as Harper, and a Canadian forward following close behind.  They crashed into one another hard, the glass rattling as their bodies struck the boards and battled for control of the disk.  In a moment of panic, the Canadian forward began to lose her composure, reaching out an arm to create space and maintain her balance.  Her hand grabbed the first solid object on which it found purchase, the shaft of Harper's stick, eliciting an immediate whistle blast from the referee.  

"Number 21; holding the stick; two-minute penalty!"  The referee held up a hand pointing to the benches with his other.  A yelling match between him and the Canadian coach ensued, and in the brief downtime, Kane waved his arm, calling his players back towards the bench for a moment of strategizing.

"There's still forty seconds left, and we've got a golden opportunity here."  He turned to his captain, his expression deadly serious "Griffin, you're my quarterback on this power play.  How confident do you feel?"

Clarke splashed her face with water, giving him a curt nod before she lowered the cage of her helmet and answered.  "We've got this, Coach."

Kane winked.  "Then go get 'em, ladies."

With a few slaps on the shoulders for good luck, the American players departed the bench.  They glided back over to the face-off circle and hunkered down, staring back and forth at each other intently, their tension palpable as the referee skated into position.

The moment the puck hit the ice the world fell shock silent, every spectator in the stands holding their breath in anticipation, the only sound in the rink the voice of the announcer as he called the play by play.

"Back to the corner and it's Griffin and Côté fighting for the puck.  Griffin with control now. A pass to McIntyre on the point.  McIntyre drifts high in the slot and takes a shot and... Oh! It rebounds off of Anderson, but the Canadians can't get it back on the pine.  The puck is picked up by Blake. Blake back to Cooper at the left point.  Cooper passes to McIntyre.  McIntyre winds up and...  She fakes!  McIntyre fakes, and now the American women seem to be shifting positions. McIntyre transitions to the left point with right winger Johnson moving to the right point from low in the zone.  A pass to Johnson with three seconds left.  Johnson glides to the top of the face-off circle and...  She shoots!"

At that moment, Lexa felt as though the world had shifted into slow motion.  Through the screen of players lingering in front of the net, she watched as Johnson wound back and swung her stick forward with all the force of a wrecking ball.  She heard the crack of the slap-shot reverberated through the arena, saw the puck cutting through the air as it flew at her, a perfect spinning disk, high and to the right.  She raised her blocker reflexively, deflecting the puck, and sending it floating high over her left shoulder and out of sight.  Suddenly everything sped up.  There was a flash of an arm catching the puck mid arm, a split second of a swinging stick, and the ding of metal as the puck grazed the crossbar and sailed into the net.  Only then was the silence of the rink finally broken, shattered by the horrifying sound of a goal horn going off.

"And they score!  The Americans score! Oh, my goodness!  What was that!?  American captain Clarke Griffin scores in the craziest rebound return I think I've ever seen, folks."

Lexa could only stare, shocked, as a startled Clarke was enveloped in her teammates' embraces, their faces brimming with gleeful revelry.  Standing in front of the referee yelling, Echo looked like a volcano ready to erupt.  She gestured wildly, pointing this way and that as she yelled something about high sticking and touching the puck.  Over the loudspeakers, an announcer said that they were going to a video review, his voice mumbled as though he were an adult in a Peanuts cartoon.

The world finally came back into focus, and Lexa turned her eyes to a nearby monitor, where the final moments of the game were being played back from every available angle.  She watched in horror as the puck rebounded off her block and was knocked out of the air by Clarke's outstretched hand.  In the millisecond it took for the puck to drop to the level of her mid-torso, Clarke had grabbed her stick, swung it, and made direct contact with the black blob on the screen, knocking it past Lexa's glove side and into the goal as though it were a baseball.  Over and over again, Lexa watched the incredible scene; her jaw slacks with awe as she realized that Clarke's stick had indeed been below the level of the crossbar, making the shot a legitimate one.

The referee waved his arms declaring the goal fair.  The commentator excitedly announced that the game was going into overtime.  The fans exploded into a mixed chorus of cheers and booing.  Lexa could only stare at Clarke, wholly unable to process the impossible feat she had just witnessed the too-small American center perform.  Through the sea of bodies crowding her, Clarke stared back, smiling defiantly.

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*For those wanting clarification on what Clarke’ s goal would look like, or if you are wondering whether or not this kind of “baseball goal” is something that actually happens in hockey, here is a link to a video of the real-life play that inspired it.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBcKHrTyG0I