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#nhl self insert
holy-puckslibrary · 1 month
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˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗
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the gift of giving (18+) pairing(s) — trevor zegras x reader, jamie drysdale x reader, mason mctavish x reader, zegras x drysdale x mctavish
hands off my girl — bfb!rafe cameron x kook!reader
if we're lucky (18+) — rafe cameron x kook!gf!reader
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the spit saga (18+) pairing — jamie drysdale x reader // series inspired by this post
girl dad quinn hughes <3 ★ #1 — a gaggle of girlies ★ #2 — stuck like velcro
★ muppet crumbs (18+) pairing — subby!trent frederic x reader
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feb slumber party (18+) ★ #1 — silent treatment pairing — dbf!sidney crosby x reader ★ #2 — all nighters with rodeo riders pairing — bull-rider!mattew tkachuk x barrel racer!hughes!reader
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˗ˏˋ my inbox ˎˊ˗
original blog — @holy-pucks
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starshine-hockey-girl · 6 months
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The Invisible String
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This is my very late entry to the summer fic exchange. Yes, I am aware that it is the middle of October. The "No results and a story" excuse is that I got a huge case of writer's block followed by an ass-whooping of self doubt. However, I powered through it, and then the story just grew into this massively long piece. (17.2K- yikes)
This is written for @jarmorie who requested a reader insert or OC (she/her preferred). fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers pls I would die with Anthony Beauvillier. Jarmorie is also a big Taylor Swift fan so I tried to incorporate as much Swift content as I could.
Acknowledgements and thank yous-
@laurenairay, I can't thank you enough for pinch hitting for me when I missed the deadline. I am incredibly thankful for your endless encouragement. I hope you enjoy your brief, but pivotal cameo
@cellythefloshie - Thank you for the encouragement and embracing my verbose nature.
@dreamofstarlight and @fallinallincurls for sharing their Swiftie knowledge. I hope that I do that I did Queen Taylor justice.
@wyattjohnston - one for organizing these fic exchanges. It's a tiring and thankless task. Thank you for understanding my struggle and not shaming me.
@jarmorie I am sorry that the story was so delayed. I really wanted to write something that give you everything that you wanted.
@pattiemac1 and @penstxgal1968 for being the best support system ever. Seriously, they both deserve writing credit for all of their ideas.
Gorgeous
Inked On Ice Tattoo Shop -  Long Island, NY
“Inked on Ice, how may I help you?” Daisy yawned as the shop’s computer fired up and she settled into her chair. 
“Uh yeah,” the deep voice on the line answered, “My buddy and I want to get some ink today. Do you have anyone available?” Daisy glanced at the artist's calendars. 
“Well, it’s going to depend on size, subject and budget. What do you have in mind?” she answered quickly. After a brief discussion, Daisy honed in on available artists. “Do you want to do back to back appointments or get inked at the same time?” she asked. 
She could hear a discussion on the other end. The bland voice in a spirited discussion with another voice with a slight French accent. “Barzy,” the second said with authority, “I do not need you to hold my hand while I get a tattoo. We can get inked at the same time.” 
Daisy’s ears perked up at the name Barzy. “Can I get your names?” she asked as casually as possible as New York Islanders Mat Barzal gave his name along with Anthony Beauvillier. The tattoo shop was owned by Cameron Davies, a former New York Islander. Daisy knew that Cameron would want the pair treated with kid gloves. She examined the schedule again and made an executive decision. She would schedule the more complicated tattoo, Anthony, with JD Porter, master tattoo artist, who just had a last minute cancellation. She would schedule the simpler design, Mat Barzal, with Rocky, JD’s apprentice. . 
“So Tito is with JD and I am with Rocky? Sounds good,” the NHL upstart stated as they confirmed details, “See you at 6 PM.”
In the cozy one bedroom apartment, Rocky picked up the phone and quickly read the text from Daisy. “Yes….” Rocky whispered to no one in particular. As a tattoo apprentice, paying customers were difficult to come by. The last minute addition would give her just enough to pay her share of the rent. Given that most of her time at the shop was unpaid, Rocky’s contribution to the rent was more symbolic than practical. Kelly made enough to cover their expenses and then some, but Rocky insisted on contributing, even if it was essentially meaningless.
“Rocky!” Kelly screamed, “Are you even listening to me? We need to leave in fifteen minutes if we are going to be on time.” 
“Of course, I’m listening.” Rocky replied, “Listen- don’t be mad, but I can’t go with you. I gotta to work tonight. I scored a last minute tattoo.”
“An actual tattoo?” Kelly mocked, “or will it be another night of cleaning and wiping up after the professionals?” 
“Ouch,” Rocky replied, “You know that is part of apprenticeship. I have to pay my dues.”
Rocky’s tattoo apprenticeship was a source of contention in their relationship. The couple had moved to Long Island from Dallas as a stepping stone in Kelly’s financial services career. Together since high school, Kelly disapproved of Rocky’s fascination with all things tattoo. The financial analyst with the fast-rising career wanted a partner that would fit into the corporate world. Rocky decidedly did not fit that mold even if Kelly couldn't admit it.  The apprenticeship highlighted their vastly different career paths and their relationship bore small fissures as a result. 
“Listen,” Rocky pleaded in an attempt to head off another fight about the apprenticeship. Kelly was convinced it was going nowhere. “It’s an actual tattoo so I will get paid,” Rocky explained, “Also apparently these two guys are some sort of VIPs. The fact that Daisy and Cameron are giving one of them to me to ink is a good sign. I can’t turn it down.”
Kelly stood in disbelief and tried to summon anger at Rocky and none came. Honestly, it was a relief to put off introducing Rocky to conservative co-workers a little longer. “Fine,” Kelly said bitterly, “I’ll see you when you get home.”
Two hours later at the shop, Rocky waited patiently to the side as JD inspected the set-up of her station tucked away in the smallest room in the shop. As a mentor, JD held Rocky to a high standard. An Apprenticeship endorsed by him would carry weight within the tattoo community and JD wanted Rocky to be prepared. He gave a nod and Rocky let out a sigh of relief. Together they walked out to the lobby. 
