#So really if we want to fix hockey we need to start at the youth level

[freebooter4ever]

Reading this in a minute of downtime at work and this one bit cracked me up:

Like YES if pretending that you have the same respect for LGBQT people as you do for your grandmothers is what gets people to stop using slurs then pls by all means. Hahahaha.

#Im not entirely sure this would have worked on the kids i went to high school with #Like they would definitely never swear in front of their grandmas #But they also never considered gay people human like their grandmas #Isnt that the problem though? Slurs only work when the person who uses it still considers the minority group the Other #Pride night is supposed to change that and make it inclusive #Listening to that doc on russel today while working #But also remembering that movie about that First Nations fictional hockey player #Isnt a new problem and the difficulty is hat it took so much sacrifice to change not by changing it from the outside #But minority players with skill so INSANELY good that it cant be ignored #Had to get their foot in the door first #So really if we want to fix hockey we need to start at the youth level #And THAT i think is why pride nights are important to show the youth that their heroes arent homophobic assholes

[clonememesfrikyeah]

Some clone oc concepts for y’all:

A clone with a fondness for botany is deployed on a jungle planet whey they come across a rare species of plant and they save it and present it to some sort of official because the plant contains the cure for some disease but the official was like mmmmm we gotta destroy that because if people have easy access to a cure then that won’t spend money on treatment and that will ruin my stocks, cue the clone running away with the plant and they tell their squad mates about it and they cover for him while he escapes off world with the plant and deserts and starts cultivating it until he has a ton of it and secretly distributes the plant to pharmacists that actually want to make a cure

A clone who is really good friends with this older guy that runs a theater on Coriscant that welcomes clones and they meet up and talk whenever they can because the clone is just glad to have a friend they can talk to about their favorite movies and interests with and the old man is glad to have someone to talk to because his kids don’t come around any more and the clone is like the grand kid he never got to have, near the end of the war the old man passed and he left the clone this old space drive in theater on some outer rim planet that he used to run in his youth but then he had kids and had to move because of all the conflicts and it was abandoned, he couldn’t leave the theater on Coriscant to the clone because he had already promised it to his eldest, but then the Order hit and the clone wanted out with a few of his squad mates so they went the only place they had and ended up fixing the place up and running it

Clones that sneak off to god knows where at unholy hours and their CO’s are suspicious that their doing nefarious activities and follow them only to find out their just playing DND with their friends

Clone who played space hockey at the local community center that was open to the gar and ends up making some friends and they form a team and there actually really good at playing and some corporate sports dude with money notices and he’s like hey you guys could make bank doing this with me, I can set you up with other teams for matches that people would pay money to see and you could make it big. And their like idk this team is made up of a republic clone, a middle aged IT guy with a lot of college debt, an elderly woman on parole for petty theft, a couple of Highschool brutes, a 10 year old with a thirst for blood, a bimbo, a non-binary with two toned dyed hair and a bag of crystals and Craig, but their like ehh we do need money let’s just try it and it goes alright for a while until the guy try’s to swindle, manipulate, divide and exploit them to which they respond by not working with him anymore and exposing him to his competitors and letting the 10yo bite the guys ankles, then they go on to win a big nationals game, get that bag, dip and go back to just playing for fun.

Clone that goes exploring and always has some sort of paranormal experience, every time without fail, it’s like a curse. In the woods? Their gonna see some weird shit up in the trees that ain’t normal. In an abandoned civi area in the middle of a war zone? Their gonna hear disembodied voices and see apparitions. Just chilling in the barracks? Shit moves on its own sometimes. They always wake up with dirt in their pockets even if they haven’t been in a planet in months and have really unsettling vivid dreams. Turns out they are little cursed in the way that ghosts are just attached to them and their actual the one who’s haunted.

Clone who has a dream of being the gar’s best electrician because they feel that the trades should be something that should be an option to learn on Kamino because they shouldn’t just rely on droids to fix those problems all the time, they can fail, get shut down with an EMP blast, and be generally unreliable. Besides, aren’t they supposed to be fighting droids? They should be putting their lives in the hands of droids every time they need to get a door open. Their very passionate about it.

Clone who is working on one of the galaxy’s hardest math problems as a pass time and actually solves it and the galactic sciences institute that I just made up is offering a reward to anyone who is smart enough to solve such equations and in their excitement they tell their brothers who tell other troopers who tell the occasional civi (because we all know gossip runs rampant in the gar) and soon the word is out someone solved an impossible equation and soon this clone has a bunch of bounty hunters on their tail who were hired by some math weirdo’s that have been trying to solve the equation for years and now want to steal their work and take credit for it and get the reward.

A clone who runs off to literally join the space circus and meets a lot of cool people and sees a lot of nice places and there’s a lot of shenanigans and adventures and they get to be the most extreme, freest version of themselves and they eat strictly fair food.

Clone who runs a mystery shack type of emporium in the barracks. Like their a first gen clone and they’ve seen a lot of stuff and been a lot of places and they like to collect weird stuff and they keep it all in their tack box and if you trade them something cool or useful they’ll let troopers look at all their weird stuff; like the picked space rat toes he found at the market and he thought that it sounded weird and they weren’t sure pickled feet of an animal no less a rat sounded particularly delicious to him but hey people eat it and it must good for the market to keep it in stock besides they’d only ever had frozen vegetables and nutrient paste all his life, the jar of chewed gum they’ve been filling since their shiny days, a keychain with half the writing scuffed off and it was left as a mystery as to what it says, a rare mislabeled munitions cartridge, some feathers, eggshells, leaves, dirt and other natural items they’d collected from planets they’d been to, a collection of cursed drawings they’d randomly had handed to them by other vod and his favorite one is the tooka with wings and a human face, a rare flavored nutrient packet that had been discontinued before the war started, a 24 sided rubix cube, a funny looking half melted space McDonald’s toy from the clone equivalent of the 90’s, a shard of a CD that is ancient technology from a time long passed, a bunch of zip ties that a couple of cloaked figures tried to give him by attacking them to his back armor but he couldn’t stick around and make friends because he had a meeting to get to, and a ton of other trinkets and treasures he’s found (and may or may not have accident or purposefully stole or gotten from many miscommunications)

Clone who is obsessed with art and color but is part of the Kamino guard and the bleak walls drive them crazy and they go out of their way to express themselves in every subtle rebellious way possible. It’s hardly ever noticeable except Nala Se absolutely notices but it’s so minute it would be petty to make a fuss about it but it pisses her off to me end.

A clone who is stationed on a remote outpost that functions as a lookout but nothing major ever happens and the planet is going through a drought and forest fires are starting to happen often and threaten the tower and the near by inhabitants and basically the clone becomes a fire tower look out for lack of anything better to do.

Clone who brews their own liquor by using a glass jug they found in a dumpster, a bunch of home made equipment, watching space YouTube videos and stolen yeast and fruit juice from the cafeteria. The brews are so strong that it’s like drinking straight Star fighter fuel and it’s related to how they got their name somehow.

Clone who was accidentally left behind on a temperate forest planet that’s not very populated and doesn’t use a lot of his tech and so they wandered miles to the nearest village to find supplies and maybe a communicator but there are no such long range devices within a 200 mile radius so they survive doing various jobs around the community in exchange for supplies and becomes a well liked, integrated part of the community and is known as the village handy person/muscle/problem solver and they take a likening to the arts and ends up setting down to become a local glass blowers apprentice.

Clone who invents and tinkers with things

Clones who write. They write fan fiction about their favorite holo films and radio shows, they write there own original works, they write comprehensive works about how life is in the gar, they right anonymous letters to senators in protest of the war, they get the vod who can draw to do illustrations for them, they start groups they talk about their writing with. Basically take what the creative part of the fandom is and and apply it to them.

Clones who find they have a natural talent for magic and mystic arts that aren’t of the force and in there search for what these powers are and what to do with them the fall down a rabbit hole in the archives covering lore, mythology, spells, and history all over the galaxy and start to notice something’s off and there’s something recurring or whatever you guys feel like but one thing leads to another and suddenly there caught up in a thousands of years old conflict between mystic forces that are invisible to the majority of the cosmos, and bonus plot twist it turns out there a rare kind of magic wielder, either the powerful kind or one that’s so rare there’s only ever been a couple other, or their capable of anti or reverse magic casting.

Clones who are mall rats, like when they get to Coriscant they break out the civi clothes they’ve salvaged from store dumpsters and just hang around stores, especially the ones that don’t allow clones inside out of spite, and they get cheap earrings from space Clare’s and get cinnamon sugar pretzels from the food court.

Clone who has died and their navigating the afterlife and this can be whatever anyone interprets the afterlife as, it can be like what mandalorians believe and everyone of mandalorian heritage goes to the same plane of existence to live in peace together, or it’s based on where they die and what deity’s control those areas that determines what afterlife they go to, or it’s universal and depending on if you were a good person or not determines where you end up, maybe the afterlife is like a never ending adventure that sometimes feels like a feared dream and it’s like a soul collective with everyone whose ever died there and it’s expanded across planets and reality’s and it’s very similar to how life was but also very different. Just do whatever you feel like for this one!

Alternatively to the prompt above, clone who dies and becomes the grim reapers apprentice.

Clone who makes there own clay by collecting it while deployed then processes it and using it to make air dried little figurines.

Clone who makes jewelry out of wiring and glass and scrap metal prices using the tiny mechanic tools out of the tool kit their bachmate has to fix fighters that they often don’t need.

Clone who accounts pulls a Narnia and falls into an alternate high fantasy like dimension and goes on a whole adventure to try and find a way back but ends up spending a whole lifetime there making friends and having a family and a whole alternate life and when their old they find the way back and when they get back it’s like nothing changed at all and their young again and in the middle of a war that has no meaning puppeteerd by an obviously corrupt government who is using them and their siblings as slaves and canon fodder and it took them living a whole alternate life of freedom in a different dimension to realize how absolutely FUCKED it all is so they stage a coup and fight for freedom with their new knowledge and skills while smuggling clones that would like to go to this alternate universe.

Clone who somehow ends up in a really weird town in the middle of nowhere. Like if you’ve ever listened to podcasts like Welcome to Night Vale, Death by Dying and Uncanny County or seen the tv shows Gravity Falls or Over the Garden Wall I’m talking that kind of weird. Paranormal weird, cryptide weird, Midwest gothic weird, weird core weird, small town weird and spooky weird all combine into the same type of weird weird. And they live a happy life there and suspect nothing is out of place there because they have no clue how to live a normal civilian life as a clone and just contribute to the weird as one does.

A 332nd trooper who is deployed to Mandalore to capture Maul and gets lost in the underground part of the city and encounters a mando who attacks them and they win the fight, but they have now unknowingly killed an old, outcasted mandalorian god that had been weakened from time and fading belief in them. And it’s a magical rule that if you kill a god you become that god and get their powers because I said so and yeah basically a clone that becomes a new mandalorian god and had to deal with the really crappy legacy the late god left them with because through a series of misadventures they find out that god wasn’t exactly well liked amongst most gods.

Clone who grows a secret moss walk in the barracks.

Clone who goes out for drinks while on leave and they get absolutely fucked up and they wake up the next day to find they accidentally got married to someone who was also at the bar and was equally wasted and they go out to talk about it because ummmm hey were married apparently but I don’t even know your name and they find out that their each nice people who have similar interests and actually might like each other but it’s not an ideal situation for a relationship but it’s beneficial to them because it might legally grant the clone citizenship if they took it to court and the other gets better taxes and benefits so they stay married for mutual friendship and legal benefits.

Clone who works at an antique shop on Coriscant when they have leave. Except the shop is filled with cursed, dangerous, mystical artifacts. (it’s a little like Warehouse 13 if you’ve ever seen that show)

Clone who raised a jar of space sea monkeys on a top bunk in the barracks.

Clone who becomes a line cook after the war is over and moves around to a lot of restaurant jobs and works their way up and eventually after many years of experience and hard work they become an executive chef and then go off to staff their own place.

Coriscant guard who has an above human average iq and works In investigations and specializes in forensics. (Their friends call them Sherlock but they’re more like Temperance Brendan from that show Bones).

Clone who has a pet ant farm but the aunts are space aunts and they spit acid.

Clones who are book/pdf file dealers and smugglers because the intel gar troops are allowed to have is highly regulated.

Clone who makes candles out of the wax they use to clean blasters with and puts them in space monster cans and they smell rancid when lit.

#clone ocs #tcw #the clone wars #star wars legends #Star Wars #the prequels #clone oc #Star Wars oc #original character #oc ideas #writing prompts #my post #clone wars 2003 #79’s #warehouse 13 #bones tv #Narnia #captain rex #commander cody #332nd company #anakin skywalker #ashoka tano #obi wan kenobi #commander fox #commander wolffe #Coriscant guard #wtnv #gravity falls #death by dying #uncanny county

[issaxcharlie]

We say we're friends, we play pretend (1/2)

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem reader

Summary: Charlie and Y/N were best friends and a couple as teens, after their breakup they meet again 4 years later on the bootcamp of JATP and have to work together. Will something else happen or they are just friends?

Charlie must have imagined something like this could happen. Since Kenny discovered her 5 years ago, she has been a really close friend to the director, participating in some way or another in almost all his projects.

In front of him after years, Y/N Y/L, his childhood best friend and ex-girlfriend. The young actor is not going to admit that he saw every single one of her projects or how moved he was by her in each one of them, many times even thinking of maybe sending her a little message saying the incredible job she did.

But he never found the courage.

It’s weird to remember how he spent most of his life next to the woman, now one of the top youth artists with multiple musicals and movies on her hits list. They always had a strong bond, every single day together. Sleepovers, music classes, dancing classes, homework, parties, movie nights, hockey, illness days, pretty much everything. At the age of 15 they began a very sweet and innocent relationship that ended at 18 when Y/N moved to New York to work in her first leading role.

The break up was on good terms but painful, so painful that both preferred to lose contact completely than to have the other from time to time opening the wound again and again.

And there she was. As beautifil as ever, speaking happily with Kenny while Madison and Owen jump up and down, Jeremy smiles and Charlie looks like he wants to throw up.

“Y/N Y/L, my golden star. She is the official composer of the soundtrack, and she will be supporting you throughout the album process as well as helping Paul and me in other creative aspects, I know she is the same age as some of you but she has a lot of experience in this and all the necessary preparation so don't hesitate to get all the knowledge you can out of her."

Everyone introduces themselves until the guitarist is the only one left, luckily for him, he’s in voice rest these two weeks so he literally cannot speak.

They both look nervous but the moment their eyes meet their complicity comes out and both smile slightly.

“He’s Charlie, he is in voice rest but we are fans of yours. We cried yesterday watching your last musical, it was just brilliant." Owen lets out hardly breathing, Y/N turns with a smile to see the Canadian boy who wants to kill his friend and then commit suicide.

“Thank you! This is going to be such an interesting experience.” The singer murmurs as she winks at Charlie.

2 hours later they had both been avoiding each other, Y/N writing in a corner while the band and Kenny discuss costumes with Soyon, in which at least half an hour has been wasted trying to understand what Charlie is trying to say with the few words he writes with an apple pencil on his ipad in his horrible handwritting.

Y/N gets frustrated and goes to where they are, approaching behind Charlie's shoulder to see the iPad. She quickly identifies the two words, one so crossed out that it looks like a doodle, but years copying each other's homework pays off.

"He's trying to say that if Luke isn't going to wear bandanas, at least consider wearing beanies." The young woman says as she leans on the shoulder of who was her first love.

Charlie freezes at their proximity, blushing a little at the feeling of being close after so long. Luckily his castmates don't realize it because all their attention is on her.

“You are just good for everything huh? Even deciphering hieroglyphs." Owen comments, smiling at her and winking exaggeratedly to make her laugh.

Charlie can't help but feel insecure with the situation. It could be a friendly thing but If Owen really tries to flirt with her, he doesn't know how he would react. Is sad enough not having her in his life anymore, having her as his best friend's girlfriend would just be too painful.

Now, he knows he’s exaggerating, and a lot. But he has to do something about it. Better safe than sorry.

He stretches his neck to meet the eyes of his ex-girlfriend, who is now only inches away. She quickly gets flustered, but hides it pretty well. The problem is that he knows every gesture perfectly and sees through her mask.

“Wh- What, Gillespie?” She manages to say, Charlie can’t help a smile seeing the way she still reacts towards him.

When you know a person completely, every facet, every gesture, every peculiarity, speaking without words is as natural as breathing. And they had both forgotten how amazing it feels to have someone in your life who is this compatible and magnetic.

They start a conversation, she answers to who secretly still believes as her person while he continues making gestures and mimics that no one else understands, writing a word from time to time to make the talk flow better.

"I know. Hey, it's not my fault! So you excuse yourself with the ‘can't talk’ thing huh? how convenient. Yeah, Ok, I will. I said I will!" Her words are the only thing that they manage to get out of the conversation that the secret ex-couple is having, since no matter how much attention they pay to him, they have no idea how Y/N manages to decipher it.

"I have no idea what's going on but I'll take it as a miracle, I was just going to suggest ignoring Charlie these 2 weeks." Jeremy jokes, everyone nods their heads.

“I mean, it’s still a good option.” Madison replies.

The 14 days go by quickly, and with the former couple spending time together daily, rehearsing Charlie's guitar solos together, with Y/N translating his horrible scribbles, or sometimes simply being close to each other enjoying the company, absentmindedly placing their hand on the other's leg or their forehead on their shoulder for a few seconds during the breaks.