Cameron stood talking to the two athletes about his glory days with the Islanders. Rocky could tell right away that both had passed from polite attention to “oh my god, get us out here” by the tone of their voices. After the third “that’s crazy,’ uttered by Barzal, Cameron noticed JD and Rocky standing there. When he waved them over, Barzal and Beauvillier turned to look over their shoulders. Barzal blinked and gulped while Beauvillier offered a shy smile before looking down at the floor. 
Rocky approached Barzal and extended her hand to him, “Hi, I’m Rocky. I think that you are with me tonight.”
“You’re…..You’re….. “ Barzal stammered, “a woman.” Rocky took a step back and dropped her hand in disappointment. JD and Rocky exchanged a glance before Rocky let out a sigh. Usually any pushback she received came from men much older than Barzal so she was honestly a little shocked. Mat looked stunned. “Wait, I am getting tattooed by a woman?” he asked out loud. 
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“Is there a problem?” JD asked as he looked Barzal in the eye. 
“Look, I don’t want to sound sexist here, but…..” he started to say, “I just was expecting a man. I am pretty sure the girl who made the appointment said "man.”
“I did not,” Daisy interjected, “I know for a fact I said no such thing.” When Rocky began as the first female tattoo artist in the shop’s history, Cameron and crew did not anticipate the push-back from their largely male clientele. Most guys came in because of the hockey/Islanders connection and well, their views on gender roles were not exactly progressive. The shop had adopted the policy of referring to all of the artists as gender-neutral as possible. Daisy, Cameron’s wife and partner, was especially intentional about it. Other than a few clients shocked to be facing a petite, brunette pixie of an artist, there had been no issues. 
Rocky looked to Cameron and back to Barzal. She knew that Cameron would want to keep Barzal as a client but also did not want to face the wrath of Daisy for caving in. She was about to speak when Tito Beauvillier spoke up. “She can do my tattoo,” he spoke softly at first to everyone’s surprise. Rocky turned to face the blonde and studied his face. He gave a gentle smile and spoke louder, “Yeah, I think I want her to do my tattoo.”
“I have to let you know that she is still in her apprenticeship. Just so that you are aware, she may not be able to give you the tattoo that you want,” JD explained. A pained look flashed in Rocky’s eyes and Tito took notice. Rocky hated the implication that just because she was still in an apprenticeship that she was less talented. She sucked in a deep breath that she hoped went unnoticed. She was mostly successful with the exception of Tito. He recognized the frustration of being underestimated. 
Then JD turned to Barzy, “It also means that you are going to pay more for my time. It’s up to you.”
Barzal began to hem and haw. His mouth had gotten the better of him and he had stuck his foot so far into it that he didn’t think it would be possible to retrieve. Even if he changed his mind and selected Rocky, the damage was done. Finally Tito spoke again firmly, “No way Barzy. You had your shot at her and you blew it. I want her now.” His eyes fell onto Rocky’s face and he gave a slight nod. 
Rocky laughed out loud, “Well then, let’s get to work.” 
The tiny brunette led Tito to her small section of the studio. She pointed to the table and chairs in the corner. He sat down as she picked up a notebook to take notes. “I have a few questions,” Rocky began as the scent of his cologne wafted into her nostrils. She inhaled and let out a small moan before she realized it. Tito cleared his throat and Rocky blushed in response. “The notes say that this is your first tattoo. Is that correct?” she asked in earnest, “What made you decide to do it today?”
Tito blinked slowly and thought. He hadn’t anticipated the question and was stumped for an answer. Finally he spoke, “I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but never got around to it. When Barzy said he was coming, I decided that I would go ahead and do it.” Rocky nodded her head as she listened. 
“So do you have a design or an idea in mind?” she questioned. 
“Yeah, I found this on the internet and thought it would be cool,” he answered as he fished his phone out of his pocket. Rocky waited patiently as he scrolled this phone. Finally he found the picture and held his phone out to her. She took the phone and looked at the picture. 
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Rocky blinked slowly and zoomed in on the picture. Internally, her mind raced with thought “No fucking way”, but her reasoning kicked in. Technically, it would be a challenge which pleased her, but something just didn’t sit well with her. 
She looked up to see him looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Do you like it?” he asked. Rocky flashed a smile similar to a mother gave a child when presented with a treasured piece of artwork. 
“You don’t like it?” he questioned. 
“I didn’t say that,” she replied quickly. 
“You didn’t say it out loud, but it’s what you were thinking,” he countered. 
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” she responded, “You are a paying client. If you want that design, then that’s what we will do.” Rocky bit her lip and paused before speaking again, “Let me talk to JD and get his thoughts. I want to be sure about some of the technical aspects.” She was trying to buy time to think of ways to politely talk Tito out of his design idea. Rocky walked over to JD’s station just as he was placing the stencil on Barzal’s arm. 
“Hey, before you get started,” Rocky started, “Can we go over his design?” They walked away and began an animated conversation. 
Tito looked down the hall at Rocky and watched intently. Her hands gestured wildly as she spoke with passion. He couldn’t make out the words, but whatever she said, it was said with conviction. Barzal nudged Tito with his arm, “So she is…… uhhhh…. different.” Tito continued to stare without answering. “Beau!” Barzal said loud enough to draw the attention of JD and Rocky. 
Tito was caught staring at Rocky before he quickly turned around to face Barzal with a scowl. “Did you have to yell?” he spoke softly. 
“You weren’t answering me,” his friend replied with a laugh, “I don’t like to be ignored.” 
Tito looked back over his shoulder quickly before he answered, “Technically, it wasn't a question, but a statement. Yes, I agree. She is quite unique. By the way, what was up with your attitude earlier? You think she can't tattoo because she is a woman?"
"No, that’s not it,” Barzal shot back, “I had a big, burly guy named Rocky in my head so when the pixie queen of tattoos came out, I was surprised. I put my foot in my mouth.”