Basically the whole team has noticed the flirtatious smiles and the looks, but Charlie was the weakest rival of both and the one who could release some information about it, and without being able to speak they basically ran out of an informant, since the young singer didn’t let go a word about her unexpected chemistry with the guitarist except the typical ‘we are just good friends’.

But without a doubt the energies began to multiply on Monday when Charlie arrived with the green light to be able to speak and start singing in rehearsals. Madison couldn't attend the first few hours because she was at school, so Y/N was going to cover her so the boys could practice.

“The first on the list is Finally Free, the place where we are going to record it only gave us two weeks from now so it will have to be one of the priorities. For the first rehearsal just vibe with the song and we’ll discover where to go from there. Oh, and good luck keeping up with my golden star, you’ll need it."

Y/N starts the first verse on the keyboard, and gets up to sing the chorus in the center, trying to ignore Charlie and looking up at Jeremy. She hadn’t heard him sing for a couple of years, but the same butterflies appear in her stomach and she knows that she will melt if she looks into his eyes.

Unfortunately for her, Kenny doesn't have the same plan, and just before the second verse ends he tells her to walk over to Charlie, who immediately smiles and sings the pre-chorus with much more enthusiasm. The energy they radiate floods the place, both getting closer and closer. By the time the bridge arrives, their foreheads are practically against each other, their lips only an inch apart, and with a confidence and comfort while singing to each other that makes all those who suspected that there was something between them now practically sure.

Luckily there are only Jeremy, Kenny, Owen and Paul in the room, who decide to play a game of divide and conquer now that the snitch part of the equation can speak.

“Y/N, can you come with me for a moment? I have a new idea for ‘Wow’ and a fresh pair of eyes is just what I need.” Paul says, sacrificing himself for the greater good.

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right back.” The singer takes the opportunity to leave this staring game with Charlie and quickly walks away from the guitarist, who winks at her in a flirting way in response.

The moment they walk out the door, everyone turns to see Charlie, who has no idea what they're up to.

“What?”

"After what just happened you just can't keep pretending nothing's happening. Man, that was more intense than the whole Troyella moments during all three movies." Kenny pretends to be offended for a second and then nods.

"I have never seen anything like this in all my years of career."

“Yeah dude it was electric.” Owen replies, smirking.

“She’s my person.” Charlie mumbles.

If he’s being honest with himself, deep down he always knew she was the only one for him. But that realization was freaking scary. What's next if the only person for you has already turned the page? gave up without a fight? what's left?

"What?" The three ask in unison, and Charles begins to sing like a bird.

“We grew up together and then we lost the way. Like in those romantic movies where just everyone knows they belong together except the childhood best friends and then they end up ruining their lives by being in denial.”

“From what I saw getting back on track shouldn't be too difficult, Charlie. I assure you that whatever you feel she feels it too. Her eyes don’t lie." Jeremy tries to reason with him.

“Leave your teen problems behind. You are old enough to decide what you want and find a way to make it work. But you have to stop pretending that nothing is happening first." Owen scolds his friend.

“Do you love her?” Jer asks.

“That answer is always going to be yes, I just could never stop loving her even If I tried. And I did.” He really did. The surprise he got when the second he had her close to him his heart began to beat like crazy and all he wanted was to hug her and fix everything. It was as if when seeing her eyes time hadn’t passed, as if only the day before they’d been goofing around together. That bond is so big that he doesn’t believe it’s possible to break.

“Then do something about it, bro! Go get your girl back!” Jeremy advises while Kenny smiles.

“Yeah man, it’s ‘Now or never’ like her song, and I guess ours too now? Since she wrote it for Sunset Curve? Well, anyway, it’s like our song says.” Owen exclaims excitedly.

“Ohhh, musical inspiration, let me try. ‘Get up, get out, relight that spark’.” Jeremy sings to Charlie.

“Jer, you are a genius. If you think about it wake up is actually a pretty good soundtrack song for this situation. ‘It's not what you lost, It's what you'll gain raising your voice in the rain’.”

They both keep singing the song until they reach the bridge, Charlie tries to look frustrated but a slight smile escapes his face.

They are right, he still hasn't lost this fight.

👻PART 2 RIGHT HERE

#jatp fanfic #jatp imagine #jatp fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie one shot #jatp luke #luke patterson fic #luke patterson x reader

[explosionshark]

how to live here!

here's a special deleted scene that was supposed to go in one of the chapters after rachel and chloe start fighting, but i never really found a place where it made sense. but i always liked it too much to delete it.

The first time Chloe had talked about hanging out in a junkyard, Max had kind of assumed she’d been joking.

She’s been here a few times already since her return to Arcadia Bay, but the novelty of it still hasn’t worn off. Chloe doesn’t seem to mind, letting her wander off, camera in hand, to explore and take photos by herself until she’s halfway through a roll of film and finally satisfied.

Max lets the sound of breaking glass lead her back to Chloe and snaps one more picture. Chloe, broken off hockey stick poised at the highest arc of a big swing, aimed at the sun-bleached head of a mannequin perched atop a splintered milk crate like a fucked up golf ball on a tee.

The arc of the swing is completed. The head goes flying with a sharp crack, landing in a pile of scrap a few feet away. Chloe holds the stick up over her head and cheers.

“You get that, Max?” she calls over her shoulder. “One for the highlight reel.”

“Got it,” Max confirms, reaching up to withdraw the Polaroid as it’s ejected from the camera. She closes the distance between them to show Chloe the shot.

“Sick,” Chloe says, and then twirls the stick in her fingers. “Y’know, I never used to allow press in here before, but maybe that was a mistake. A few more like that and maybe I can finally catch some attention from the big leagues.”

“I can’t imagine they can ignore skills like yours for very long,” Max grins, leaning up on her tiptoes and craning her neck to try to spot the mannequin head in the garbage.

Chloe grins again and mimes another swing. “Wanna take a shot? Ride out my hot streak?”

“I’m good,” Max says.

Chloe nods and shrugs and swings again abruptly, for real, putting the end of the hockey stick through the screen of a boxy old TV on the ground suddenly and loudly enough to make Max jump.

“You sure?” She props a boot on the corner of the TV to hold it in place as she yanks the stick loose. “It’s hella cathartic. You’ve always struck me as having more rage than you’re willing to own up to.”

“Do I really?” Max asks, a little alarmed.

“Maybe I’m projecting,” Chloe concedes.

They wander further, Max trailing behind as Chloe beats the ever-loving shit out of anything even vaguely breakable in her path.

“Remember when you actually played?” Max asks, after the fifteenth minute of uninterrupted smashing.

Chloe pauses, turning on her heel and drawing the bandage on her arm across her forehead to wipe away a bead of sweat. “Oh hell yeah. They called me The Destroyer.”

“No they didn’t,” Max rolls her eyes. “Only you called yourself that.”

“Me and both our dads,” Chloe points out. “Yours even made a sign.”

“Oh yeah,” Max laughs. “Y’know, I think you were the hockey hooligan kid he always wanted. I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or relieved when I quit the team.”

Her dad was a huge hockey fan and had been elated when she and Chloe had agreed when he showed them the newspaper ad he’d found seeking players for the local youth hockey team. William and their mothers had been a little more hesitant, Max remembered, but no one enough to really object to their joining.

Chloe took to it immediately, aggressive, competitive, and already more naturally athletic than Max had ever been. Max’s tenure was only a week long, but she’d remained a devoted fan of the team long after, going along with her parents to every game, home and away.

“Relieved, I think,” Chloe speculates. “You were a really small twelve year old.”

“I was appropriately sized for twelve,” Max protests. “You were tall.”

“Pint-sized,” Chloe teases. “Microscopic. Besides, you never had the heart for it. The bloodlust.”

“I liked the skating part. But yeah, you always had more fun with it than me. Did you ever get back to sports?”

Chloe shakes her head, quick and jerky, almost offended. “I never liked sports. I liked hockey ‘cause you guys would always come to my games and stuff. But then…after…”

Chloe missed the first couple weeks of practice, after William had died. It was Max’s dad that got her to go back, at Joyce’s insistence, hoping that the sport could be an outlet, that trying to preserve as much normalcy as possible would help Chloe deal with her grief.

Max and her dad had stayed in the bleachers through that first practice without William. Chloe’s play had been sloppier, and she’d left the ice early, face splotchy and red, thick hot tears running down her face into her jersey. It hadn’t gotten easier from there. It made sense that Chloe had stopped going entirely once Max’s family had moved.

“Anyway, can you even imagine me playing for Blackwell?” Chloe scoffs, brings the hockey stick down on the windshield of an old beat up car. The first blow sends a spiderweb of cracks all through the glass. The second penetrates, a small, fist-sized hole. The third, fourth, and fifth obliterate it completely.

Max closes her eyes, chases the images of a young, grief-stricken Chloe from her mind with this new fantasy. Chloe, hair undyed, strutting through the halls in a red and white letterman jacket. Chloe doing keg stands with Logan and Zach. Chloe with girls like Victoria and Juliet hanging off her arms. Chloe completely and totally ignoring a nerd like her.

“Okay, it’s a little weird,” Max admits, feeling a little embarrassed for the irrational churning in her gut. “You’ve never really been a joiner, huh?”

“Organized sports are so not punk rock,” Chloe says obnoxiously.

“It’s kind of hard to imagine you at Blackwell at all,” Max admits. “I wish I’d come back sooner. Y’know, before you left.”

Chloe’s quiet and Max knew it was a risk to go there at all, but it feels too true to keep to herself so she keeps speaking.

“I didn’t choose to be gone, but,” is it brave or stupid to do this now, actually? Has Chloe been waiting for an apology or will this just make things needlessly awkward and uncomfortable and painful? “I mean I wish I’d handled it differently. That we’d talked more while I’d been away.”

“Yeah,” Chloe shrugs. It feels like Max is on the verge of losing her, so she hurries on before the silence between them stretches too far.

“Can I be honest with you?” Max asks, stomach twisting in knots.

Chloe raises an eyebrow and nods for her to continue.

“I kind of thought,” she pauses and winces. “I mean, I was a little afraid that after I left you just. Wouldn’t want anything to do with me. That you’d replace me.”

“Max, what the fuck?” Chloe lets the words out in a harsh exhale and Max knows that tone of voice. Knows she’s pissed off for real, now.

“I know,” Max cringes, scrubbing a hand down her face. “But, I mean, you were always the cool one, right? And you were going into high school and I was still sleeping with a teddy bear and—”

“This is such bullshit,” Chloe’s voice cracks and Max was not expecting that. “You’re not just— You can’t just replace a best friend! I fucking needed you. I was so… I needed you so much and you hung me out to dry because you were scared I’d stop thinking you were cool?”

“No,” Max hurries to clarify, feeling appropriately breathless for the desperate, drowning sensation overwhelming her. “No, not like that. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it. So, I just kept putting it off, y’know? Like with homework. Remember how many times my mom had to bail me out because I’d wait too long on finishing a project and it wouldn’t be ready by the due date? Only no one could bail me out this time. And the longer I waited, the worse I felt, the more sure I was that you hated me, that you’d scream at me and tell me to stay out of your life. And I was too scared to face that so I…”

“I never hated you,” Chloe says, face caught somewhere between fury and despair. “Fuck, for the longest time all I wanted was to leave here, to be where you were instead.”

“The night you called me,” Max cuts in gently, proud at least when her voice doesn’t shake, “when you tried to run away, I was so scared for you. And I felt guilty because I realized I was wrong, that you still wanted to be my friend, and I knew I didn’t deserve it. I cried myself sick on the ride down with my mom to pick you up. It really freaked her out. But when we got there you just hugged me and you let me hold your hand the entire way back to Arcadia Bay.”

Chloe stays silent, chewing her lip hard enough to make Max wince.

“And even after, even though we were talking again the entire time I was away I’d think about being back here instead. I think about all the years I missed with you and I get mad because it feels kind of like my fault. Like if I’d tried harder it wouldn’t have taken this long. But I can’t fix that now, I know, I’m just glad we’re here now.”

Chloe shakes her head, rough, and throws the beat up hockey stick into a pile behind her. “Max, you fucking—”

She cuts herself and stomps over and Max isn’t sure what she was expecting, but she’s definitely surprised when Chloe wraps her arms around her, drags her close until there’s almost no space between them.

As tight as the hug is, Chloe’s hands hovering over her back are gentle. She’s quiet but her breathing’s rough. It takes a long time for her to speak again; when she does her voice is shaky, quiet. “I never, ever hated you, but I was pissed at you for a really long time.”

“I’m sorry,” Max tries to say but Chloe squeezes her tighter until she falls quiet.

“I got tired of it,” Chloe says. “And it wasn’t fair, either. Not really. We were just kids. God, I fucked so many things up so much worse than that. You don’t know how bad. If you did, you’d think I’m so pathetic. You’d hate it.”

“Chloe Price, you’re so many things, but pathetic has never been one of them,” Max insists, a little startled by the steel in her voice. Chloe tenses in her arms, but doesn’t move away so Max continues, gentler, “I wish I’d been here more. I know you weren’t alone the whole time but still, if I could go back and change anything it’d be trying harder to be a bigger part of your life. It’d be not letting it take so long to get here.”

It’s stupid, she knows, it’s ridiculous to think she could have prevented any of the hard knocks Chloe had taken in her absence but the thing is she’ll never know and Max thinks that she’ll probably always feel responsible somehow.

“God, imagine if we’d had a few years together at Black-Hell,” Chloe says and releases her, finally. She stays close, pushes some hair out of Max’s face. “We would have gotten into so much trouble. Me, you and…” She trails off with a wince but doesn’t linger. “You could have cheated off my science papers. I’d trade you rides around the Bay for homework.”

“Hey,” Max laughs. “Presumptuous. How do you know I would have compromised my morals like that?”

“Oh, you would have,” Chloe says, laugh all low and breathy. “When have you ever been able to say no to these baby blues?”

She bats her lashes facetiously, but the blush staining Max’s face is very real. “Okay, whatever. What else would we have done?”

“Oh, pranks,” Chloe says. “No doubt. We would have pranked it up so hard on those nerds. I always had this idea about semi-permanent hair dye and Victoria’s shampoo bottles, but I never lived in the dorms. And for some reason, Rachel refuses to be my inside man on this one.”

“I’d be down,” Max blurts out, not sure what the sudden pained look on Chloe’s face could have been leading to, but desperate to head it off.

“Wait, for real?” Chloe asks, appropriately distracted and Max realizes suddenly that her hypothetical assent to collusion had just been offered in practice.

“Uh, I mean—”

“No take-backs,” Chloe crows, gleefully. “Holy shit, dude, yes. Okay, I’ve got it worked out pretty well, this is something I’ve been sitting on for a few years at least. First, we’ll need a distraction…”

Chloe’s plan is elaborate, but thorough, and by the time she’s done laying out the details Max isn’t sure she’ll be able to follow through, but she does know that whatever lingering doubts about their friendship she’d had this morning were founded in one-sided insecurity.

“Let me sleep on it,” she says, finally.

“Max,” Chloe whines. “You promised.”

“I did not.”

“I mean, practically.”

“No, I didn’t.”

It’s almost like being a kid again, arguing about something pointless under the midday sun, a little dehydrated but having too much fun together to do something sensible like go back inside. Max has missed this for so long.

She’s deliriously happy she won’t ever have to miss it again.

#life is strange #pricefield #how to live here #ask games #explosionfic

[weirdcanucks]

Highlighting Canucks Podcasts #2 - Area 51 Hockey Podcast

Here is an excerpt from Area 51 Hockey Podcast in which guest Brock McGillis discussed in length about the concrete steps to change hockey culture. I transcribed this powerful message. Listen to the full episode where McGillis shared his journey from closeted goaltender in OHL, to the verge of suicide, to becoming an influential advocate for the LGBTQ+ community here 🎧[x]

Sam If Hockey Canada or any one of those leagues were to, say, hire you in the role that Kim Davis kind of has in the NHL, but with more concrete actions than I think Davis has been able to do in the NHL, what what are kind of the first things you would do in that role?

Brock McGillis I would recognize all the issues. I think that is the first step. You need to recognize all the issues. And in terms of social issues and why they exist. And I've already thought this all through, and I know them all. Hockey is incredibly insular, arguably of all sports, maybe the most insular. And let's keep it to male team sports for now. Most sports are played at schools. Hockey is not. Even school teams don't play at school. Hockey is played when you sent off to arenas, when you're isolated in arenas. And then if we take like elite hockey, let's say you're matched up based off your age group. So from the age of 7, through the age of 15, you're with essentially the same kids six nights a week for eight or nine months of the year. And with the same coaches in a room who came from the same culture. And you're together there more than you are with your family, than anywhere else besides maybe school. And even at school, most of them go to school together and hang out with hockey players at school. So you have this insular environment and the way the culture is set up right now, they tend to majority come from similar socioeconomic backgrounds, are predominantly white. They are presumed to be straight and all these things. So let's just take that. So from the age of seven, you start talking the same walking, the same dressing, same because you're around each other so much. And we've known society people become products of their environment.