Tito began to respond but noticed the duo of tattoo artists were walking back to them. 
Rocky gave what could be best described as her “customer service” smile and gestured to Tito to go back into her section. He gave a shrug to Barzal and followed her. Then he turned around to Barzal who watched, “You know what you need to do.” Barzal nodded and followed JD back to the table. 
The sound of Barzal’s soft yelp and the buzz of JD’s tattoo needle floated into Rocky’s section as they sat down again. 
“Soooooo…” Tito smiled. 
“So now that I had the technical questions I had about the design answered. I can certainly do it for you,” she smiled. 
“Why do I feel like there is a ‘but’ hanging in the air?” Tito smiled. 
“There is no but, you want the design then I will give you the correct one,” she replied coolly. 
“Rocky, tell me the truth,” Tito urged her to answer. 
“How does he know I am lying?” she questioned herself. She looked into his eyes and saw his genuine concern. She paused and thought about her answer. For some people tattoos were just not that deep, but she got the sense that Tito wasn’t one of those people. She decided to flip the script. “What is it about the design that you like?” she asked. 
“Well, I like the black and gray,” he began. When she nodded in understanding, he continued, “I liked the logo because I play for the Islanders” When her nose scrunched ever so slightly, he asked, ”What do you not like about the design?”
“This is a design for every wannabe hockey bro that wasn’t good enough to make it to the NHL,” she blurted out, “Why do you want to look like every other Goomba out there? This design tells me nothing about you as a person. It’s bland and generic and that’s not you. You’re not bland and generic.”
Tito laughed, “Tell me how you really feel.”
Rocky’s eyes flashed up and held his gaze, “Look, maybe I should take the easy money and give the tattoo you want, but that’s not the kind of artist I want to be,” she answered with passion, “I want my work to mean something, both to my client and to me. It’s probably not going to make me “successful”, but that’s really not my goal anyway.” She sighed dramatically, “And that’s not even the most obvious objection to it.” 
“And what’s the most obvious objection to it?” Tito questioned as he studied the design again. 
“When is your contract up? Do you have some sort of non-trade clause?” she asked plainly. He blinked slowly. She continued, “Seriously? When is your contract up?”
“2024,” he said softly as he began to process what she was saying, “I have another season and a half.” 
“And you’re sure that they are going to re-sign you?” she prodded, “I don’t know too much about hockey so I don’t know if you are good or not. I do know that tattooing your team name on your body seems like the hockey equivalent to tattooing your girlfriend or wife’s name on your body. It’s a lovely gesture at the moment, but what do you do when things go south?”
Tito gulped and spit out, “I see your heart and soul is as black as your jet black hair.”
Rocky sat up straight, “Would you rather me not say anything?”
“No, you’re right,” he laughed, “You’re totally right. It looks like I am not getting a tattoo, at least tonight.” They sat silently and looked at each other. Both of them sizing the other up. Finally Tito spoke, “So if you think this design is trash, what design do you think I should get.”
“Something unique, something that tells a story about you,” Rocky pondered out loud. 
“Unique? What’s unique about me? I am just a guy who plays hockey,” Tito challenged. 
“Nah, you are so much more than that,” Rocky answered a little too quickly. 
“How can you tell?” he quizzed. 
“That twinkle in your eye,” Rocky smiled, “There is a whole world hidden behind the twinkles in your eyes.” 
Tito leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “I could say the same about you.” 
Rocky blushed momentarily before the vibration on her phone drew her attention. It was a text from Kelly letting her know that he would be home late. His department decided on dinner after drinks. Rocky shook her head and silently admonished herself. She wouldn’t exactly call her behavior flirting, but it definitely wasn’t strictly professional. Rocky looked up into Tito’s soft blue eyes again. She was right. There was a whole world hidden in there. A world that she wanted to know more about. 
“I could design something for you,” she blurted out before she processed the thought.
“I would be honored,” he answered quickly, surprising himself. 
“So tell me about yourself, Mr. Beauvillier,” she leaned forward and put her chin into her hand while her elbow rested on the table. 
“Well, I was born in Quebec….” he began. 
She held up a finger and grabbed a pen and paper to write notes and sketch ideas. She motioned for him to continue and he did. Every once in a while he would lean forward to sneak a peek at what she wrote down or doodled. She pushed him away with a playful shove and smile
An hour later Rocky jumped at the sound of JD’s loud knocks. “Hey,” he said with a frown on his face, “We’re done in here.” Tito looked up with a smile. JD. grunted and turned around. 
“What’s his problem?” Tito nodded his head at the door. 
Rocky shrugged her shoulders, “He’s probably pissed that he is going to miss his cut of my fee.” Tito tilted his head in question. “Since he is my mentor, he gets a cut of my fee along with the shop,” she explained, “No tattoo, no fee.” 
“If it’s about the money, I am happy to pay,” Tito offered
Rocky neatly piled up her things. “He’s probably pissed too since he told me just to do the damn design.” she added. They walked out together and waited as Daisy cashed Barzal out. 
“Beau,” Barzal popped off, “What? Did you wimp out?”
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“Nah,” Tito answered, “I convinced her to work with me on a custom design. I am thinking of a half sleeve to start that we can add onto later down the road.” JD’s eyebrows raised and Rocky shrugged her shoulders. Barzal turned to them, “What do you think? Pretty badass, huh?”
Rocky suppressed a giggle, “Oh, totally. You’re like the Lion King. Should I call you Simba?” Tito guffawed until Barzal shot him a look. 
“Hurry up so I can pay, Simba,” Tito joked. Barzal casually flipped him off and turned to pay.
“Pay for what? You didn’t get a tattoo?” Rocky said in a stunned voice. 
“Yes, I do need to pay. We were in a consultation. JD, what’s the price per hour for consultations?” Tito looked over to ask Rocky’s mentor. 
“One fifty,” he answered tersely. Rocky bit her lip. He quoted a rate that was double her normal rate and Tito hadn’t blinked an eye. Of course, she knew that JD’s reasons were not altruistic at all. A higher rate meant a higher cut for him and the shop. It also meant that he could now charge Barzal double his normal rate for the basic tattoo he did. Rocky admired his hustle, even if she felt guilty about Tito paying more than necessary for it. 
After Barzal paid, Tito cleared his throat loudly and nodded to Rocky. Barzal shot him a look of confusion. Tito muttered under his breath, “apologize”. Rocky’s head shot up and she looked at Tito who shrugged his shoulders. Barzal nodded in understanding. 
“Uhhhh, Rocky?” Barzal started, “I apologize for earlier. I really wasn’t trying to knock you as an artist. I really was just expecting a big, burly guy based on the name. No offense meant.” Rocky smiled and looked down as she contemplated how long to make the hockey phenom squirm. “Seriously, I am not really a sexist pig,” he continued, “I have much respect for women.”
“Sure you do,” Rocky laughed.
“I swear I do,” Barzal squeaked, “Tell her Beau.”
Tito paused to allow him to sit in his discomfort, “I can attest that Barzy is a great admirer of women who happened to stick his foot so far into his mouth that he is choking on it. I am not sure if it's because of the nasty toe jam or God-awful odor.” Barzal’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.
Rocky giggled, “It’s okay, Simba. I am just busting your balls out of amusement. A little bit of friendly fire, I suppose.”
Barzal shot Tito a glare. “Thanks. It looks like I may need new friends these days,” he smiled as the group walked toward the exit. Rocky and Tito exchanged numbers, which did not go unnoticed by Barzal. When he questioned Tito in the car afterwards, Tito dismissed his comment. “It will be easier to set up time to go over ideas directly with her.” 
“Whatever you say,” Barzal retorted, “I am sure it has nothing to do with the puppy dog eyes you make when looking at her. No, not at all.”
Inside the tattoo parlor, Cameron buzzed about the potential exposure the shop would receive if Barzal posted his new tattoo on social media. JD looked like a deer caught in headlights. While a master tattoo artist, JD was woefully behind the times on social media, considering it an unnecessary evil. Rocky shook her head, “I’ll take care of it.” 
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Kelly was sitting on the couch when Rocky arrived back at their apartment. She walked over and kissed the top of his head as he watched Squawk Box on CNBC. “How did the dinner go?” she asked softly. She began stripping as he watched the television. 
“Huh?” he answered as he glanced over at her bare torso as she stripped off her leggings. 
“I said how did the dinner go? Were you able to talk to Ross about your idea?” she asked as she walked into the bedroom to grab one of his large t-shirts to sleep. 
“Oh yeah,” he answered, “We just need the go ahead from Grant and we will be good to go. Hey, I brought you dessert from the restaurant.” 
Rocky walked back out and smiled, “That’s great. We both got good news tonight.” Kelly had turned his attention back to the television. She sighed and walked into the kitchen, opened the take out bag and stared at the cheesecake in the container. It was covered in strawberry syrup. She looked at Kelly in disbelief and then shook her head. Rocky’s favorite was, indeed, cheesecake, but she was allergic to strawberries. She had been since childhood. Kelly knew this, or at least had been told at least a dozen times. He probably scanned the menu, saw the cheesecake and ordered it in hurry. It was the little details that he ignored that drove her crazy. When he was in his "work zone", he lost all focus on anything else.
She placed the cheesecake into the refrigerator. She mumbled something about going to bed. She glanced at her phone and saw the text notifications. 
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Rocky looked at her phone and her eyes widened. She had almost 1,000 new followers including Tito, Barzal and a half a dozen other Islanders. 
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Thursday- Inked on Ice- Long Island
JD did a double take when Rocky passed him on her way to her station. Rocky’s de facto uniform for work days was a vintage concert or slogan t-shirt with distressed jeans. Today, however, she wore form-fitting black leather pants paired with a crisp white button down shirt. The shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hot pink spaghetti strap camisole. Her hair had also been artfully piled atop her head with a hot pink bandana in the “Rosie the Riveter” look. Most of the staff had a similar reaction. 
“What?” she questioned when Daisy let out a low whistle, "I just felt like dressing up."
“I hope you are comfortable because you are now officially booked solid," Daisy smiled. 
Rocky blinked and swallowed deep. She was finally coming into her own as a tattoo artist. She was still doing smaller and less intricate designs but her technique improved with each one. She took her schedule and got ready for her first appointment. 
Seven hours later, Tito walked into the shop. Daisy immediately greeted him, "Rocky is wrapping up a tattoo. It should be a few minutes." Tito took notice of Rocky's neatly labeled portfolio. The contents mainly consisted of small tattoos that she had done in a variety of styles. The mix was split evenly between color and gray. In the back were larger, more intricate designs.
He was lost in thought when Rocky approached from behind.  "See anything you are interested in?
"They are all great," he said after he collected himself, "I like these landscape ones. That one reminds me of my days playing on an outdoor rink."
Rocky leaned forward to confirm which drawing he meant. Her breath felt warm against his neck and he inhaled her perfume. "Oh, that one? Let's go talk in my section," she said softly, oblivious to his reaction. She turned around and walked back to her small room. Tito gulped and turned to follow. His eyes involuntarily swept over her body as she walked in front of him. 
She was already sitting down when he entered. He stopped at the door and observed her as she pulled out her sketch pad and pencils. "Either come inside or go get me coffee," she joked.
"Coffee?" he asked, "What's your order?"
"Unsweet iced coffee with an extra shot and skim milk, 2 pumps of sugar free vanilla syrup, 2 Splenda and light caramel drizzle," she answered without looking up.
"You know I have zero shot of getting that right," he smiled.
"Beauregard, if you can remember the draft line-up of your draft in order, then you can remember this," she looked up and flashed a smile. He laughed softly. "Or you could just tell them Rocky's usual," she smiled wider, "Whatever is easier."
"You’re a regular over there?" he asked as he began to leave.