So you grew up, then by the time you hit 16, you moved away from home. I don't know any other sports where that happens. You are that young. So you move away from home or as consistently as in hockey. You move to this new community with 22 other hockey players who have moved away from home into this community and each other essentially. And now you're together seven days a week and you're out the arena even longer. And then you're traveling around the province or whatnot, northern the United States or in the WHL across multiple provinces. And you're together all the time. So once again, that culture of the language you use, the way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... you're going to start to mimic each other. It's normal and it influences the older players, influences the younger players, just like in minor hockey. The culture is continuously copied and the cycle is vicious. And they're also influenced by the coaches who came from the same culture and management who talk the same way, dress the same way, act the same way, etc. Then once they hit like Junior and whatnot, they go home in their off season. And who are they going to hang out with? Their buddies they grew up with. And the only people they really spent time with are the hockey players they've hung out with since they were seven. And they're going to train for hockey, then go back and do it again the next year. And it's over and over and over. That's the reason why they're not exposed to anything else. And they're taught put your head down, worry about hockey. You're not allowed to have hobbies. It's very conformist. You're not allowed to enjoy anything else besides hockey. And in locker rooms, all you can talk about are partying girls and hockey when you're a teenager. So you have that aspect. OK. So that's kind of the root reason why this exists. And then you see the social issues are the biggest problems and hurdles in hockey culture.

OK, to recognize each one. And then what do you do? In my opinion, you start off by humanizing them. We're seeing society right now through the Black Lives Matter movement that even hockey players are speaking out publicly. Something that they kind of knew existed but didn't know because players probably didn't say how racist the sport and culture is to them, because they have either conformed or afraid to, in a sense don't really speak out on matters because then they are "the other" and they are seen as different. So they kind of have to fly under the radar. Same as being gay. But we're seeing in society that when things have been humanized for these players, they've spoken on it. So you need to humanize it, and I think the easiest way to humanize these things are taking hockey people who have the lived experience within the sport to humanize it. I'm very fortunate that I am masculine presenting, I am cis gender, I am a white man who happens to be gay that grew up in hockey culture and also worked in hockey culture afterwards. So I can infiltrate that culture very easily. And so when I go into a room and speak to players, it may have and it's sad to say, but it's just reality, a little more impact than somebody who's never been in the culture trying to talk about being gay in hockey, and the impact of being gay in society and the language we use and and whatnot. So we need people with the lived experience within it, who understand it, to humanize the issues for the masses within the sport and for the parents and for the coaches. Because then once it's humanized, hockey people are softies. They act like these tough, rugged, hypermasculine men, but they're actually real soft. And you can tug at their heartstrings and you can pull at them a little bit. And when you do, they become more engaged. They'll be willing to learn. You just got to teach them why they need to learn.

And we haven't done that, so that would be my first step. And then from there and take educators like Courtney, educators like Cheryl MacDonald, like, there's so many out there who study the different areas within the sport of hockey. And they're not utilized. They're not utilized by the culture. And it's so foolish to me that we have people in Canada who study this stuff for a living and are the best in their fields. And hockey isn't utilizing them? So from there, after you humanize the issue, you have academics that can put the programs together in a manner because they've been in the culture that people will relate to it, want to learn it and be a part of it, instead these stupid videos.

Then once we've done that, we have to break the conformity of the sport. So one exercise I do when I go into locker room after humanized through my story, my struggle and how I empowered myself, et cetera. I do a little breakout where I will try and break the conformity by saying, "OK, you tell me that you're going to fight together and you're there for each other. They're your bros. Yet all you're allowed to talk about are women, partying and sports. Share something with me you wouldn't typically tell a teammate that you enjoy." So I started thinking about it and I did a podcast with Ben Fanelli and Ben's really insightful guy. You should read his story sometime, if you don't know. It's pretty fascinating. And I said "Ben could imagine being in a locker room and reading a book for fun?" He's like, "oh my God, you'd be harassed." And like, “yeah, you'd be the fag.” He goes, "Yeah." And I start thinking about Dougie Hamilton. Dougie Hamilton is a six foot five defenseman who can skate, and he's a right handed shot, that should be every team's dream. He is a point per game defenseman in the NHL. He's been traded twice because he can't fit into the culture, because instead of going for beers and drinking and partying and all that, he enjoys reading. He enjoys museums. He loves history and art. Like when did knowledge and the pursuit of knowledge become a bad thing? But it is in this culture, which is one of the issues, which is why everyone's so fearful of allowing people like myself in, allowing the academics in, or allowing anyone else in to shift it. Because then where's their place? Right? So you need to break down those barriers of culture. So one time I went into, I had a player, say, a major junior team, a tough guy, stood up and said, "I love writing poetry." Then another kid stood up and said, "if I don't make the NHL, I want to be a zoologist." Then a first year player literally jumped out of his seat and said, "I love animal documentaries." And the coach stood up and said, "I love Broadway musicals. And my wife and I go to them every summer." Now they're bonding on a deeper level. Now, hopefully, if that continues, at some point, they can stand up and proudly talk about being Muslim in a locker room. Then the gay kid could stand up and say, I have a boyfriend, and we stop judging people for their differences and recognize we're all different. But we've conformed to a culture, because I know, personally, I can walk into any mall in Canada and I will tell you which kids play hockey. I go to school, as part of my speaking is going to schools because I am passionate about shifting culture within youth, because I think it's the only way we're going to ever fix things. And we saw it with the zoomers in Trump's rally the other day. It's phenomenal. But I think they're the ones who are going to fix humanity. And I actually ask questions. And when I do, I intentionally pick out the kids I know are hockey players, because I can tell looking at them and I go "you play hockey, right?” And they say, "yeah."

Then from there we have to put in better systems to evaluate coaches. Teachers have to go to school for how long to become a teacher to work with children. But these coaches spend as much, if not more time, and they take a little course online, like really? And they're influencing society and future generations? We have to invest more in the system we put in place or evaluating them. We should have people that are third party on each team, to ensure that nothing is done out of line with the coaches and we have to continue engaging with them and teaching them, because this can be more difficult for them because they're older. And they've been ingrained in this culture. Or, in this culture longer, it's ingrained in them.

Then after that, put rules in. After that, put punishments in. And suspension or fine is not gonna do anything. All you're doing is telling them just shut up so it won't be as obvert. But it's still going to exist. The problems will still exist. At that point, they should have to sit down with people either within the culture or the academics and do deeper dives into why this is happening and sit down with the parents and find out why they're making comments like this. Like I saw a video recently of Tony DeAngelo and and how his father said, "yeah, I said the same stuff." Well, we should sit down and help educate them so this doesn't exist any longer, instead of just a five games suspension and then they're back, and all of a sudden they're saying worse things. Or, for that matter, most of the time the suspensions aren't even called because referees and officials don't want to ruin kid's career and don't want to get this kid labeled or they may be homophobic, racist, sexist themselves. So they don't call it.

And so the whole culture has to be reformed. And I think those are the steps in reforming it. And if you do punishment first, which has been done or any leagues will argue they do. It doesn't work. It doesn't work! I've been looking at this every day for four years. And this is the only path I see the shifting in it. And it seems it's doable. Why wouldn't it be? They charge thousands and thousands of dollars. You can't put money towards this? And investing in people's futures?

#nhl #hockey #hockey culture #lgbtq #brock mcgillis #canucks podcasts

[katdvs]

When Riley Matthews was in high school her life changed, now as a professional dancer she’s got a new challenge when she’s paired with professional football player Lucas Friar on the latest season. Can they win the season, or will their past get in the way?

Cross Posted to FFN & AO3

Chapter One:

Ever since she was in the eighth grade, Riley Matthews woke up early in the morning. Before the sun would kiss the sky, Riley would take a modern dance class. It was all her own, she didn’t have to share it with her friends. When things got to be too much, she was able to escape in those early morning hours in the world of dance.

It was her sophomore year of high school that one of her friends discovered her sanctuary, Zay who had always talked about dance showed up one morning for the same class. He was in awe of Riley as she showed off a piece she’d been working on for the recital. It wasn’t long before they became dance partners, and both started taking more classes of different styles.

At the end of the school year there was a talent show, Riley and Zay had decided it was a great chance to show off the piece they had been working on. They had kept their partnership a secret until that night. Everyone else had been busy with their own practices to realize that while they were off getting ready for the city-wide science fair, or football and baseball season, or the art shows, they were dancing, choreographing together.

That night Zay and Riley danced to an old Celine Dion song, not only surprising their friends and family—but also being discovered by a television producer.

Everything changed after that night.

Except that Riley Matthews woke up early in the morning. Now at the age of 27 she woke up in a beach house, in Los Angeles. Instead of sneaking off to early morning dance classes she did Pilates on her deck, with the sound of the waves crashing, before Zay would start the blender going with their morning protein shakes.

Today started like any other day, but both were nervous. “If I get another Disney star, I swear I’ll scream. I hate having to stop for snack time.” Zay poured the protein shakes into their travel cups.

Riley laughed, “Please the last three seasons I’ve gotten the old men. Unless they get me like America’s Favorite TV Dad as a partner, I’m back in the troupe week 4.”

Zay chuckled, it was true, neither had gotten the best partners the last few seasons. They were both due for some actual contenders. “At least when you’re in the troupe you get to choreograph the group numbers.”

“I want to win, I know with the right partner I’ll be able to do it.” Riley shrugged before taking a drink from her shake, “We’ll find out in what, two hours when we meet our new partners.”

“Sure will, but you’ll always be my favorite.” Zay chuckled, just as a dish towel was thrown at him.

“I better be.” Riley laughed as she backed out of the kitchen, “I’ve got to take a shower and run an errand before our call time. I’ll see you at the studio though. I hope you get the up and coming pop star.”

“Well I hope you get the sexy athlete who wants to prove he’s more that someone chasing a ball.” He called out as he heard her feet going up the stairs.

Zay started cleaning up when he saw his phone start to come alive and the picture of his best friend, and Riley’s first love came up on the screen. Quickly he tapped to answer, “Hey Man, what’s going on?”

He stood in his kitchen blinking as he listened to his friend on the other side. “Yeah, um, we’ve got a spare room. I’m sure she’ll be okay with it. Why are you in town?”

Zay laughed, “Fine, don’t tell me. Keep your secrets. What time are you going to be in, because I’ll be honest, I don’t know where Riley put the hide-a-key, and I have to check with her.” He waited for an answer, “Oh, yeah one of us should be home by then. I’m sure she’ll be fine with this. I’ve got to get ready for work though, so I’ll see you tonight.”

#

Riley looked at her phone, she was late. She knew she was late. She’d already called and told them she would be late, and why. Right now, she was waiting for the mechanic to come back with the keys for her rental car while they repaired the heater core in her Jeep.

She’d noticed a leak in the passenger side the night before. She thought it would be an easy fix, she really should’ve googled it first. It would take a few days for it to get repaired.

She had made the mistake of getting a large iced coffee while she was originally waiting, and now the caffeine and sugar were surging through her body. Right now, she should be teaching some former sitcom star the basics of a waltz.

“Here you go.” He came out from the office and dropped a set of keys in her hand, “Sorry it will take a few days.”

“It’s okay, thank you.” Riley finished signing her paperwork before giving him a smile. “Just call me as soon as it’s ready, I love my Jeep.”

“Will do Ms. Matthews, have good rest of the day.” He took the paperwork, watching as she dashed out to the rental car waiting for her.

As soon as Riley was in the driver seat, she texted that she was on her way. She wasn’t too far from the studio but hadn’t been close enough to walk. This wasn’t the way to start a new season. This was not the way to start a season she could win.

She wanted to win.

She needed to win.

Zay had won two seasons before.

Riley had gotten close a few times, she made it to the final three several seasons in a row, but the last few had been relegated to getting the older men as partners, who just no matter how hard they worked, wouldn’t be able to win unless America really fell in love with them, and they hadn’t.

She sighed as she waited in traffic, she could at least keep working on the choreography for that musical the network was producing. Plus, she and Zay were putting together a road show with a few of the other dancers for the summer.

Finally, traffic was moving as she made her way down the familiar streets to the studio, pulling into the lot. Thankful that most of the paparazzi wasn’t aware today was the first day. They at least had a week before the stars were revealed.

She parked in the only free space she could find and quickly moved up the stairs to the entrance. Producers were waiting for her.

“I’m so sorry,” she started as they handed her the mic pack.

“Riley don’t worry. It’s okay. Your partner is in studio 5.” The producer, a woman about her age named Sheryl smiled, “I think you’ll approve of this season’s pairing.”

“Have I ever actually not?” Riley looked to her friend.

Sheryl threw her arm around Riley’s shoulder, “I promise your partner isn’t like the Dad from an old TGIF sitcom. In fact, he might be one of the most sought-after bachelors in America.”

Riley rolled her eyes, “Great, I can’t wait. I can already see the twitter and Instagram messages saying I’m stealing someone’s man.”

They stood outside the studio door, “Actually, I think America is going to love the two of you together. And maybe, if possible, flirt with this guy. Get people thinking something could happen, at the very least it should stir up some fanfare.”

“I’m still doing the cha-cha week one, right?”

“Yes, here’s the music, now go in their and let the sparks fly.” Sheryl insisted.

Riley paused, “If I go in their and it’s some Disney channel ‘tween I’m going to kill you, you know that right?”

“Yes, I promise it’s an adult male, and when you see him, you will drool.” Sheryl was practically drooling herself.

Riley took a deep breath, knowing in a minute she would be on camera for hours while she and someone she didn’t know tried to dance together. She said a silent prayer before she finally opened the door.

Sitting in the middle of the dance floor was a tall man, his back was to the door. His hair short, but a sandy blonde. His shoulders broad, his arms obviously strong, at the very least he probably looked amazing shirtless, that should get them a couple of weeks.

Riley could see the little bit of his wireless earbuds in his ears, maybe he was listening to the music, or a podcast. He was obviously an athlete, not Hockey, baseball maybe, but considering the time of year, most likely football.

She waved to the camera man, motioning for him to not let on she was there as she put her bag down by the door. As she stepped closer to her new partner, she could feel a charge in the air, a wave of nostalgia she couldn’t place considering the setting.

As she moved closer she didn’t see that he had his bag near him, or notice it’s long strap on the floor as for the first time in years, the klutzy Riley of her youth took her over in the blink of an eye she fell into his lap.

Riley was stunned.

This couldn’t be happening.

This couldn’t be real.

This couldn’t be him.

Those green eyes, she would know them anywhere. They were the first eyes she looked into and saw more than friendship. They were the first eyes she had seen heartbroken. They were the first eyes she saw darken with passion.

She smiled, “Hi, I’m Riley Matthews, your new dance partner.”

“Lucas Friar, I’m a football player, not a dancer.”

She felt a chill down her spine, “I’ll make you a dancer.” She stood up, trying to hold her composure while trying to comprehend what was happening.

Of all the men who could end up on this show, of all the men she could be partnered up with, how did Lucas Friar, her first love end up here?

#

Zay came out of his studio laughing, shaking his head. His partner was hilarious, and if she focused, she could make it a few weeks, maybe even further. He saw Sheryl looking at one of the monitors, a smile on her face. “I know, me and Connie, we’ve got it.”

Sheryl swatted him, “Look, I’ve got TV gold this season with who I paired Riley with.”

He looked at the screen, eyes wide, “Is that Lucas Friar, of the New York Giants?”

“It sure is.” Sheryl couldn’t wipe the smile off her face if she had wanted to, “Riley went in there, and Zay I’ve never in all these years seen anything like it. It was a legitimate meet cute like in a rom-com. She tripped over his bag strap and fell in his lap.”

Zay covered his mouth, nodding, hoping he wouldn’t give anything away. So, this was why Lucas was in town, oh Riley was going to probably murder him later tonight. While Sheryl couldn’t see it, he could see the terror, the control in both Riley and Lucas. “You know Riley, she is just friends with anyone she dances with. She’s resisted this all these years.” He joked, but he knew, he could see it, Riley and or Lucas were going to end up heartbroken.

“Lucas Friar is considered one of the most eligible bachelors in the country. He’s sexy, smart, charming, a real Gentleman.”

“Well he always has been.” Zay slipped, “From what I’ve read.”

Sheryl looked at the dancer, “Shouldn’t you get back to Connie, I think you two have what the foxtrot for week 1?”

“We do, I was just going to grab us some waters. She’s not used to this sort of thing, but I think she’s got real potential.”

“She does, and I truly believe that you’re the best pro to bring it out in her. Just like, I think Riley was the right choice for Mr. Friar here.”

“I hope you’re right.” Zay told her before going to the fridge nearby for water, “I really hope so.”

#

Riley and Lucas were stretching on the floor, she’d gone over many basic moves throughout the morning. This was a quiet time she usually took to get to know her new partners. She’d held herself together for the most part today. She just had to get through a few more hours. “So, why do you want to learn to dance?” she asked everyone the same question—it was expected of her from the viewers.

“I don’t want to make a fool out of my Mom at her wedding” he looked up with a small smile on her face. “She wants to have a Mother and Son dance, and at the very least I want to make it, so I don’t step on her toes. Dancing was never my strong suit, but I swear since college I’ve been even worse on the dance floor.”

His mom was getting married? His parents weren’t together anymore? At one point in her life they knew just about everything about each other, now they were strangers thrown together my television producers.

She couldn’t wait for Zay to find out about this. Did they still talk?