"Yes, and I tip very well. Don't ruin my rep, Beauregard," she warned, "Go and let me work. I am inspired."
"Beauregard?" He stopped, "You can't call me Tito or Beau like everyone else?"
"Do I look like a woman who does what everyone else does?' she retorted.
"Silly me," he sighed, "and to think I am paying to go be your coffee bitch." He waited for a response but she had focused on her paper again. 
When he returned with her iced coffee, music was playing. She expertly added shading to the drawing while she sang. https://open.spotify.com/track/1ZY1PqizIl78geGM4xWlEA?si=eebcaf1014c24c38
But if you're single that's honestly worse
'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts
(Honey, it hurts)
Ocean blue eyes looking in mine
I feel like I might sink and drown and die
You're so gorgeous
I can't say anything to your face (to your face)
'Cause look at your face (look at your face)
And I'm so furious
At you for making me feel this way (this way)
But what can I say?
You're gorgeous
He watched her for a moment before he involuntarily started singing as well.
You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah
There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have
You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad (mmh)
You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah
There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have and
Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats (yeugh)
Alone, unless you wanna come along (oh)
Rocky looked up when she heard his voice and smiled. Tito gallantly presented her with her complex coffee order. He glanced over at the picture before teasing, “So you’re a Swiftie? That’s surprising.” 
“Why?” she asked. 
He made a hand gesture up and down. “The hair, the tattoos, piercings all scream metal goth girl, but here you are jamming away to basic white girl music while drinking basic white girl coffee. Color me confused.”
“That’s what you get when you judge a book by its cover. You miss the complexity of most humans,” she said philosophically. “By the way, I did notice you jamming along. Are there a lot of Swifties in the NHL?”
“Nah, my ex, Tiffany, was one," he answered, "I became one by osmosis."
"Really?" She replied, "My boyfriend just mocks me."
“Ahhhhh,” Tito, “He doesn’t know what he is missing. Taylor Swift is a musical genius.”
"Well, well, well," Rocky whistled, "Look who is the basic white girl now.” 
“Shut up and show me the sketch that you have been so focused on,” he answered as he rolled his eyes. 
She slid the sketch pad over to him and looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “I tried to incorporate everything that we talked about last time,” she said quietly. Rocky wasn’t sure as she was filled with apprehension suddenly. Her art was one of the few areas of her life that she was sure about these days. 
Tito gingerly touched the sketch pad and took in each detail of the illustration. He was surprised by the lack of color, but it was so effective that he couldn’t imagine the piece in anything but simple black and gray. It was the embodiment of everything that they had discussed. 
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“What do you think?” she asked. 
Tito swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the tears filling his eyes. “I think,” he started before pausing to steady his voice, “I think it’s perfect.”
“Really?” she smiled tentatively, “You really like it?”
He looked up at her and stared for a moment. Underneath the heavy make-up and tough exterior, he saw her sweet spirit. She was more complex and multi-dimensioned than anyone he had ever met despite practically being a stranger. She had put her heart and soul into this drawing and the magnitude of that action was not lost on him. 
“Yes,” he smiled, “I wouldn’t change a thing about it.”
MIDNIGHT RAIN
The next few weeks were a blur to Rocky. Her days were filled with appointments and consultations. Word of mouth began to spread as client after client posted their ink on social media. Glowing reviews accompanied each post, and Rocky’s reputation began to grow in the tattoo community. Pretty soon, some pretty big name artists began following her, including Catarina Vandewahl, who was a pioneer female tattoo artist. 
 With her growing popularity came sacrifices and hardships. Rocky worked hard to capitalize on the buzz around her work and kept herself booked solid. It meant less and less time at home with Kelly.  They became like ships passing in the night. He was going to bed as she got home from a long day at the shop and left before she woke up for the day. On the rare occasion they were together, they both struggled to find the connection that had bonded them in their youth. Kelly worked feverishly on his work project while Rocky sat on the couch and watched hockey. 
The texts between Tito and Rocky began as strictly business. Short and brief texts to schedule time to work on his tattoo. It was a task that was becoming more and more difficult to complete due to their hectic schedules. However, somewhere along the line, the tone changed from professional to borderline flirtation. 
They scheduled his six hour session two days after Taylor Swift’s Midnights album release. It was a rare day off for Tito and Mondays were usually light for Rocky so she was able to make adjustments to her calendar. The plan was for the duo to experience the album together so they swore to each other to remain as “spoiler free” as possible. 
In the meantime, Rocky began to follow the Islanders closely. Growing up in Dallas, she was a casual fan of the Stars. She knew the basics of hockey, but not the finer details. She grew frustrated trying to watch Tito play. Eventually, they developed a routine of Tito picking a game on his “off” nights, and they would text back and forth throughout the game. Of course, it was all in the name of teaching Rocky about hockey. However, the subject quickly opened up to broader discussions that almost touched on the philosophical. 
Tito kept her updated about life on the road and humorous stories of adventures with teammates. Rocky threw in stories from the tattoo shop. From there, the subject of relationships bubbled up. Tito was shocked to find himself revealing his frustrations in finding a woman that was willing to put up with his unusual schedule while maintaining her own identity. Most women seemed more than ready to give up their own “careers” to make themselves available to NHL players. Tito found it tedious and boring. 
Eventually Rocky found herself venting to Tito about how Kelly and her were on almost completely opposite schedules and how isolated she felt from him. Almost immediately, she regretted it and walked back her statements. Internally she scolded herself for crossing some imaginary line. For his part, Tito avoided the subject and redirected back to the game they were supposed to be watching. He couldn’t even think of a reason why he felt the need to change the subject. They were both venting about essentially the same subject. Still he felt a sting as he listened to her vent and he pictured her domestic life with her boyfriend. The sting was especially strong as he looked around his nondescript hotel room and remembered that there would be no one waiting for him when he returned home at the end of the road trip. 
The cracks in Rocky and Kelly’s relationship began to deepen the weekend before Tito’s appointment. With his big work project complete, Kelly looked to reconnect with his long-time love. He made a reservation at a romantic restaurant and booked a suite at the Plaza. It was the sort of restaurant that demanded a level of elegance and style that was out of Rocky’s comfort zone. 