“I promise, at the very least we’ll get it so you and your mom have a beautiful dance together at her wedding.” She stood up, moving across the studio floor to pick up the takeout bag of lunches that had been delivered. “But I also think if you do have the focus, and determination you could win this. I think you just have to believe it.”

Lucas watched Riley moving across the room. Years ago he’d been so bitter about her secret love of dancing, the fact that she took off with Zay on some dance tour, missing homecoming, Prom, the City Championship game that got him recruited to a big college. It wasn’t until his Junior year of college that he saw Riley and Zay on TV, performing together that he finally saw that it was her passion. “You think I could get you the trophy?”

“I think I can get you the trophy.” She smiled, wishing the cameras weren’t here. She just wanted this day over. Her mind wasn’t able to wrap around the idea that Lucas was seriously her partner, she anticipated that she would wake up any moment from this dream, as she always did.

Riley pressed play on a remote, music filled the room. It was the song they would be dancing to. As she sat down, with her food she realized what the song was. The Shoop Shoop Song wrapped around them, this was a nightmare, it had to be. “This is going to be an interesting Cha-Cha.” She laughed as she looked to the camera.

#

Zay rushed home, he was afraid of what Riley might say if she saw him at the studio. He also wasn’t sure he should really let Lucas stay at the house now. It had never occurred to him that Lucas would be on the show.

But of course, they would pair him with Riley. Put those two in each other’s orbit, and they would immediately be drawn to each other one way or the other. It would forever be out of their hands.

In all honesty, he wasn’t sure how Riley was going to react to being near him, or vice versa. He didn’t know who carried what animosity towards the other. He could remember how heartbroken Riley had been when Lucas broke up with her, how she’d tried to pretend that it didn’t hurt when she saw the picture on Instagram when Lucas and Maya won Prom King and Queen during their senior year of high school. He could also remember the sound of her crying in her bunk on the tour bus later that night.

“You are so lucky!” Riley’s voice called out from the garage door.

She didn’t sound murderous, so yeah for now he was lucky. He went towards the voice, gathering the grocery bags she carried, “Why am I lucky?”

“Because, you don’t have a past with your partner for the season.” Riley dropped a bag on the kitchen counter a moment later.

Zay knew he couldn’t play dumb, not when Lucas could arrive at any minute. “Who’d you get, Lucas?” he laughed, hoping she didn’t realize he knew.

“Yes.” She sighed, “And it gets better.”

Zay watched as she put food away in the fridge, “How?”

“I landed in his fucking lap.” Riley shook her head, “And the song we’re dancing to, The Shoop Shoop Song.”

Zay began unpacking a grocery bag as a sudden chill swept through his body, he knew he had to tell her. “So, speaking of Lucas. He called me this morning, he asked if he could stay here while in town and I told him yes.”

Riley slammed the fridge door closed as she pirouetted around to face him. “You what?”

“I told Lucas he could stay with us. I didn’t know he was going to be on the show. He didn’t tell me.” He defended as he waved an eggplant at her, “We’re 27 years old. It’s been like ten years since your breakup. Besides I figured you would barely see him because you would go into season mode.”

“Season mode?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“So, you tend to shut down in a way when you spend all day dancing with someone that’s not me.” He shrugged as he put some items away, “Like you still get up super early, do your morning routine, go to the studio, but when you come home you basically have dinner, and disappear into your room for hours on end. I figured if Lucas was here for a week or something shooting a TV commercial, you might run into him like once or twice, and that was it.”

“Zay, no one wants to be around their ex, how would you feel if I said, ‘Sure Claud, you can come stay with us.’ You would be pissed.”

“Yeah that was a year ago.” Zay rolled his eyes, “Not a decade. I mean it’s not like you fell in Lucas’ lap and still felt whatever it was you felt back in the day.”

“I need to lay down.” Riley sighed, “It’s been a long day, and I just need alone time.”

“Riley, can he stay here?”

She stopped at the staircase, “Fine, just can we keep all of this between us. I’m meaning, please don’t mention our past to Sheryl. The last thing anyone needs is to have them exploit the past.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Sheryl a thing okay. If I was going to, I would’ve when she was gushing over how America is going to fall in love with you and Lucas together this season since you fell in his lap.”

Riley spun to him again, “Wait, you knew before I told you that Lucas was my partner?”

“Yeah, I came out to grab waters today and Sheryl was watching you and Lucas on the screen. I kept my mouth shut. I was stunned. I never in a million years thought that Lucas would ever do this show. The man showed no interest in dance at all, so why would he give a damn now?”

“His Mom is getting married, and he doesn’t want to embarrass her at the wedding.” Riley shrugged.

“That makes sense.” Zay, could hear a little voice at the back of his head already sure that wasn’t the reason, “His parents have been divorced since he was in college.”

“I didn’t know you two still talked.” Riley didn’t really feel betrayed, maybe if she found out he still spoke to Maya—but that was a different story.

Zay took a step towards her, wrapping his arms around her, “Not all the time. He’s been my friend since we were riding sheep.”

Riley chuckled, “I know, I just, I guess I thought they were all behind us.”

The doorbell chimed throughout the house. Zay could feel Riley stiffen. “Go upstairs, take a shower. I’ll get him set up in the guestroom. I’m sure he’ll be ready to crash, I know how you work your partners to exhaustion.”

“Thank you,” she gave him a kiss on the cheek before rushing up the stairs.

Zay crossed the first floor, opening the door to Lucas looking half exhausted with his duffle bag over his shoulder. The grin on Zay’s face couldn’t be hidden for two reasons. The joy of seeing his best friend, also seeing how his ex-girlfriend had run him ragged during their first rehearsal. “Dude, what’s wrong?”

Lucas shook his head, “Had a crazy idea of going on a reality show, and pretty sure my partner is out to kill me in the first week.”

Zay chuckled, “Riley always works her partners hard.”

“You know?” Lucas came in the house, taking it all in. The sleek furniture, the crisp white walls, the glass doors leading out to the back-yard pool. “This is amazing, this is nicer than my penthouse.”

“It’s home.” Zay smiled as he walked to the stairs, “Kitchen is here, help yourself. Just if we’re low on the Apricot La Croix, leave it. It’s Riley’s go to after a long day.”

“Good to know.” Lucas followed Zay up the stairs, he could hear the ocean from an open window somewhere.

“Riley’s room is there, I’m down here, and you my dear oldest friend in the world are in here. I had the housekeeper put fresh sheets on the bed for you.” Zay found himself hovering near the door, “What was it like to see her again after all this time?”

“It was nerve-racking. She landed in my lap, and suddenly I was thirteen years old on a subway again.” Lucas released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in, “I just, I don’t know what I was expecting, what I wasn’t.”

“Its been a long time Lucas, just, please remember that.” Zay had a feeling the next few weeks were going to be very awkward and tense. “Hey, why aren’t you staying in a hotel, or at one of Farkle’s houses?”

“Farkle and I are not on speaking terms.” Lucas confessed as he tossed the duffle bag on the bed, “And I’m trying to stay away from the paparazzi. They’re everywhere, and well a certain artist in New York is trying to stir up rumors we’re dating.”

Zay took a few steps into the room, closing the door. “Wait, Maya?”

Lucas sighed, his eyes closed and it looked like he was partially holding back tears, “Yes, she saw a spike in sales after a picture of her, me, and Farkle made it to page six. We’d all been at a fundraiser auction for the Minkus Foundation. Farkle thinks I’m leading her on, Maya thinks we’re actually together, and I’m like no way in hell. We never were together, and we never will be.”

“You guys dated senior year of high school.” Zay reminded him.

“No, I was single.” Lucas stared at his friend, “I dated Chloe in college for like a semester, but that was really it. I’ve been focused on Football all this time.”

Zay took a few more steps towards his friend, “I was with Riley, the phone was on speaker when Maya broke the news to her. I heard it myself.”

“That bitch.” Lucas groaned, “I don’t even know. Its like Riley went on tour with you and no one was around to guide her. It was like she released her inner Regina George.”

Nodding Zay looked to Lucas, “I can see that. She always sort of had that essence brewing inside of her.”

“You two left, and it was, it was awful Zay.” Lucas sighed as he looked out at the view, “Farkle and Smackle ended up barely even at the school since they were in college level courses. Maya, she was always making assumptions about us. It was like we were back in that damn triangle again, I pulled away. I hung out with the football team, I went to parties on weekends. After Riley and I broke up, yeah, I made out with a few girls here and there, but it was never anything more.”

“Like I said Lucas, it’s been a long time. You’re not the same, Riley’s not the same, I’m not the same.” He shrugged, “Maybe this is a chance for Riley and you, me and you, to all become friends again. As who we are, not who we were.”

“For now, I just have to focus on Riley not murdering me during practice.”

“It’s only the Cha-Cha, just wait until Foxtrot, Jive, or Modern. She comes alive during Modern.”

“Why Modern?”

Zay opened the door, looking back at his old friend, “When it’s time, ask her.”

Lucas could only nod as Zay left him alone. He forced himself to get up, going into the sleek bathroom and turning on the shower. His body he hadn’t felt this exhausted since his rookie year playing for the Giants. He stripped out of his clothes, the steam already building up as he stepped into the glass enclosure.

He could finally breathe, relax for a moment. He knew he would see Riley again by being on the show. He just didn’t know that she would be his partner. He had hoped it would be her. Scrubbing his body he couldn’t remember the last time a shower had felt this deserved, this needed in years. He hadn’t worked as hard at anything in a while, not that he didn’t work hard at football, but it was different now.

Rinsing off he grabbed the towel to dry off. He pulled on his pajama pants and grabbed his phone before going out to the balcony. He took a snapshot of the view, the sun setting over the ocean. He thought about posting it on Instagram, but decided it wasn’t worth dealing with Farkle or Maya calling him. If he could stay off the grid for a little bit longer here, it would be better.

The last thing Lucas needed right now was Maya and Farkle invading his life. He was just trying to live his life, support a good cause, and yet was getting dragged into the gossip columns thanks to Maya. It drove him crazy that anytime they were at an event she would start planting seeds they were together. He thought she’d been over it after the triangle, after he and Riley got together.

He felt his phone vibrate as he looked down at the caller id, his Mom. “Hi Mom.”

“Hey Lucas, how did the first day go?”

“I’m exhausted, haven’t been like this since my rookie year.” He told her as he sat in the wicker chair near the door.

“That’s good. Did you call Zay?”

“I did Mom.”

“And Riley, have you seen her?”

Lucas sighed, his eyes catching the light from Riley’s room turn on, “Yeah, she’s gorgeous Mom.”

His mother chuckled, “Did she slap you?”

“No, not even close. She fell into my lap again. She’s my dance partner.”

“Oh wow.” His mother’s voice tensed up, “You know Maya and Farkle are trying to find out where you ran off to.”

“I know, and they don’t need to know. I have never once had any interest in Maya Hart, and if Farkle is going to enable her ridiculous ideas, then I can’t talk to them. I came out here to learn how to dance, I want your wedding to be perfect.”

“Honey, that’s sweet of you, but we both know I’m not the reason you’re doing this.”

“I don’t know what your talking about.” He watched as Riley stepped out on her balcony, her dark curls piled on top of her head. She had a can of sparkling water as she walked over to look out at the view.

“Lucas Friar, I’m your Mother, I know that you are trying to find out if your first love is the one. Remember son, you’re different now. You’re not teenagers. You’re a man, she’s a woman. You’ve had other relationships, you’ve had lovers.”

Lucas cringed as he listened to his mother. Watching Riley’s silohette in the sunset.

“I’m just saying Lucas, that you and she need to get to know each other again. You two had such wonderful conversations when you were younger. Start with that, and then see if anything develops. Lucas I’ve got to get going. I have to get to bed, I have an early meeting in the morning. Don’t worry, no one will every hear from me where you are. Love you son.”

“Love you Mom.” Lucas ended the call, seeing Riley turn around when she heard his voice.

“Hi.” She gave him a soft smile, “The shower pressure good for you?”

“Yeah, it was. Thanks for letting me stay. I’m trying to be as off the grid for a little bit.”

“Things okay in New York, and you know you’re going to be revealed as part of the show in like a week.”

“A week off the grid is better than no time. And once it’s revealed I’m on the show the person I’m hiding from won’t have the guts to show up.”

Riley nodded pretending she understood, “Hey, since the cameras aren’t around can I make a request?”

“Anything Riley.” He meant it, more than he expected as the words came out.

Riley knotted her fingers together as she looked up to Lucas, “Can we not bring up our past in front of the cameras, in front of the eventual press. If Sheryl or any of the other producers find out we were High School Sweethearts, they’ll exploit it. I don’t think that’s fair to you.”

“I won’t say a word.” He promised. He knew he should tell her about Maya, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know where they were friendship wise and one thing, he’d promised himself so very long ago was that he would never come between them.

“The kitchen has plenty of food, just please don’t drink the Apricot sparkling waters.”

“Zay warned me. Thank you, Riley.” He started towards the door before looking to her once more. “I promise I’m going to work hard every day we do this.”

“I know you will. Also I swear I’m not usually so klutzy.”

“I guess I bring it out in you.” He gave her a friendly smile, “Goodnight, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight Lucas, get some sleep. Today I was easy on you.” She informed him before going to her own door.

Lucas chuckled nervously, but he knew it was true.

#Rucas Fanfic #Rucas #Girl Meets World #Girl Meets World Fanfic #GMW Fanfic #Riley Matthews #Lucas Friar

[pucking-insane]

Secrets - Connor McMichael & Alexis Lafreniere

Player(s): Connor McMichael and Alexis Lafreniere Word Count: 1108 Warnings: None  There is some french in here, I just used google translate so if it’s wrong, tell me and I’ll fix it.

You grew up around the sport of hockey. Well, any Canadian kid did really. You had played in your youth, but when you screwed up your knee at the women’s world championship last year where you played defense for Team Canada, your career was cut short. So you stuck to cheering for your brother Alexis and the Rimouski Oceanic.

That was until Alexis made the cut to represent Team Canada at World Juniors in the Czech Republic. You were going to go with the team to Europe and cheer on your brother and his teammates.

“Y/N, remember, my teammates are off limits.” Alexis told you before you left. “I don’t want my sister to be canoodling or anything with those guys.”

“Fine.” You told him. “Whatever makes you happy.”

You stuck to your promise.

Well… That was until you met Connor McMichael. The 5’11” center from Ontario had caught your eye, and well, you caught his. You would hang out together after practices and the two of you just clicked.

So when Connor took you to dinner and asked you to be his girlfriend, you of course said yes. However, you did it without thinking.

“Con, what are we going to do about my brother?” You asked as you laid in bed with Connor watching a movie.

“Babe, we’ll figure it out. Laffy shouldn’t be too mad.” Connor pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Oh he’ll be pissed.” You sighed, cuddling into Connor’s side. “He specifically told me teammates were off limits.”

“He can’t just say that, Y/N. You’re his older sister, he can’t control you.”

“We never go back on our word though, Connor. He never dated one of my teammates.” You explained to your boyfriend.

“We’ll figure it out.” 

A month later, you were in the Czech Republic with your family cheering on Alexis (and your secret boyfriend) in the gold medal game. Alexis earned two assists on Barrett’s goal and Dylan’s goal. Connor scored a goal of his own, as well as assisting on Akil’s goal. 

You were elated! Your boyfriend and brother had just won gold in their biggest tournament. When Connor caught your eye, he tapped his heart three times. You repeated his actions and blew him a kiss. 

As the team was getting out of their equipment and celebrating their gold medals, Barrett brought up the lovey dovey moment he had witnessed on the ice.

“Hey, Connor, what was that thing with Y/N after the game about?” He asked.

“What thing?” Connor asked in response.

“When you tapped your chest three times. You were looking right at her, dude. And she did it back.” Barrett explained. “Are you two, like, a thing?”

“Yeah, McMichael, are you and my sister a thing?” Alexis asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I mean, yeah.” Connor sighed.

“Es-tu sérieux? Je pensais t'avoir dit de rester loin de ma sœur, qu'elle était interdite!” Alexis yelled. (Are you serious? I thought I told you to stay away from my sister, that she was off limits!)

“C'est ta sœur aînée, Alexis. Tu ne peux pas la contrôler.” Connor responded. (She’s your older sister, Alexis. You can’t control her.)

“Tu as fait une promesse! Tu m'as promis que tu ne ferais rien avec ma sœur!” (You made a promise! You promised me that you wouldn't do anything with my sister!)

“C'était avant de la connaître. C'est dur de ne pas tomber amoureux d'elle! Elle est gentille, attentionnée, douce, maladroite, elle me fait rire. J'adore Y/N, d'accord?” Connor yelled passionately, getting in Alexis’s face. (That was before I got to know her. It's hard not to fall in love with her! She's kind, caring, gentle, goofy, she makes me laugh. I love Y/N, okay?)

“Whatever.” Alexis walked away in anger.

“Great game, Alexis!” You said as you saw him walk out of the locker room, not knowing what had happened with Connor.

“Je ne vous parle pas.” Alexis replied shortly as he walked past you. (I’m not talking to you.)

Connor came out of the locker room next, a sullen look on his face. 

“Connor, you just won the gold medal! Why so sad?”

“He knows, Y/N. Your brother.” Connor whispered.

“So that’s why he’s mad?”

“Oh he’s pissed. Went full French on me.” Connor giggled, wrapping you in a hug.

“Let him be mad.” You sighed and cuddled into Connor’s chest. “I’m twenty years old, I think I can handle myself.”

The next day at breakfast, Connor joined your family for their meal before you were due to leave for the airport and head back to University.

Connor’s arm was draped around your shoulders and he was pulling you close. Your parents were getting along with your boyfriend and were able to joke and laugh with him. Alexis didn’t say three words to you or his teammate.

“I’m gonna go get some more bacon.” Connor said, grabbing his plate. “You want any, Y/N?”

“Yes, please.” You responded, smiling at your boyfriend. “Thank you.”

“Alexis, apologize to your sister.” Your mom said as soon as Connor walked away.

“Why?” Alexis scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “She was the one who broke a promise.”

“Alexis,” Your dad started. “Can’t you see she’s happy? Connor treats her like a queen. He has no intentions of breaking her heart.”

“Well he needs to prove me wrong.” Alexis scoffed. 

“Here’s your bacon, babe.” Connor said, setting the plate down in front of you. “And I know how much you love double chocolate chip muffins and they just put some out, so I grabbed one for you.”

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that.” You smiled at your boyfriend and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

“You are most certainly welcome.” He smiled back. “Hey, the city is really pretty in the snow, you 

wanna go for a walk after breakfast?”

“I would love to.”

Connor was certainly right. Ostrava was really pretty in the snow. The two of you walked around and took pictures for your Instagram profiles, Connor being the ideal Instagram boyfriend. Eventually you had a snowball fight right outside the hotel. Your giggles could be heard from the hotel, where Alexis was standing at the window.

He walked outside into the cool air and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“McMichael!” He yelled out to Connor.

“Are you going to yell at me in French again?”

“No.” Alexis sighed. “What I wanted to tell you was that I will support you and my sister. Although, brise son cœur et je te briserai.” (Break her heart, and I’ll break you.)

“Deal.”

#connor mcmichael #alexis lafreniere #team canada #hockey #wjc2020

[beatrice-otter]

Yuletide Recs 2019

Happy Yuletide, everyone! First, I got a delightful little fic written for me: promenade.  My Fair Lady, Eliza Doolittle and Mrs. Higgins.  Wonderful story.  Mrs. Higgins was superb, and Eliza's reactions to the English upper class abroad are perfect. Here are some other fics I have enjoyed: 4'33"--John Cage The Sound Of A Yuletide Fic Not Being Written. There sure are a lot of cars going by.  Great meta look at writing, and 4'33" The Addams Family (movies) An Addams Family Contract (Written in Secret, Signed in Blood).  “I’m an Addams,” Debbie protests indignantly. Immediately after making this statement, Debbie realized that it was true.  (Or, Wednesday wants to exorcise Debbie. Debbie wants to kill Wednesday. A negotiation begins.)  This is AMAZING and hysterically funny, and the thought of Debbie and Wednesday working together is TERRIFYING. Don't I Deserve Love (and Jewelry).  The plan to win Wednesday’s friendship did not start well. She shared her admiration for the girl’s blowtorch, then hinted about her own childhood affinity for matchsticks and fire accelerants, but Wednesday was unimpressed.  Do better,” she said before lowering her hockey mask and stalking after Pubert. Honeymoon in Transylvania.  Ahahahaha, this is wonderful.  Gomez and Morticia vs. the TSA! Alien Series A Room with a Crappy View. 17k of Ripley and Hicks awesomeness post-Aliens. This is an absolutely AMAZEBALLS fic, and I LOVE it. I love that they deal with their trauma. I love how they wrote the Colonel, doing the best she could on the evidence she had and how frustrating that was and yet, when you look at it from her POV, what better way could she have handled it? The action is great, the relationships between Ripley and Hicks and Bishop were awesome, this is an absolute treat. All About Eve Getting Back to Being a Woman.  Karen knew enough not to go to New Haven.  Never let it be said that Margo Channing doesn't know how to take care of her friends.  I love this. I could just hear Bette Davis and the others saying their lines, and the ending is perfect--I think Karen and Lloyd will be able to have a much better relationship after this, if he's willing to accept and live into the changed relationship. Till I have the possession of everything she touches.  Addison DeWitt/Eve Harrington and their daughter.  VERY well done Addison perspective. Aubrey-Maturin series. Vent de Boulet.  Jack & Aubrey, Teen.  The aftermath of Stephen's escape from the French interrogators at Port Mahon.  Wonderful portrayal of the relationship between them and natural consequences of their trauma-filled lives. Babette's Feast Body and Soul.  After the French dinner, a new normal established itself among the faithful. Ballet Shoes A Long Way from the Cromwell Road.  Petrova visits Pauline in Hollywood after the war ends. Bletchley Circle Logical Recovery.  After the showdown with Marta Magro at the warehouses, Jean, Millie, and Lucy embark for Glasgow to find Eliška. Archival research, an extended stay with Jean's cousin, undercover rescue missions, and much emotional processing of past events ensue. Cabaret Infinite Variety.  London, 1950. Clifford has coming looking for Sally. Instead he finds a girl who may or may not be her – or their – daughter, the reclusive former Master of Ceremonies, and an annoying parrot. He becomes part of their strange household, full of love and bickering; sorrow, pain and music. No-one will tell him where Sally is, or even whether she’s alive. No-one will tell him anything. Except the parrot, who tells him that life is a Cabaret.  Oh, wow, this is painful but SO GOOD and the ending is perfect. DC Teen Titans From Cold to Fire.  "Do you want to go out with me?" "What?" Young Justice Getting Stupid in your area.  Hang-time includes considerations of evil clones and taking down a newly raised lich lord.  Love the banter. Die Hard Your Answers Please.  “Come on, kid,” McClane said gruffly. “This place is fucking depressing. You’re coming to stay with me.” Enchanted Forrest Chronicles Best Served Cold.  In which Antorell causes trouble in the Enchanted Forest, and Cimorene and Alianora make an amphibious new friend.  Hilarious, I love Ribbita! Ghostbusters Better Than Roses. Janine dates. It's...something. The Goblin Emperor Imperial (non) Immunity.  Csevet doesn't get sick. Maia's not so confident. Light a Mourner's Candle.  The Archprelate finds a chaplain for Maia. Against a Sure Winter.  When the opportunity arose to become one of the four ceremonial bodyguards for the new Emperor, Cala Athmaza volunteered. He didn't fully realize what he was letting himself in for, but he knew in his heart he had made the right choice. Sugar Lumps.  Maia spends some time with his horse. Greek Mythology beauty, her artificers.  Shortly after their wedding, Aphrodite sustains a small wound.  Really great Aphrodite/Hephaestus dynamic. a thing of beauty, golden.  Olympus’ one-century wonder appears in Hephaestus’ workshop between one strike on his anvil and the next..  Another really great Aphrodite/Hephaestus fic. Hancock yeah I know the shortcut, rather take the long way. Ray daydreams a New York that looks a lot like something out of an old Daredevil comic - towers looming over the city like cragged, jaded sentries, impartial to the neon kaleidoscope of chaos churning along below them. Hancock roosts on the tallest, craggiest one of course, brooding as he watches the slow pulsing heartbeat of the city below him. Ready to dive off his perch and into action with the first cry of distress, and there’s probably lots of those in a city like New York. Lots of zooming around, saving people, saving the world. Hopefully with slightly less metaphorical middle fingers to the world. And less alcohol. Ray’s not an idiot though, and one sparkly life-changing month doesn’t just fix people. History RPF 15th Century. these late eclipses.  Anne Neville, like others of her line, is born with a gift.  I LOVE the way magic is brought into this, it melds so well with the history. 19th Century/German folklore The Bargain.  Bettina finds a secret door at her grandmother's house, one that leads to something very unexpected. The things she learns as a result change her life in small but important ways. Imperial Radch Still Left in Want of Mercy.  The Republic of Two Systems is about a month old. Seivarden is having yet another crisis - can Mercy of Kalr get her through it? Maybe, with the crew's and Fleet Captain's help.  Interesting Ship perspective. high above the trees.  An unexpected embassy. Really excellent, probably the best way I've ever seen "Awn Lives" done. The Incredibles Life of a Superhero, Junior Grade.  Fortunately, this was Tuesday night training, not a real villain-chasing experience. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell The Magicians of Starecross Hall.  Being a series of interludes in the life of John Segundus, newly practical magician, in the year following the disappearances of Messrs. Strange and Norrell. Including: a new school for young magicians, explorations of the King’s Roads, Lady Pole’s alarming needle-work, unanticipated trips to Faerie, and John Childermass.  I love this story!  How the school got started, and 'Miss Wintertowne' (although I do think she would style herself 'Mrs' Wintertowne, because she is married and up through the 18th Century 'Mistress/Mrs' vs. 'Miss' had as much to do with age and experience and such as it did with marital status) and how she uses embroidery as a kind of art therapy.  I love the slow burn, and I love the stuff about exploring the King's Roads and Faerie.  It is excellent and awesome. Lilo & Stitch The Dance.  Lilo peeked out from behind the curtains and looked over the stage. A Little Princess Discipulae.  "I just realized," Sara said. "Becky, I could have a tutor now. I could hire someone to teach me anything I wanted. All the things that are hard to learn alone from books — Greek and Latin, Sanskrit, algebra, anything I wanted. What would you learn, Becky, if you could?"  Really great look at what their lives could be like post-canon. Marvel Captain Marvel Take my hand (and we'll march to the front lines). There's a dream Vers has sometimes. this youthful heart can love you. Carol waited a week before she left with the Skrulls. Space Cases.  Monica tried many other times to win her mother over to a pet. A rabbit, a pony, a parakeet. This is not any of those stories. This is the story of Monica Rambeau and a Flerken named Goose.  Or: Why Nick Fury is never allowed to babysit ever again. The Tesseract's Wife.  A straight line is not the shortest distance between two points: non-linear snapshots of a love story. Fly Me To The Moon.  "It's a vacation. Like spring break," Carol says. Monica's eyes widen. "Really? So we can hang out? What are we going to do?" "Well," Carol says, leaning back in her chair and flashing that old, familiar smirk. "I thought we could go to the moon." Into the Spiderverse i got you.  Miles thinks he's hiding the truth about Spider-Man, but one unfortunate night, it comes to light. one last leap.  Telling his parents he's Spider-Man is a leap of faith Miles can't bring himself to take. My Life to Liv.  Liv survived her encounters with her interdimensional Spider-nemeses, of course. So what's next for her? Interdimensional Phone Pals.  Gwen Stacy is many things, but open to friendships isn’t really one of them.  Or,  Five rules Gwen makes for herself, and how Peter B. makes her question them. Into the Spiderverse/Murder, She Wrote Spider, She Wrote.  Miles and May visit her old friend Jessica in Cabot Cove. Mulan (1998) the proper order of things. Great outsider perspective. The Mummy After the Mummy.  London was becoming Rick's least favourite place, and not just because of all the rain. Loving Evy was one thing: figuring out whether she loved him back after the Egyptian heat faded away was something else. Where's a good rising of the undead when you need one? Don't worry, Jonathan found one.  Lovely fun adventure. Course Correction.  Jonathan really is serious about staying away from tombs and mummies this time (except trouble always seems to find him). Good thing Ardeth is there to help him stay on-track. Travelers by Night.  Very quickly, Jonathan weighed the odds. On one hand, potential death, whether by armed bandits, a mummy’s curse, or people who looked like bandits and who were very angry about someone unleashing a mummy’s curse. On the other hand, potential riches, home ground, and topics of conversation other than what happened at school fifteen years ago and who got it in the neck where. Murderbot How I Spent My Vacation Between Survey Missions. What happens when ART reunites with Murderbot during another break between research survey missions? Media gets viewed, of course, but there might also be some bad news for more shady corporations. Situation Normal.  Hi, I said, along with amusement sigil 159 = wave. It seemed a little inadequate, but what do you say to the ship that radically altered your appearance, helped you figure out your past, and also threatened you with terrifying weapons? Amusement sigils seemed like my best bet. My Fair Lady Here We Are Together.  Eliza and Freddy are working together. Henry isn't happy, and makes sure everyone knows it. One Day at a Time what they say about the young. Without the kids around, it feels like everything has changed, except for all the other things about Penelope's life that could change, too. a return to normal.  Penelope and Schneider's Friday night plans fall through, so they have a movie night instead.  Very sweet. Persuasion. The Pen in Their Hands. Five letters that were written, but were never sent, aboard H.M.S. Laconia. (And one that was.) Smooth Water. “If I wanted easy comfort, I should not have become a captain’s wife.” Wonderful Austen voice. A Step Not Taken.  What if that day at Lyme had gone just a little differently? Peter Wimsey The Duke's Parlormaid.  A story in correspondence, with detective interruptions.  Really captured the feel of the books and all the character voices. Poirot The Mice Will Play.  When Poirot returns unexpectedly from a case, he finds out something new about Miss Lemon. RED The One Bathtub.  “I did have dinner plans,” Han said, grudgingly, and so Victoria kicked the door in and graciously allowed Han to be the first into the bathroom. She understood the pain of missed reservations. Rivers of London Through All the Years, This Is My Home.  At night, when the rest of the staff and most, if not all, of the masters were asleep, Molly would wander the moonlit halls and remember what fresh air felt like on her skin. Of Molly, of Thomas, and of the years they've spent together - and of the Folly, strong and everlasting.  Lovely Molly perspective. Peelian Principles.  "You're very calm about this," Seawoll said on the fifth day.  Nightingale's perspective on Peter's time as a hostage, and REALLY AWESOME. UXB.  When one the deadliest weapons of the Blitz threatens London once again, Peter finds himself on the front line.  Wonderful casefic, just perfect. Saved! Conversation Starters. Cassandra and Roland have five important conversations. Sense and Sensibility Realization and Renewal.  As Marianne recovers, Elinor and Colonel Brandon find themselves drawn to one another. Sense8 Blue and Gold.  Wolfgang comes home with Kala and Rajan after Paris. Finding a place with them. Star Trek: Rihannsu Day Comes Up New.  "I have done something spectacularly stupid," Arrhae said.  This is a wonderful extension and meditation on what might happen past canon.  Ever since I first read The Romulan Way as a teen, I've wondered what happened to Arrhae in the end, and the subsequent books were great but didn't answer the ultimate question.  This doesn't either, but it suggests something further, which I appreciate. Terminator Movies A Fistful of Sarahs.  The sky cracks open, and Sarah watches herself tumble out of a rift in the space time continuum. She’s older than she is now, and she’s got a lot more scars, and she’s carrying the biggest and weirdest looking gun Sarah’s ever seen. with all the hope in my heart (and doubt in my mind). Sarah Connor has done this before. Dani has not. Post-Terminator: Dark Fate. Fate, the Future, and Other Sons of Bitches.  Sarah and Dani hit the road. Winnie the Pooh In Which Pooh Hunts for the Meaning of Christmas.  Pooh finds a mysterious envelope pinned to the door of his house. In Which Eeyore Loses His Tail Again, Or At Least Plans To.  It's a bright, sunny day, and Eeyore has a plan to make it tolerable. Now if only his friends will cooperate.

#fic rec #fanfiction #fanfic #yuletide

[missweber]

@lardo-week

For Day 6 of Lardo Week - Friends and Lovers

(Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5)

(FYI, I’ll start posting these to AO3 tomorrow after I get the last chapter up tomorrow and give everything a good scrubbing for lurking typos and the like)

the practical thing to do

It wasn't that Lardo wasn't earning money. She had two decent part-time jobs and had even picked up a couple of freelance assignments. 

One of the freelance assignments (painting the risers of a staircase in an old house-turned-bookstore to resemble shelves of children's books) had been fun and had paid fairly well, but it hadn't led to any nibbles from potential patrons.

She had time, she reminded herself. There was nothing wrong with working part-time for a gallery and for a local youth hockey organization. There was nothing wrong with creating some stability for herself.

But something was wrong.

"Can I vent?" She had timed her question for when Ransom and Holster were home and Shitty was at an evening seminar. As for She-Who-Would-Not-Be-Named, Lardo didn't really give a shit if she was home or not.

"Lay it on us, so we may ease your troubled mind," Holster intoned, affecting an air of wisdom and concern. Ransom didn't say anything, but he closed his laptop and put it aside so he could pay full attention.

Wanting to vent didn't mean knowing what to say. Instead, she just plopped herself down on the couch right between them. There wasn't quite enough room, but they made it work.

"I feel like a fucking parasite," she said at last.

The chorus of no no no! and we're fine with how things are divvied up, honest! weren't as comforting as they were meant to be.

"I'm venting, okay? That means you gotta let me vent! Don't..." She took a deep breath. "Don't just tell me not to worry, okay?"

Part of her could hear Shitty explaining how being told not to worry was sometimes the same as 'go away and don't bother me with your pesky emotions,' and that, she found comforting.

"My bad," Holster said. 

Ransom pulled her into a side hug. "Sorry about that, Lards. Go ahead. Why are you comparing yourself to a tapeworm?"

"Gross, dude," she and Holster said in perfect unison, and that led to a giggle fit that totally killed the mood.

"Now I'm not feeling ranty. I'm just going to whine instead."

"Would you like some wine with that wine?" Holster asked in a horrible faux-British accent.

"Oh, hell yes!"

The occasion apparently called for a bottle of good wine that had been 'liberated' from Shitty's grandparents, and the novelty wine glasses. Lardo noted that her glass said 'Wine is cheaper than therapy' and tried not to read too much into it. After all, Ransom's said 'I just can't adult today' and Holster's glass proclaimed that he was 'Sotally Tober.'