“Quit fidgeting,” Kelly smiled as they followed the hostess to their table at the back of the restaurant. His hand was on the small of her back as she smoothed her hair down. She had just dyed her hair a vibrant red that morning and spent an inordinate amount of time curling it to achieve the perfect vintage fifties vibe she was going for. 
“People are staring at me,” she said quietly. 
“Please,” he joked, “You don’t dye your hair that color while wearing that dress if you don’t want attention.” Rocky flinched internally at his words. After they sat down, she quickly picked up the menu to study it. The fact it also shielded the tears that welled up in her eyes was an added bonus. 
“Hey,” Kelly said softly, “Let me see your face.”
“I’m deciding what to eat,” she said as she willed her voice to remain steady. 
“Rox,” he whispered, “Let me see your face.” She bit her lip. He only called her Rox when he was being sweet and kind to her. While she couldn’t say that he had been unkind recently, there had been a dearth of sweetness over the past couple of months. Slowly, she lowered the menu to let him see her face. “Rox,” he sighed.
“Do you think I dress the way I do for attention?” she murmured, “Do you think I am that kind of person?”
Kelly reached for her hand and grabbed it before she withdrew it. “I think that you can’t dye your hair fire engine red and cover yourself in tattoos and then be shocked when you get attention from normal people.”
“Normal people?” she questioned as she raised her menu again, “I am not a normal person? Since when?” 
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he said flatly, “I don’t want to argue. I like the hair and the dress. You look beautiful and unique. You should rock the hell out of it while you can.” 
“While I can?” she asked after the server took their order, “What is that supposed to mean?” 
“Rox,” he said, “Don’t overthink it. I just want to have a romantic night with my girl.” 
Something inside of her bristled at the comment “his girl”. She tried to focus on his intent or at least what she believed to be his intent. Kelly wasn’t a malicious person. He was actually quite thoughtful and caring. In fact, it was one of her favorite qualities about him. She looked at him and smiled. "So do you want to hear about my week?" He nodded in affirmation and she began telling a funny story about a misspelled tattoo. 
Back in their hotel suite later, they had exhausted all subjects of conversation. Rocky pulled out her phone as a distraction and saw the notification from Tito.
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Rocky quickly typed out a reply.
Rocky- Hey…. Quit cheating
Tito- Who? Me?
Rocky- Yes, you - Beauregard
Tito- #sorrynotsorry. I am bored in the hotel room. Staying spoiler free is hard.
Rocky- Quit being a spoiler whore and go to sleep. You will need your energy for Monday.
Tito- That's right- you're going to pop my cherry. Be gentle with me.
Rocky stared at the screen. She knew full well that he was referring to his first tattoo experience. However, suddenly, a very graphic image of her sliding down onto him filled her mind. She could almost hear him whisper in his light accent, "Be gentle with me." Rocky dropped her phone which drew Kelly's attention. He gave a funny face and she scrambled to grab the phone to prevent Kelly from seeing the content. Then she remembered that it had only been a figment of her imagination and not anything that could be read
Tito- Rocky?
Rocky- Sorry, dropped phone. Yes, I will be gentle with you. I gotta go. We’re headed to bed. TTYL.
Tito stared at the screen. "Headed to bed?" he thought. A vision of Rocky riding him while throwing her head back filled his mind. He tried to imagine just how much of her upper body was decorated with ink. He stared at the screen, then put the phone down. He turned on the TV and willed himself to not look at the phone. “Fuck it,” he groaned as he picked up his phone again. Without thinking, he found himself on her Instagram page scrolling through pictures. “Don’t hit like, don’t fucking hit the like button,” he reminded himself as he stalked. It was mainly tattoo photos with an occasional selfie. He scrolled back up and stopped. “Damn,” he whispered to himself, “Damn.” 
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Before he could stop himself, he responded with a flirty reply. He saw Kelly’s response and exhaled in disgust before clicking on his profile. His posts consisted of mainly “bro” activities - hanging out with friends, tailgating at Jets games, trips to the shore, etc. Tito noticed that they were only rare pictures of Rocky, at least recently.
Pretty soon, he had spent an hour down the rabbit hole of Kelly’s profile. He had pieced together a rough timeline of Rocky’s relationship with Kelly. It started off strong in high school with nearly constant photos. Things definitely cooled in college as Kelly morphed from slightly emo/goth boy to total finance bro . There was a direct correlation between their individual transformations and their relationship-at least based on what you could see on social media. Tito would bet that Rocky's tattoos and fashion style were an issue. The more she got, the less he posted her picture. A couple of years after graduation, other than holiday and anniversary posts, she was non-existent on his timeline. It wasn't as if Kelly was necessarily hiding his relationship with Rocky on social media, but he wasn't exactly shouting it from the rooftops either. He did a similar deep dive onto Rocky’s page and reached the same conclusion. 
He scrolled back to her post from that night. How could the things that he found so fascinating about Rocky be an issue for this Kelly dude? He didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand it all. Tito gently touched the screen with his thumb. Her smile made him feel things. Her eyes, he thought to himself, her eyes were bright on the surface, but underneath there was a world that he wanted to know. He wanted to know what made her happy and what made her sad. He wanted to know what she thought about the new Taylor Swift album. He wanted to know her thoughts about everything. 
Back at the Plaza, Rocky sighed heavily as she tried to get comfortable in the oversized hotel bed.  As much as she appreciated the thought and effort that Kelly had put into making the night special, something had fallen flat. Even their lovemaking had been lackluster with them both going through the motions without any true passion between them. Muscle memory elicited perfunctory orgasms for each of them before both they rolled in opposite directions to sleep. Rocky tried "fluffing" her pillow before grabbing her phone. 
She glanced at Instagram and smiled at Tito's comment. "Can't sleep?" Kelly said sleepily.
"No, maybe it was the espresso martini at dinner?" She replied.
"Rox, you mainline coffee all day long. How can an espresso martini affect you like this?" he challenged. She shrugged her shoulders. "Come here," he held out his arm to her, "I'll try the head thing." Rocky rolled over and snuggled into his chest. They laid in silence for a minute. Kelly's fingertips ran up and down arm gently in slow, methodical fashion. He could feel the tension oozing out of her pores. "Rox, talk to me," he finally asked, "I know that something set you off tonight."
"Well, first you said I wasn't normal," she started meekly.
"Normal wasn't the right word," he interjected, "Average is more accurate. It wasn't meant as an insult, Rox. You should know that you stand out in a crowd. You are special and unique….."
"Why do I sense that there is a but hanging in the air?" She questioned.
"There is no but hanging in the air…." He snapped back.
"What did you mean when you said I should rock the hell out of my look while I can?" she lifted her head and stared into his eyes. 
"There it is. That is what you have been stewing over since dinner," he sighed, "What I meant was that eventually you will need to dress more appropriately. Wait, appropriate is not the right word. Hmmmm, maybe I should say….ummmm, subdued."
"Subdued? Why do I need to be subdued?" She shot back.
 He sighed, "because eventually I will need you to be a partner. I can't become a CEO without a good partner."
"CEO?" she balked, "Since when do you want to become a CEO? What happened to the 'work as hard as we can fo the next ten years so we can retire and travel the world" plan? When did that change?"
Kelly blinked, "When I started and discovered that I actually liked it. I am good at my job and I can go further than I thought I could. I know it doesn't mean shit to you but I love it. If you gave it a chance, you might like it too."
Rocky searched into his eyes to gauge his seriousness. Her gaze was met with an expression of such earnestness that she felt actual pain in her heart. "Tell me more about this plan," she said softly before she laid her head on his chest and he wrapped his arm around her to pull her close. She listened as he explained his fifteen year long route to CEO. It included getting married within two years and having their first child two years after that. Everything was mapped out in such detail that Rocky was beginning to wonder when exactly the original plan changed and when he was planning on telling her.
"You're being awfully quiet, Rox," he said at the end as he wrapped up.
"It's a lot to take in," she whispered, "It's a lot to take in."
"You'll at least consider it? Will you at least consider it for me?" He asked hopefully.
"Yes, I will think about it," she sighed. 
Kelly kissed the top of her head, "You're the best. I love you."
"Love you too," she yawned, "let's get some sleep."
TWO DAYS LATER- INKED ON ICE Tattoo Shop
Tito winced and gritted his teeth as Rocky worked on the outline of the complex tattoo design they had settled on. “How are you doing there, Beauregard?” Rocky asked cheerfully. Tito had been sitting stoically for almost three hours. The session started out strong. They started with listening to Taylor Swift’s Midnights, but after two times they grew restless. When Rocky suggested switching to Speak Now, he readily agreed. 
He groaned, “Why on earth would you willingly do this multiple times?”
Rocky smiled, “I don’t know. The art is worth the pain, I suppose. Of course, it could also be that I am tougher than you and can take the pain. I would have thought a hockey player would be tougher but then again Barzal cried like a little bitch too.”
“Hey,” he whined, “Would you like me to tell you all of the injuries that I have played with?”
“Will it make you quit whining?” she countered, “If so, then by all means, tell me how tough you are.” Rocky knew that it would draw his focus away from the tattoo and therefore the pain. Sure enough, the conversation bought Rocky about forty five minutes of productive work time. When he began to lose focus again, Rocky tapped his leg. “Hey, we are at a good stopping point for a break. You rest and I will go grab us some lunch from next door. The lasagna is top notch.” Tito breathed a sigh of relief. Within minutes, Rocky had prepared his arm enough to move freely. “Stretch, move around and relax,” she instructed, “We have about another four hours to finish it. Think you can handle it?” She looked at him with concern. It was his first tattoo and she wanted to be sure that he didn’t tap out before she finished. Also, she wouldn’t admit to anyone, but part of her wondered if she could take another four hours on trying to focus on tattooing while she ignored the intrusive thoughts in her head. 
When she returned with the food, he was casually scrolling through his phone. He graciously accepted the lasagna and bottle water. “What do I owe you?” he asked. 
“You don’t need to pay me back,” she insisted. 
“I am not used to women buying me food,” he blushed. 
Rocky blinked, “Beauregard….. What kind of women are you dating? They don’t even do the courtesy to reach for their wallet? Where are you finding them? Puckbunnies.com?”
“Hey,” Tito cautioned, “Tap the brakes there.”
Rocky immediately hung her head, “I am sorry, Beau. Truly, I am. I am just dealing with a personal thing and it’s got me extra “fight the patriarchy” right now. 
Tito’s face immediately softened, “Something personal? With your boyfriend? What’s his name again- Kelly?”
Rocky sighed, “Yeah, something with him. Hey, how did you know his name?”
Tito blinked. He didn’t want to admit to the stalking of Instagram. “Ummm, didn’t he comment on the picture the other day?” he answered casually. 
“Oh yeah,” Rocky smiled, “I forgot about that.” 
They sat in silence for a moment. The unanswered question hung in the air. Finally Tito asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” 
Rocky fought the impulse to open to him. “He’s a client,” she told herself before she took another bit of lasagna. She looked out of the corner of her eye to find Tito staring, waiting on an answer. “Beauregard, I appreciate the offer. It’s nothing earth shattering or dramatic," she offered as an answer. When his eyes didn't move from her face, "Stop staring at me. You're being weird," 
Tito looked down and thought, "Was he being weird?" Then he shook his head and looked at her. Her eyes held a silent plea to drop the subject. He waffled between pushing for an answer, absolutely hoping for any news that the relationship had cracks that could be exploited and letting her tell him without pressure. He grimaced at his mind that jumped at the opportunity to "exploit" any weaknesses in her relationship. No, if they had a future together in their destinies, it would happen without manipulation or pressure. He smiled and deflected, "So, ummmm, where did Rocky come from? Did your dad just really want a boy?"