"So anyway, I feel like a total mooch. I know you guys say it doesn't bother you that I'm paying a smaller share of rent than you are, but it still bugs me. I feel... I feel kept."

"Does it help if we tell you we don't think of it that way at all?" Ransom asked gently.

She shrugged. "In theory."

Shitty, Ransom, and Holster had each told her over and over and over they didn't mind paying bigger shares of the rent. They all either had or made enough money to cover it, and how the hell was Lardo supposed to do art on the side if she didn't have the time or energy to do art?

"We've got your back, bro," Holster said as if that explained everything.

She knew it should. She wished it did.

"Did anything in particular stir this up?" Ransom asked. His eyes narrowed. "Shitty's dad didn't say anything again, did he? Or Claire?"

Holster shushed him, and cast furtive looks at the hallway. "Don't say her name! She'll know we're talking about her!"

Ransom leaned in close and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I know I always said I was team attic, but if the person who's hiding in the attic is you-know-who? Then fuck it. I'm changing my answer."

"Dude," Holster said solemnly. "What if she's actually a thousand roaches in a trench coat?"

"Huh. That actually makes a lot of sense."

Watching their back and forth helped more than their concern. "No one said anything, guys." Well, George had said something in an email, but not in the way the guys meant it. "Just some job stuff came up today that... well, it stirred some shit up."

The point of having a job was to earn a living. Yes, you should do something you liked to do, but you needed to be practical about it. Lardo's parents had never been poor, but for as long as she could remember, they always had to be mindful. She had never gone hungry, but her mother and her bà ngoại had.

They had always encouraged and celebrated her artwork, but they had also been very clear that she was expected to get a real job.

There had also been sly hints about how finding a husband with a real job was a possible alternative, but she forced the thought from her mind because while a wine hangover was bad, a rage hangover was even worse.

The three of them killed off a bottle and a half of wine. It was weaksauce compared to their kegster days, but while Lardo had gone to several classes hungover and still in her pajamas, she didn't think that would fly at the Newbury Street gallery where she worked.

Where she worked for now, at least.

"I'm done guys," she said with a yawn that was only a little exaggerated. "Thanks for letting me dump on you. And don't say it's no problem or anything stupid like that."

She really hoped Shitty got home soon. Now that she had vented, she actually wanted to talk.

It was good to crawl into bed. It was only half-made, as usual, but Duckie and Mr. Steggy were in their proper places as they should be. She smiled, remembering how Shitty had literally squeed with delight when she first introduced him to her childhood plushie.

She hugged both stuffed animals to her and fell asleep.

She was woken up what felt like just a minute later when a naked Shitty tried to pry Mr. Steggy out of her grasp.

"You're hogging the cuddle-buddies," he whispered.

"You snooze, you lose."

"Excuse you, but I was not the one snoozing, Ms. Duan."

She laughed and let Shitty take the plush stegosaurus. He slid into bed and snuggled close. She leaned in and kissed him deep, curling one hand around the back of his head so she could play with his hair. God, she was so glad he was growing it out again.

He ran his fingers down the curve of her waist and up the rise of her hip, but it was an inquiry rather than a request. She kissed him again, then pulled back. "Just this," she said. "And can I talk to you about something?"

She felt him tense defensively but then relax. The first had been automatic, the second, deliberate. "Okay?"

"First of all, yes, there is some money shit tied up in all of this, so I need to know it's okay to talk about money. Otherwise, this is going to be frustrating as hell."

It said something that all he did was nod in agreement. They had figured out quickly that their difference in background made financial discussions a big-ass mine field. They'd had a rough start, but now they used safe words more when talking about money than they did when having sex. 

Lardo thought more couples should follow their example.

"I got a solid lead on a job today."

His face lit up. "What! That's–"

She covered his mouth with her hand. "Let me finish, okay? And if you lick my hand, I will pluck your mustache out hair by hair. Nod if you understand."

He nodded. She removed her hand.

"Here's the problem. If I take this job, I'll have to quit the gallery job and cut back my time with the Rockets. Maybe even quit."

"Okay," he said. She could tell he had a question, but was holding it. For now.

"Starting out, it would mean less money. Not a lot less, but..." But it had been enough to trigger a crisis that required copious amounts of wine to solve. "And the commute would suck."

"Okay." 

He wanted to say he would fix it, that he would make up the difference. She could see it. But he stayed quiet, and she loved him all the more for it.

"But that would only be at first. Part of what I'd be doing is training to take on someone else's job when he retires next year. And it would be decent money. I...”

She let go.

“I thought that wasn't important to me! I know I'm worth more than the money I make! I know my art is damned good art even if it takes me forever to get to where I can do it full time! So what's wrong with me that I'm ready to throw away an art gallery job—a fucking Newbury Street gallery job!—so I can make more money a whole year from now!"

Shitty actually raised his hand sheepishly, as if he was a student in her class. "Um, so what is this job, anyway?"

That was enough to get her to laugh, and laughing gave her an excuse to wipe away the tears that had started to well. "Details, details... Yeah. George Martin said she's got an opening for an assistant equipment manager-slash-logistics person."

"George Martin? As in Jack's George? Falcs George?" Shitty's eyes were wide. "Holy guacamole doesn't even begin to cover it. So, what are you thinking?"

"In a lot of ways, it makes sense to keep the gallery job. No, it's not my kind of art." Honestly, it was more the sort of thing she imagined hanging in Shitty's grandparent's house. "But it's good experience to see that side of things for when I start selling my own things. And then there's the networking. It would be the practical thing to–"

She stopped, listening to what she was about to say, and hearing the echo of her mother's voice.

"Lards?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you still have time to do your art? If you take this other job?"

She shrugged. "Yeah. I don't see why not."

Shitty reached out and took her hand. He rubbed his thumb up and down her wrist, stroking and soothing. "When you said you would have to quit your gallery job and maybe not work as much with the kiddos on the Rockets, I almost said something."

She nodded. She had caught that.

"What I almost said was that you sounded more upset about cutting back your work with the kids than you did about quitting the gallery completely."

"Holy shit," she whispered. It was as if someone had pulled aside the curtain hiding Oz the Great and Terrible. 

She didn't like the gallery. She liked the idea of the gallery. She liked that even after she had decided that the world wouldn't end if she didn't get a job in the arts right away, this opportunity dropped in her lap. She liked what she had been learning from her boss and the new appreciation she had for mid-century American art.

What she didn't like was dressing up like she worked in a law office. She didn't like the way some buyers treated paintings like investment properties. She didn't like being a salesperson/hostess.

And she really didn't like how many clients reminded her of Shitty's grandparents.

But she loved her hockey kids.

"You're right. But..."

"But?"

She gently plucked Mr. Steggy from Shitty's grasp and set him on the nightstand. Duckie followed a second later, and Lardo wriggled as close to Shitty as she could. "But you've given me a lot to think about." She tilted her head so she could kiss his chin. "G'night." 

There was no need to make a decision just then, even though she was pretty sure what it would be. There were just a few things she had to think through, first. 

She felt like something big had shifted, or was about to shift, and that the future was going to be something she had never imagined. But that was okay.

She had Shitty. And in a different way, she had Ransom and Holster, and Jack and Bitty. 

And, as Holster had said, they had her back.

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #lardo duan #my fic

[wildmagicplant]

Oct. 13 (prompt from Oct. 11) - snow

took a few days off, but i’m back to my “inktober” writing! today is a jason-and-bruce-centric hockey au with exactly no hockey whatsoever. i was TRYING not to just write about jason all month so we’ll see if i fix this for the rest of the month lol

After the accident, it was years before Jason could look Bruce in the face without wanting to punch him. Jason knew how many concussions Bruce had had, so it wasn’t the idle threat it might have been from someone else. He knew exactly how much he could potentially ruin Bruce’s life with one hard hit, which was precisely what made it appealing.

Now, they had reached something of a truce. Now Jason only had the urge to punch Bruce in the stomach. Painful, but he would recover. Being on good terms with Bruce gave him access to all kinds of things Jason couldn’t get anywhere else, like near-unlimited access to a private rink where he didn’t have to worry about anyone recognizing him or gawking as he fell, so overall it was worth it.

Jason felt his shoulders relax as he settled into his stride, gliding around the rink. When he’d been a kid, he had never gone ice skating himself, but he’d spent hours hanging around the outdoor rink that popped up in Gotham’s downtown in the winter, just watching people skate around confidently. It had seemed so easy. When Bruce had taken him in, it had been a while before Jason was confident enough to ask for anything for himself, but skating lessons had been the first big thing. He’d never thought of trying to follow Bruce’s path into hockey. Jason had just wanted that feeling of weightless freedom he saw.

It had been everything he wanted and more.

“Can I join you?” Bruce had a way of speaking quietly but making his voice inescapable anyway. Jason was pleased that he didn’t even stutter in his strides.

“It’s your ice. I can’t stop you.” Jason called.

Bruce didn’t move. “Jason, this is your time. I won’t intrude if you don’t want me to.”

God. Why did he have to be so fucking considerate?

“Sure,” Jason said. It took a minute for Bruce to step out onto the ice, which Jason took to mean that Bruce hadn’t even put on his skates before asking.

It was quiet for a long time, the only sound the noise of their blades against the ice. Jason kept on skating in circles, widening and tightening, twisting back on his trail, trying to ignore the dark figure that was Bruce calmly and slowly skating wide laps around the outside of the rink. Finally, he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Jason skated over to Bruce and stopped up, spraying up snow onto Bruce’s legs. “What do you want?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, which would have been more effective had Jason not known it was copied from Alfred. Bruce didn’t compare. “To skate.”

Snorting, Jason said, “Oh sure, you just happened to have the urge to skate while I was here, as if you don't have every other goddamn minute of the week free to skate if you want.”

“Sometimes Damian practices here,” Bruce said matter-of-factly.

“Fine, fuck it, I give up,” Jason snapped, starting to speed up. Bruce matched him.

“Jason, you haven’t exactly responded well when I’ve said I just wanted to spend time with my son, but that’s all it is. I know you don’t want to talk to me, so I’ll take what I can get.”

Jason laughed because he didn’t know what else to do. Yell? Cry? “So you were just going to lurk around for as long as I was here and not say anything?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone ever told you you’re creepy?”

Bruce just shrugged, not contesting the point.

What was he supposed to do with this? Jason thought, despairing.

“Do you remember when you first came here? I thought you would never settle in. Ask Alfred. I think I was so relieved when you asked for skating lessons that I didn’t think about where it could lead.” Jason wasn’t sure where Bruce was going with this. “I never thought you would want to play hockey, or I would have tried to talk you out of it. I know exactly how dangerous it can be, and after what happened to you… I was too distracted by how happy you were to think about it at the time, though.”

“I loved hockey,” Jason said quietly.

“And now?” Bruce asked. His face was dark, brow furrowed, clearly already expecting a negative.”

Jason shrugged. “I still love it. I’m not you, Bruce. I knew it was dangerous when I started, and I wanted to take that risk.”

Bruce had stopped and he was staring at Jason. “Then why did you leave?”

He had never understood. “Hockey was the thing that connected us. I didn’t have your childhood trauma or whatever that made you see yourself in Dick. It felt like—like if I lost hockey, I would lose you too, and I know you said it wasn’t like that, but I was sixteen and it felt like the end of my world.”

“Jason,” Bruce said. His voice was ragged like Jason had almost never heard it before. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then he laughed. It sounded painful. “It took me years to realize that. Of course you figured it out right away. Jason, you know I didn’t see it that way, don’t you? Whether you ever believed it or not, you’re my son and I would still care about you, no matter what happened.”

Jason didn’t want to look at him. He didn’t know what to do with any of this. “I—“ he started, and then the words dried up. Jason cleared his throat. “It would have helped to hear that. I believe you, but I didn’t then.”

Bruce laughed again, that same ragged sound. “Yes, I learned a lot from fucking up so completely with you. Also from everything that’s happened since then.”

“I— B, you know— I didn’t leave because of you,” Jason forced out.

“Didn’t you?” Bruce said. Jason could hear the bitterness in it, and it made him angry again.

“No, I fuckin’ didn’t. Part of it was you, but mostly I felt like my whole life was changed and it was hard to stay in the same place and feel so different. And maybe you should try listening to what I’m saying, since that has always been my issue with you, B. You love me, but you acted like that meant you got to make all my decisions for me, and it didn’t, even when I was a kid. If you’d told me why you didn’t want me to play, I would have argued but I would have listened. Instead, you just—“ Jason stopped again. He had gone over this a thousand times in his head while rehabbing his leg, while living an ocean away, during angry sleepless nights and quiet lonely mornings. It had all fled his head as soon as Bruce had said anything. “Do you know how expensive hockey equipment is? I never even dreamed about playing hockey before I met you, because it was so far away from anything I could do. You gave that to me, and then you took it away. Of course I didn't want to accept that. You wouldn’t have either.”

“I would never say I make a good role model,” Bruce murmured.

“Doesn’t mean you weren’t one anyway,” Jason shot back. “You get that, right? I felt like I had to do something with myself to make it worth you spending all that time and money and effort on me. I couldn’t just stop, and besides, I didn’t want to.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said. If anyone had told Jason that Bruce would apologize to him today, he would have laughed in their face. Instead, he was realizing that maybe everyone else had been right, and Bruce really had changed. He’d thought that was Dick’s shitty lie to reunite them, but maybe… Jason looked at Bruce and saw his grey hairs, the wrinkles around his eyes, and thought about how long it had been, how much he himself had changed in that time.

Jason sighed. “Thanks, Bruce.”

They started skating again, and the sound of their skates filled the space. The quiet went on, and on, and Jason felt like he should break it but he didn’t know how. Finally, Bruce spoke.

“I’ve been thinking about funding an inner-city youth hockey team. Would you be willing to help?”

Jason looked at him sidelong. “Just equipment?”

Bruce shook his head. “Equipment, ice time, coaches, travel if they wanted it and we could find other teams for them to compete against.”

“That…” Jason took a deep breath. “I thought you didn’t want kids playing hockey anymore.”

Snorting, Bruce said, “I’ve been emphatically reminded that it doesn’t stop anyone, and that only letting rich kids play doesn’t make it a better environment. Besides, I’ve already let Damian start. I’m not going to be a hypocrite about it.”

“You need to make sure kids can get to practice if their parents are working,” Jason said. 

For the first time that Jason had seen in person in five years, Bruce smiled.

#jason todd #bruce wayne #dcu #au #not inktober #my stuff #i have... a whole lot of other thoughts about this au to no one's surprise #shrug emoji

[champofpallet]

There were some rumors around Alola as Red was getting some decorations put up around his work area at the Battle Tree. The same sorts of rumors you would hear at a shopping mall when a bunch of teenagers start gossiping, or when you read some urban legends on the internet. The talk of the Battle Tree today was about this mansion that had just set up around the abandoned shopping mart. Now mansions don’t just fall from the sky, of course they couldn’t that’s impossible, but from the way they were talking it seemed more and more like that was the case. 

Red’s body shivered and shook though it was hard to tell if it was from excitement or pure terror. Probably both knowing how terrified of ghosts and how naturally curious he is. Almost causing a scene by nearly falling off the ladder he was perched on, he successfully added the orange and black pumpkin lights to the tree’s branches and hopped off with a grin. What on earth was he planning? Surely he wasn’t going to check this place out by himself, right? No you were never by yourself as long as you had Pokemon.

Today wasn’t a busy day at work anyway, and Blue wouldn’t mind filling in for him one more time right? Actually he should make it up to him for all this time he’s saved his butt. Perhaps he’ll catch a really cool Pokemon and give it to him. Yeah! That ought to be worth being forgiven.

He passed the abandoned Mega Mart and makes a sharp turn forwards towards the back of it. For some reason the place got all cloudy and hard to breathe. Red coughs as he made his way forwards, placing a hand over his mouth to block the thick fog. Scary houses and fog went together like peanut butter and jelly, the perfect combination. Red hated that. That just confirmed that he was right about the house being haunted. He could practically feel the anxiety rise in the pit of his stomach as he made way for the door. What if it turns out like what happened with his cousin where he was turned into a ghost by a prank of some Gengar and Haunter. Oh jeez there went the anxiety again. Why Arceus was he born with such a curious mind? He silently reaches for the door. Locked. Won’t even budge. Well he did all he could do, and he could have sworn he saw a person in a hockey mask and a chainsaw in their hands so he was going to hightail it out of there.

Skreeeech!

Oh good! Out of nowhere the door opened letting him in! How...wonderful. Well there was no stalling now. Red had to make sure everything in there was safe, not just for the humans that might want to visit, but for the Pokemon that might wonder into it. If that abandoned mansion in Cinnabar could have Pokemon wandering in there even when the door was locked, whos to say they won’t wonder in there somehow? With a pitiful sigh, Red continued on his venture through the house.

The scent of rotting mildew hit his nose making him want to gag. Didn’t anyone open a window? The walls were rotting and falling through, but once in it’s youth it must have been really extravagant. A red velvet looking carpet covered the wooden floor. There were some dents through the rug as if to hide a trapdoor. After dealing with Team Rocket so long you learn how to spot traps from a mile away. The walls had pictures of strange men whose eyes followed Red as he went across the floor. Oh Arceus why did he decide to do this? He was distracted by the odd decor when his foot slipped and he fell onto the floor. As his body hit the floor some odd smoke rose up making him go to fight or flight mode. Since there was nothing but odd smoke to fight, Red went with the second best option and hurried up the rickety stairs into the second story. There was also some odd howls coming from this floor so maybe he should get out of here.

“Arceus don’t tell me, I’m about to be spirited away like in those ol’ stories…” Red said silently to himself. Just hearing his own voice comforted him even if it was only a little. And besides, he just has to remember what he told himself before: you’re never alone with Pokemon at your side! His Pokeballs were still in place telling him that they were with him. So he just had to find a way out of here so he can leave and never come here again! But wait! That person who was in the window before looked rather small. Could that have been a child? There went his inner hero instincts again and he reluctantly ran up the stairs trying to get to the last floor. Some things popped out at him, and from what Red could tell they didn’t look like Pokemon, but he had to continue on! Walking up higher and higher until he had reached the top floor. 

“....I can’t believe I’m doing this...but I gotta save that kid!”

Like an episode of a cartoon Red ran through the rooms looking for the child but only to come out with those things popping out at him like one of those story books with the pop-up pictures. He had looked everywhere in the house and now he was starting to feel weakened. Oh Arceus he was going to die here. He was going to die and the ghosts will pick his bones clean. Do ghosts even eat? Wouldn’t it just fall through? Red’s mind wandered off to other things. At least his Pokemon are safe in their Pokeballs with everything they needed to survive. He didn’t want them to suffer like he was right then. Red collapsed to the ground with his eyes closed. There was no way he would be able to save the kid now. There probably wasn’t even a kid there in the first place. Just a trick to get him inside most likely. Ghosts are clever beings. Smoke began to rise again, Red watches uninterested. Huh...even the ceiling was fancy. Full of cobwebs and cracks, but fancy. Even the square door that led up to who knows what was decorated. Wait...the window he saw the child out of was one that was a lot bigger and longer that the normal sized room kinds he saw in the other rooms. Could this be a way out or another trap? Only one way to find out!

Feeling a wave of energy rush into him suddenly, Red bolted himself up and pulled down the secret door letting what looked like a rope ladder fall. He swiftly climbed up the ladder and looked around.

“Kid? You here? Hello?” Red heard a soft step behind him. He turns his head to greet the child only to be met with the loud sound of a chainsaw and someone in a hockey mask staring down at him! Out of shock Red let go of the ladder and screamed as he descended downwards. The ground was so old it just had Red fall right through it all the way to the basement! His body shaking like a leaf and hiding his face, Red tried to apologize and beg the crazy kid to spare his life. “PL-PLEASE SPARE ME! I WAS JUST ABOUT TO LEAVE! C-C’MON!” His words were half yelling and half sobs, he did not want to die here. The kid jumped down the hole that Red made from his fall, their chainsaw still revving up. Each time Red got more and more close to fainting, but because he thought he had a way out, his body forced himself to stay awake. Darn that inner hero instincts again. The child went closer to Red before pulling off their mask.

“Spare you? Hehehe what did you think I was going to do? Kill you? Don’t be silly!” A girl with purple hair had said as she places the chainsaw down. Red couldn’t believe his eyes. “Acerola!? What are you doing in this place? Didn’t you see the odd smoke? Or the howls? Or anything I just went through!?” Red’s voice was half relieved and half enraged at how nonchalant she was being about this. Red felt like he almost died a few times and he was doing it all to save her! Or...well a kid he thought wandered into the mansion but STILL! “Do you like them?” Acerola asked with a cat-like smile. “I made them myself! Well with cutting them out. Mimikyu did the drawing, she’s good at that.” A shiny Mimikyu with a crayon in her claw waved at them from upon her trainer’s shoulder. “But I think the smoke machine is busted. Your big butt landed on the thing as you fell and it went kablooey! Though maybe you fixed it? It was releasing too much smoke. Maybe the smoke overdid it, but there was too much of the stuff so I put on the first mask I could find. Tried to open the basement door but it was stuck so I had to look in the attic to find the chainsaw. Had no idea why the attic door was closed...must’ve been some pranks from the ghosts.”

Red still looks peeved by the whole situation, his heart still pounding in his chest as his face pouts. “First of all, where did this house come from and why would you use a chainsaw on a door? Is this place even yours? And second of all...what is all this stuff for?”

Acerola grins again and places her hands on her hips. “I wanted to make my own gym! I know that guy with the whole karate suit is the only gym in Alola, but that’s the only one we have! You need eight gyms right? So I’m gonna be Acerola the ghost type gym leader~!” She spins around and does a little pose. Red just stares angrily at her. “Okay fine, I’m sorry you had to go through all that. This house used to be mine before me and my parents moved out. It was getting old and broken down, so instead of destroying it, I tried to turn it into a gym. See? And because of the hole your big butt made, I have a place to install the portals! So I ought to thank you somehow.”

“Did you just call my butt big? Twice?” Red seems to only be paying attention to some things as his mind was still on the whole haunted house situation. Acerola pondered for a second then took out a Z-Crystal. It was as white and smokey as the fog that was everywhere before. She hands it to Red smiling as sweetly as she could. “Here you go! I think you’ve earned your first Alolan gym badge,Trainer!” Well even if he ended up being chased by decorations, running from odd smoke, and falling through the floor five times in one fall, at least he got a Z-Crystal out of it.

#writober2k19entry #writober2k19 #haunted house #looong post #but I had fun writing it

[justlookfrightened]

Coach Bitty

This is in response to an anonymous ask for Bitty as something other than a baker or hockey player. I don’t know if figure skating coach is too close for the anon, but I can totally see him going back to the sport he grew up with! Anyway, I’ll continue this probably next week.

** Edited to fix minor inconsistencies and to make it clear that Bitty’s students have parents/caregivers with them, because it would be very irresponsible of Bitty to be alone in the rink with children. Not that Bitty would ever take advantage of anyone, but he wouldn’t want to put them in questionable circumstances -- and he’d encourage their parents to look out for them too.

Part 1

No. Jack had booked time at this rink specifically so he could be on the ice alone. Here it was, 10 minutes before his time was due to start, and there was pop music playing and no sign of the Zamboni.

Not that he needed a perfectly clean sheet of ice for what he planned to do today -- essentially, an hour of laps, to keep up his endurance over the summer -- but still. He had booked the ice and trucked himself all the way out to this godforsaken industrial park in East Providence, and he wanted to be alone. And he’d like a clean sheet of ice to start, if only to clear his mind.

The woman looking at her phone in the lobby didn’t even look up as he stalked past her.

There was only one skater, it looked like. That was something. It was a -- boy or girl? He couldn’t really tell -- in dark leggings and a green sweater. There was a man standing near the boards talking while the kid picked up speed going backwards, sprang into the air, twisted around until they were spinning like an airborne top, and came down again, one leg sweeping around in a wide circle.

The man -- not much bigger than the kid, really, but clearly an adult -- was all but jumping up and down on his skates and clapping.

Maybe they were done.

Jack pushed open the door between the lobby and the rink itself and said, “Excuse me!”

The man turned with a little jump, waved at Jack and looked back at the kid.

“Look, Mason, you have an audience for your first triple salchow!”

He turned back to Jack with a big smile. “Wasn’t it marvelous?”

The guy obviously wasn’t from Rhode Island, or anywhere in the Northeast.

“Uh, I guess?” Jack said. “But I booked the ice for four o’clock. I don’t blame you for staying until the Zamboni guy kicks you off, but I don’t see any sign of him.”

“Are you going to skate like that?” the man asked him, eyeing his basketball shorts and slides.

“I’ll be changed in a minute,” Jack said.

“Why don’t you just do that, hon?” the man said, his voice dripping with syrup. “I’m sure he won’t keep you waiting. Locker rooms are around there.”

Then he called to the kid, “Great job today, Mason! Grab your stuff and meet your mom in the lobby, all right?”

Jack followed the curve of the boards to a corridor in the back and found an open room. He could hear the Zamboni take the ice before he closed the door.

**********************************

This time, Bitty had half an ear cocked for the outside door.

Sure enough, at five minutes of four, it creaked open, and the same man came in.

Sigh. It looked like he and Mel would have to call it day, and just when she was starting to get it, too.

“Coach Bitty!” Mel was saying. “Were you watching? I think I finally got that tricky bit right.”

“What, hon?” Bitty said. “Sorry -- I was distracted. I think our time’s about up. How about you do the step sequence one more time before we pack up?”

“Sure thing, Coach!”

Mel was always a ball of sunshine, made of enough energy to power the whole neighborhood. Not the most talented of Bitty’s handful of students, but Lord, did she try. And she had personality to spare. That would probably be enough for a respectable showing in juniors -- in regional competitions anyway -- but she likely wouldn’t go much further.

That was fine, though. Bitty hadn’t gone any further that that, and things had turned out fine for him, right? Completely, perfectly fine. Sure, maybe he could have made it into seniors. Maybe. If he didn’t live in Madison, Georgia. If someone had encouraged him to take the leap and go train with an elite coach. If he’d had the courage to ask his parents for that.

He kept his promise and didn’t turn away from Mel as she made her way across the ice, somehow smiling and concentrating at the same time. He heard -- and felt -- the same man come up beside him.

“I have the ice --”

“Yes, I know, you have the ice at four o’clock,” Bitty said, eyes still on Mel. “We’re almost out of your way, and I know no one has it after you, so if you don’t get your full hour, I’m sure the owner won’t mind if you stay a little longer.”

Then, louder, he said, “That was perfect, sweetheart!”

Mel was sliding over to the door, beaming.

Bitty handed over her skate guards and said, “Remember your off-ice practice and your conditioning program, right? Great practice, Mel. See you Thursday. Your brother should be in the lobby, I think.”

Finally, he turned to the man, who was … not fuming, really. Just grumpy.

“Happy now?” he said. “Sometimes it doesn’t hurt to give people a minute.”

“Fine,” the man said. “I’m going to change. Can you get the Zamboni guy to cut the ice?”

“Uh, sure,” Bitty said.

“Thanks,” the man said, and headed toward the same locker room he’d used the day before.

Bitty shook his head and went to get the Zamboni out. Had the skater not realized that Bitty cut the ice? It was part of his deal with the rink’s owner.

He wasn’t sure why Johnson bought the rink at all. He’d had a windfall -- inheritance? lottery? who knew? -- and spent it on a private ice rink tucked down a side street in an industrial park. It had rental skates, but no regularly scheduled public skating sessions; a lack of audience seating that made it unattractive for hockey games; and a concession stand that consisted of two vending machines, one stocked with Gatorade and one stocked with protein bars.

But it was perfect for Bitty, who was trying to make a go of it as a figure skating coach, more than a decade after he had originally left the sport. Johnson let him use the ice for next to nothing, as long as he ran the Zamboni around before and after his sessions, and he was welcome to any time not already booked. In the summer, with youth hockey taking a break and no overflow practices at the rink, it was almost always free. Until this week. Johnson had texted him to let him know.

Jack needs the ice 4-5 pm. TIA for accommodating him

So the man was Jack, Bitty figured, but he didn’t know why he wanted to skate alone, in hockey skates no less, for an hour every afternoon.

Or why he couldn’t seem to offer a smile to save his life. Bitty had certainly noticed that cheekbones, the jawline, the clear blue eyes. Not to mention the body to die for. But the permanent scowl? That was enough to warn Bitty off.

Bitty wasn’t the naive child he once had been; this Jack was almost certainly straight. Even if he wasn’t, he didn’t seem to want to make friends -- not even friendly acquaintances -- let alone anything more.

Bitty was just putting the Zamboni away when he heard skates cutting through the ice. He turned to look and caught a surprised expression on Jack’s face when he realized Bitty had been driving the machine.

Read Part 2

#prompt fill #zimbits #omg check please #omgcheckplease #my fic

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

the ultimate citation list for Schneider of ODAAT, volume 1

A reference collection of quotes and details, organized chronologically, for the first 26 episodes of One Day At A Time. Used to create this character guide.

“Can you believe it's only been 10 months since you moved in? I remember 'cause I got my five year sober chip and your mom baked me that cake. I enjoyed watching you guys eat it." 1x01

"You're 40 and you look stupid." “I'll have you know, I was invited to several Pride parades." 1x01

Uses a “very expensive” Damascus steel hammer. 1x01

"I've been doing some outreach down at the rec center, talking to at-risk youth. You guys wanna start takin' bets? Actually, scratch that. I'm addicted to gambling.” 1x01

"Love isn't even real. It's just something your nanny says sometimes to your dad." 1x02

"Hey, I may have money in the bank and two living parents, and four living stepmothers but there is a hole in here. We never had family meals. I ate alone in front of the TV. Oh, don't get me wrong. It was a massive TV. Sometimes my nanny would join me, but only if I agreed to watch telenovelas. This one time, Rosa got jealous of the housekeeper 'cause she was makin' a move on her man, so she threatened to throw live scorpions on her while she slept. Rosa was my nanny. Ex-nanny. Now, stepmother." 1x03

[Lydia and Pen fighting] “It's startin' to feel kinda like home in here.” 1x03

Schneider cooks fancy hipster food. "Nutted quinoa, wilted broccolini with radish micro-greens, and venison carpaccio on a bed of nettles. Grab a cedar plank and dig in." 1x04

"Always interesting to be the sober one at a dinner party." 1x05

"I immigrated here illegally. I'm a Canadian. But yeah, born in the 'Couve, overstayed my student visa, forced to live in the shadows of Pepperdine University. Anyway, it's fine now. My lawyers made it all okay." 1x05

Uses sheet masks, knows about chauffeurs, butlers, estates. 1x06

“The kids barely touched my black olive tapenade.” “Thanks for helping out, but maybe next time pick a food a kid would wanna eat or has heard of.” “Yeah, and maybe next time, don't hand out masks with my face on them.” 1x07  

"The members of my college band have finally put aside our differences and we're reuniting to play at the fair this afternoon. My band, Full Sail, plays yacht rock. These guys were like family. I used to show up at their dorm rooms unannounced and just hang out for hours and hours and hours." 1x07

"We were setting up for the show and our keytarist threw a decorative anchor at me. This is why Full Sail broke up in the first place. Too many passionate personalities." 1x07

Has a magnifying glass in his costume trunk. 1x07

"I know nothing about my grandparents and I never will. And they live in Pasadena!" (but he goes to 'the depot' in Pasadena) 1x09

"I have never seen such un-professionalism. This is why I don't work!" 1x09

"I need to find a new place to get my eyebrows threaded." 1x10

Has a safe. 1x10

"Well, Father believed it's best to have this kinda discussion in a car because you don't have to make eye contact. Plus, you're traveling in the same direction, which fosters intimacy. So we're in the Bentley with our chauffeur, Paco. Father said it's time to have the talk. We came to the next stoplight. He hopped out, Paco told me everything." 1x10

"I didn't get the period talk till I was 12. Paco just called it 'Shark Week.'" 1x10

"When I was a kid, there was an adult section in the back of the video store. Behind the beads. I'd always chicken out and just rent a Jane Fonda workout tape. Still worked. Still works." 1x10

"You'd be surprised how many of my hookups started with 'Ugh!' ...When I was 15, I told Father I wanted to be a professional tap dancer. He laughed. It was that lack of support that contributed to my drinking and drug problem. Oh, do you find that amusing? Because 15-year-old Schneider's drinking peach schnapps out of an unused tap shoe right now." 1x11

"You have a girl over here and you were offering to have sex with me?" - "Yes, Penelope. That's the kind of friend I am." 1x11

"My dad never came to my games. All he ever did was put me through rehab six times and buy me this building." 2x01

"Maroon 5 is the best." 2x01

"Okay, I decided to take a break from dating. See, I realized that women were just another one of my addictions, like alcohol, drugs, gambling, cigarettes, snow globes. The point is, I've broken the cycle of addiction with spinning. Five hours a day, every single day. I have to do it! Plus, it's the perfect substitute for dating, 'cause it burns a lot of energy and also numbs my junk!" 2x02

“Snow globes? Is this one of our family?” 2x02

"I come over, tell him to do stuff to me, he does it, I go home. You should get one." "I think what Nikki was kinda dancing around is that you don't always have to have a relationship with a capital "R." Sometimes all you need is what the great poets of the Renaissance called a junk buddy." "Exactly. You don't even have to like them." 2x03

"See, the great thing about having a green card is you get to live here without having to do all the stuff Americans have to, like vote or serve jury duty or become obese."

"Okay, but at least you vote in Canadian elections." "Mmm. No. Even in Canada, nothing ever changes. Clean air, sensible gun control, free health care. The system's rigged." 2x04

Can picture himself “doing it” with Elizabeth Warren, was Stephen Hawking for Halloween. 2x04

"You have to pay taxes with a green card? I just texted my accountant, and he said 'cause I'm in the highest income bracket, I don't have to pay taxes." 2x04

Keeps on hand: panic room, gas mask, water purification pills, MREs, enough cash to get to Cape Verde by boat. Followed Max on Instagram. Would be honored to be Penelope's maid of honor. 2x05

"I'm very patriotic. Look in that basket. There's a bald eagle thong." 2x06

All Elena's video game equipment belongs to him. 2x06

"Penelope, tell my third stepmother I loved her! Not the second one, though. She was kind of a jerk." 2x06

"Hummer limo's downstairs. My third stepmother used to take me to the racetrack to spy on Father. For the longest time, I thought she was saying, 'Your father is with Rebecca, that horse!' It's like I'm back at the racetrack with my stepmom. What's next? Throw a mint julep in his face?” 2x07

"I love Cuba! I've been there four times. Property manager, job's just temporary. My father owns the building. I'm really a musician. Play a lot of rap-rock-ska. I'm like a male Gwen Stefani. When you're hiring a nanny, make sure she's not too hot. That's how I met my fifth mom. I had four nannies and look at the results." 2x08

Did not speak a word of Spanish when he first met them, is interested in single moms. 2x08

"If you joined an adult kickball team after saying you were too busy to join mine, you are on a long road to forgiveness." 2x09

"Your idea of stress is when your chest-waxer goes out of town." "Roberto is the only one who doesn't make it sting!" 2x09

"I shouldn't have to need these either, but I do. To see. So it's Fourth of July, 2011. I'd been sober for a while, so I thought I'd celebrate with a beer. Woke up three days later in an alley. Then the bowling ball hit me. I was in the gutter for a long time. It's really slippery without the shoes. That was the day I truly accepted that I can't have alcohol or drugs, ever. Not a beer, not a glass of wine, not even six hits of acid at a Grateful Dead show, no matter how well it makes me dance. I kinda get where you're coming from. There's something I want that I can't have for the rest of my life." 2x09

He and Pen are best friends. Also considers Max his bestie. Wants to Netflix and chill with them both, together. 2x09

"My abuelita used to put Vicodin in her coffee. And her lemonade and her sandwiches. Maybe she had a problem. As my father said to me on my ninth birthday, 'You don't need me anymore.' I use my garage for pickling and sea horse breeding." 2x10

Loves puns. "This is Elena Alvarez, my handyman mentee. Or handy-manatee." "The toilet is a cruel mistress. She is flush with complications." 2x10

"Herb and Sherb McGurb. Her real name is Sheryl, but she gets a kick out of Sherb." 2x10

"Bonsai's for dorks. This is penjing. The gentle Chinese art of tray scenery. Now that you're working for me, I finally have some leisure time." "Oh, look, there's little people. Wait, is that my family?" "Could be any Cuban family." 2x10

"I may only look two or three years older than you, but I have the wisdom of that ancient bonsai!" 2x10

"Always take the lemonade. That's Handyman 101! So you watched Jeopardy with them and then what? Well, now we know what your problem is! You fixed their toilet, but you didn't fix their souls. Elena, growing up, I had everything. But I was always alone. I don't want my tenants to feel that way, so I do more than just fix stuff. Apartment 306, macrame with Mrs. Watson. 201, lose at chess to Mr. Roth. 402, listen to all their Cuban nonsense. That's the job. That's what takes four hours. That's the difference between being a handyman and a super." 2x10

Has heard 'you're fired' a lot. 2x10

"After a grueling 30 minutes of thought, Nikki, will you be my starter wife? You're on the rebound. That's the best time to get married. You don't have time to think. So you were never thinking about me? My emotions? My feelings? You used me, Nikki, Finn's mom! And not in the way I like! And that's not all, Sister Barbara. We knew each other. Biblically. And while we were doing it, she took the Lord's name in vain. A lot!" 2x11

"Last night, I was testing the pH of the water in my seahorse ranch and, as I looked at those vomiting little guys, I realized I suck at tests. All tests. Drug, sobriety, vision, IQ, smog. You name it, I fail it!" 2x12

"Have you ever been arrested?” “Does public nudity at a hockey game count?” “There is, uh, no mention of a public nudity charge in your file.” “Oh, you just go to YouTube and type in 'Zam-boner.'" 2x12

"Yeah, they didn't specifically ask if I got drunk and tried to ride a moose, so after that I was golden." 2x12

"How important is having kids to you?" "Never really thought about it." 2x12

"I'll have you know I babysat my babysitter's kids while she was babysitting my dad, so, yeah, I got a little experience under my belt. Oh, it's my cousin Gordy. He still thinks I'm full-on Canadian. All right, good news is Gordo bought it. Bad news is I'm judging a poutine festival in Saskatoon next week." 2x12

"You're the single greatest mother I know." "Thank you. That means a lot coming from a guy with five moms." 2x12

"Fuzzy Afghan she likes, picture of the Pope, picture of a different Pope, picture of your dad, picture of the family, picture of me with the family, picture of me by a waterfall. I'm just gonna keep talking 'cause I'm not good in crisis situations." 2x13

"It's so crazy how we're both immigrants. I mean, I would never compare my story to yours, but the parallels are spooky. You were 18, I was 18. You left your family behind. I left four step-families, a maid, a butler, a chauffeur, and a horse groomer who really got me. But Father was expanding his business to the US and so I had to go. I remember, at the airport, I was crying. But Father put his arm around me and he said, 'Son, only losers cry.' So that was a long flight. You don't know how dirty a dirty look can get until you're crying for a whole plane ride and you're not a baby. I really didn't wanna be in America. So I drank. And I recreated the snowy plains of Canada with cocaine. I'm told I attended classes at Pepperdine University, but I will have to take that on faith. So, I'm in a detox center in El Segundo. This was my fourth rehab. My re-re-re-rehab. I thought I'd been doing a kickass job keeping my drug stuff a secret from all the tenants and then you showed up in my room at that clinic. You brought me sopa de pollo and said it's Cuban penicillin. You told me, 'You eat this, you get some sleep, and tomorrow, you try again.' And then you tucked me in and kissed me good night on my forehead. Forehead kisses are wildly underrated. Just something really comforting about 'em. Then again, it might just be you. Dad never did that. Or my horse groomer. After I got out of rehab, I started hanging around your apartment a lot more, 'cause it helped. Back then, it must have felt like you had this annoying, intrusive guy over. Not like now. 'Cause now you're my family. Don't worry. I haven't legally changed my last name to Alvarez. My lawyer said it was a whole thing, so... Anyway, Pen said no crying, so I'm not gonna. Actually, for once, I agree with Father. Only losers cry. And we're not losing anybody today. Let's hit that oath ceremony soon, okay?" 2x13

#schneider #reference #odaat #one day at a time

[junker-town]

Nickelodeon broadcasts would improve every major sport

Photo by Chris Graythen/Getty Images

We need this in our lives.

The first NFL game broadcast on Nickelodeon was a resounding success. It was the perfect youth-focused presentation to get kids interested in the sport, while filling it with the nostalgic elements adults crave, like slime cannons and references to legendary Nick shows. The only bad thing about the experiment was having Young Sheldon explain penalties, because nobody needs Young Sheldon in their life — but you can’t win them all.

In the wake of Nickelodeon’s success it’s clear we need more of this. Not just from the NFL, but from every major sport. Kids can become more interested in professional sports with programming catered to them, we get to take a break from boring old presentations of games — it’s a win-win.

The NBA

This is the obvious one, right? Kids have a natural proclivity to lean towards basketball because of the constant movement, tricks, and big personality the game brings — so we can lean into that.

Brook and Robin Lopez are the perfect announce team to be paired with some random Nick stars. I know they’re current players, but I don’t care. It makes too much sense. They know and love cartoons, they can absolutely relate to kids, and I’d be hyped for some brotherly banter in the booth.

A Nick presentation would allow for basketball to basically be transformed into NBA Jam. Replays of dunks with slime exploding out of the basket, fire trails on player’s feet, ect. We can have the stands populated with Nick toon stars you’d see all game long and it would be perfect.

I don’t know how well slime cleans off a basketball court, but it’s not really my concern. I need to see James Harden get slimed and learn about the subsequent beard slime removal it necessitates.

The NHL

It’s been said numerous times that hockey has a youth viewership problem. The average age of people who watch the NHL has been steadily climbing, and it desperately needs an injection of youth.

There is literally no reason hockey shouldn’t resonate with kids. It’s fast, it’s exciting, there’s protected violence and ice skating. It’s basically the most Guts-like professional sport already, so why not lean into that?

Bring back the old puck trail we used to see on TV and make it a slime trail. It’ll help people follow the puck, and make the game fun. Have an audio person ready when a fight inevitably happens, and add incredible cartoon sound effects. It’ll lessen the violence, and give us something far more entertaining that watching two grown men circle each other like drunks at a bar looking to pick a fight.

MLB

This is what baseball needs. No sport is bleeding more young viewers than America’s Pastime, and people have been looking for ways to fix it for years. Shorter games seems like a place to start, but purists are concerned it will ruin the sanctity of the sport. I’m not going to wade into who’s right and who’s wrong, but a Nickelodeon broadcast can keep everyone happy.

Let traditional baseball viewers watch in the way that makes them happy, and open up the sport on Nickelodeon. Yes, we’re going to have slime erupt on home runs, that’s a given — but there’s so much room for booth banter that Nick could basically run a show inside a show.

There could be an entire episode of Figure It Out built into the broadcast for down time. Between pitches and innings the booth could hand off to a Nickelodeon panel for sports miscellany and trivia. It opens things up, and would be perfect.

Also, Nick would celebrate bat flips. There would be an award at the end of the game for best bat flip, because bat flips are good.

MMA

Okay, this might not be the best idea because the sport is too violent. I just want blood to be color corrected so peoples’ faces erupt in a plume of slime when they get punched in the face. Is that too much to ask?

Gymnastics

Okay, imagine this: Every floor routine is already set to music. The songs are set ahead of time. What if we had regular floor routines, but musical experts learn how to match traditional songs, and replace them with those from Nick toons?

All I need in my life is Simone Biles doing 150 flips to the tune of the Rocko’s Modern Life theme song.

Soccer

I don’t have any specific sports enhancements. Soccer already rules and kids love it, but I do know that it should be pretty easy to swap the entire pitch so it looks like everyone is playing on slime.

Slime soccer would rule.

[hurricanehonz]

My Life: A timeline

2012-have a chance run-in with the Owner/CEO of a local company after he overheard a conversation I was having in Starbucks... he asks if I’d ever consider helping his company start a Wellness initiative. I would... Find out I cannot help, as I currently have a non-compete at my corporate job. Consider leaving.  

2013- start doing CrossFit in January- tell everyone I’m eventually going to work there. March- leave said cushy corporate job, where I spent 8 years building a wellness program from the ground up, to be “just a CrossFit coach”. August-Start the Wellness program for the CEO like we’d talked about a few months prior. The Goalie coach for Medina Hockey is part of my “wellness warriors” there...and the story begins

2014- Asked to do some training at the rink for the team, feel grossly underqualified & slightly terrified of teenage boys, but accept anyway. Fall in love with said teenage boys, & begin telling them I will have my own gym in 2 years or less for them to workout in. Begin getting my LLC together in November

2015- January- Find a building and possible partners to make “my gym” happen. Spend nearly 2 months before/after my CrossFit job cleaning said building & trying to get things together, in the coldest winter we’ve had in years- with no heat on in the building. Hit a snag with city zoning. Opening date pushed back. Lost both of my remaining grandparents within 2 weeks of each other. Want to give up. March- Medina hockey makes it to Nationals in St Louis, I am there, as I promised I’d be 6 months earlier- REALLY want to push on & give these guys “their gym”. May- Grand Opening of our new gym home- smaller than originally planned, but completely self funded with no partners & no loans (thanks, mi familia). September- share with my business coach that my heart “just wants to coach kids & not really adults”- he is not so sure that plan will work for me. My main clientele are currently adults & I have no contacts other than Medina Hockey, but I can’t shake the feeling. I keep coaching adults & tuck the dream away. December- the desolation of my marriage due to infidelity that I never saw coming

2016- Feb-Tried to fix said desolated marriage- picking up broken pieces & forcing them together, despite a still small voice repeatedly whispering- “not this”. The rest of the year- a blur of panic, fear, over-exercising, over-working, & doing everything I could to keep my head above water, despite a brutal divorce & what felt like the crumbling of my life- all with a smile on my face & as much witty sarcasm as possible. “5 year plan” business shot to hell. Still coaching adults. Tears on the gym floor. Tears in the car.... tears all the time. Yet also, truth, friendship, freedom, grit & grace. Learned to trust God & pivot.May- find first adult church of my own. Aug- get baptized

2017- January- divorce is final. I am hated, I am reminded how hated I am (among other things) as much as possible, despite my efforts to own my part & apologize repeatedly. Learn the hard lesson that worldly “love” isn’t love at all, & it’s never enough to keep 2 broken, messed up people together. While I’m being hated from one side, & trying not to hate myself, someone amazing decides it’s a good idea to love me. I am not so sure... June- make final payment on over $20k in credit card debt. Cry. Still vow not to buy things I don’t need or use credit cards. July- get a foreclosure notice on my home- happy birthday to me Panic. Spend countless hours searching for a place I can afford that takes pets. More panic. August- watch man who loves me get baptized. Drive a different way home from church- see a handwritten “for rent” sign. Call. Find a great little house-apartment to live in less than 2 miles from my current home- bonus, I worked with the owners at my cushy corporate job mentioned above. November- lose my house due to said divorce. Get rent raised at current gym space. Feel more freedom that anything else. 

2018- Feb- start the Relentless Athlete Training Academy at my gym- a program solely for youth athletes, have over 30 kids at our first goal setting event. Heart explodes. More tears on the gym floor- happy this time. Hit a wall with some of my most dedicated youth athletes. Start losing many of my adult athletes. Question my abilities as a coach, leader, AND person. Consider giving up for the 5000th time, decide to stay the course. April- am told publicly, at a conference of coaches & fitness professionals like myself, that I will never make it in the youth training industry because “I am a woman”. Excuse myself from the table, cry, walk back to the hotel. Consider giving up. Man who has grown to love me & believe in me more than anyone convinces me otherwise. May- hire 2 of the most awesome Interns. Host the largest summer workshop to date with over 40 youth athletes. Have an opportunity to expand the gym. Pass it up. Add a “Junior” class for kids under 12.July- take 2 weeks off to help mom after surgery. Said Interns pick up the slack & knock it out of the park. Oct- tear out our office structure & renovate to make space for said new athletes, Man who wants to love me is still around, loving me despite the constant chaos. Decide we should move into said 700 sq ft house-apartment (with only one closet) together. 

2019- Adult members continue to fall away at the gym, youth classes continue to grow. Best friend leaves. Several close friends leave.  Try not to panic at shifting memberships & loss of people who’ve been with me 3 years or more. Trust God has a bigger plan. Stay in the fight. April- random stranger pulls in the parking lot during a training session & asks if I’d ever consider moving- I would. May- move into a new & improved shared space with a local gym. August- said gym owner is ready to throw in the towel & asks if I’d ever consider taking over everything- I would- - just not the debt. Agreement is not reach, continue on business as usual. Aug- on a whim, apply for Strength Coach position at Wadsworth High School. Sept- get offered said job at Wadsworth High School. Oct- engaged to the most amazing man who continues to love me & my gym kids unconditionally. Nov- background check flagged for new High School Job. Slight panic, lots of feels- why was I such as asshole in college?

2020- Jan- Said shared-space gym is sold to another gym- unbeknownst to me. Wadsworth job works out. Feb- New gym doesn’t want to share with us anymore. Once again, learn to trust & pivot. Start new job at Wadsworth, try to learn to balance that AND my gym. March- COVID shutdown. Start writing at-home training & posting Insta-stories to keep athletes engaged. Get denied for small business loans/bailout. Watch bank accounts dwindle. Pray we’ll make it through. We do. June- reopen training facility with new state- mandated protocols. Pray that people show up. They do. July- mom has 2nd cancer surgery, fiance & assistant coaches easily cover while I’m gone. Aug- reopen weight room at Wadsworth. Full steam ahead. Sept- start house hunting with fiance. Oct- finalize paperwork on our new house. Move out of apartment & into said new house. November 7- get married. Nov 26- host our first Thanksgiving in our new house with my Dad. Nov 28- get a call from the ER that my Dad has passed away from a sudden heart attack. Dec- struggle to process all that has happened, not just this year but in MY LIFE in general. Fall out of love with hardcore fitness. Have trouble praying, reading, or doing anything I used to love or use to comfort myself. Wonder if I’m depressed. Realize I have virtually no healthy coping skills. Wonder if things just seem to suck right now. Trust God & continue to pivot.

As I felt called to write this super abbreviated timeline of the past 8 years of my life, I can see God’s fingerprints in EVERYTHING. I may not have had ANY IDEA what He was doing (or that He was even PART of it) at the time, but reflecting brings SO MUCH clarity. Over these years, so much more has happened than can be typed on a screen. Learning to know Jesus has not just brought RADICAL changes in my life, but also brought me me a deeper understanding of the world around me & MYSELF. It’s like I’ve been simultaneously living my best AND worst life for years on end. I think the most critical things I’ve learned are to look for the beauty & blessings- to magnify the GOOD- it’s ALWAYS there. No matter how bad it looks for feels, it’s ALWAYS there. We are never going to escape troubles, stress or hardships- so it’s best to just breathe, trust, & learn to pivot. I can see an answer to my prayers in EVERY. SINGLE. THING. that has happened to me over the past 8 years- the good, the bad, & the ugly. Just because things may not look how I expected or imagined them to, doesn’t mean they aren’t amazing just the same. I have no idea where God is going to take me, but I know that I’ll have a pretty good story to tell <3