She was thankful for the deflection. She wasn't ready to put her emotions into words yet. Rocky grinned widely, "It's short for Raquelle. My younger brother, Gabriel, could only say Raq and not Raquelle. Alexander turned it into Rocky after I beat him up." Tito's eyes widened. "Well, he deserved it. He stole my Nintendo DS," she explained. 
"Remind me never to get on your bad side, Raquelle," Tito smiled.
There was something about the way that he said her name made her heart leap with joy. She felt blush overcome her cheeks and she looked away. Tito thought she never looked more beautiful. "Yep, I am going to call you Raquelle from now on," he teased casually.
"Whatever you say, Anthony " she countered. Both of them scrunched their noses immediately. "Nope, Beauregard is better," she declared. She glanced at the clock. "Now eat up, Beauregard," she ordered, "We are going to start in ten minutes and keep going until we are done."
"Yes, Raqueĺle," he cooed, exaggerating each syllable in his slight French accent. Rocky bit her lip and took a bite of lasagna. "I will let you torture me again in ten minutes." he laughed.
Rocky's plan to carb load Tito worked. When they began again, he got into the zone. He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. His body entered into a trance like state and they powered through together. They were reaching the finish line when "Midnight Rain" started. https://youtu.be/Odh9ddPUkEY?si=IRMd5VC86a0xnQ77. Taylor's voice filled the room
Rain, he wanted it comfortable
I wanted that pain
He wanted a bride
I was making my own name
Chasing that fame
He stayed the same
All of me changed like midnight
Rocky's head popped and listened to the song that seemed to encapsulate the current state of her relationship. When the words "Cause he was sunshine, I was midnight rain,.He wanted it comfortable,I wanted that pain" floated across the room, her eyes filled with tears. Unable to see, she lifted the needle from Tito's skin.  The lack of sensation reached into his brain but did not penetrate. It was the tear that splashed down on his forearm that got his attention. He looked at the wet mark and then lifted his eyes to look at her face
 Tears streamed down as she stared into space. "Rocky? Are you okay?" He sat straight up in the chair. She glanced at him and cried harder. "Rocky, what happened?" He questioned. "Mon ami, what happened? Did you make a mistake?" She shook her head vigorously. 
"He is sunshine and I am midnight rain. He wants comfortable and I want pain," she said out loud to no one in particular.
"Who?" His hand went to her cheek, "Kelly?" She nodded her head. "What happened, Mon Ami? You were fine," he soothed. 
"The song," she choked out.
He listened as the song ended. "Which song?" He asked.
"Midnight Rains," she whispered.
"The breakup song?" He asked in the tenderest voice. 
Rocky wiped her tears, "He has a fifteen year plan now. He wants to be a CEO and he wants me to be the good little corporate wife." Tito's mind raced. "Can you imagine?" She whined, "Can you imagine me at the country club."
"No, no I can't." He answered honestly. "How do you feel about that?"
"Terrified," she blurted out, "What if I can't do it? What if I lose myself in the process?
"Do you even want to do it? He asked sincerely, "Is that the life you want?"
She stared at him like he had three heads. Of course, it was Kelly. He was her future. He had been her future since she can remember. She hadn't considered what she wanted. 
He wiped her tears that still flowed." It is just a song," he whispered, "It doesn't have to mean a break up." Internally he screamed at himself to shut up, but he couldn't stop himself. No, if she was going to end things, she would do it without his interference. It was clear that she wasn't ready to let go. "Rocky…." He continued as she stared into space, "Raquelle…." Her head snapped in direction. "It's just a song," he explained, "You get to decide your future. You can have any future you want."
Rocky inhaled deeply, "You think?"
"I know," he smiled back.
"Thank you Beauregard," she smiled, "You're a good friend to me." Her breath hitched as the word came out of her mouth. 
"It is my pleasure," he smiled, "It's.honor and a pleasure to be your friend. However, if you don't finish this ink soon, I am going to come to my senses soon and I will never let you near me with a needle again."
Rocky glared, "No way you are tapping out now. Buckle up Beauregard.".He sat back and closed his eyes. "Alexa, play Shake It Off."
Thirty minutes later, Tito stood and admired the design. "It's perfect," he praised, "I can't wait to post it." 
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Two weeks later - USB Arena
Kelly held the ticket stub in his hand as they walked around the concourse of the USB arena. “Rox,” he said suddenly, “These are lower bowl seats. I think these seats are pretty close to the glass. Where did you get them again?”
“I told you,” she said sweetly, “A client gave them to me as a thank you.” Kelly led them down the stairs to the seats which were right next to the Islanders penalty box. Rocky took the seat nearest the box. Kelly had a thing about having an easy exit out of crowded places and would have felt boxed in. The music in the arena was loud and pulsating. Rocky looked around and absorbed the vibe. She was lost in thought when a loud horn sounded. She looked up to see the Islander team taking the ice. She hadn’t even noticed that she held her breath until she saw Tito step out onto the ice following Barzal. She smiled and exhaled as her eyes stayed glued to him. 
She couldn’t help but notice the difference in him. His face was devoid of expression and his eyes focused on the ice in front of him as the group began to make laps around their end of the ice. Gone was the friendly, but somewhat introverted Beauregard that she knew. In place was a determined and focused warrior. Rocky was tempted to bang on the glass when Barzal took a position in front of her seats to begin his stretches. She decided against creating a potential awkward moment. Instead she searched for Tito, she found him on the opposite side of the ice, stretching as well.
A high pitched squeal of "Barzy" penetrated the air and he leisurely looked over his shoulder to find the source. A gaggle of college girls stood behind Rocky holding a sign that said "Barzy- You can go 5 hole on us." He smirked and shook his head before noticing Rocky, who very obviously focused on something that had her complete attention. He had a hunch on the object of her focus. It was confirmed when he followed her sight line that went straight to Tito. 
He almost shouted across the ice, but thought better of it. Instead he waited, they stood next to each other for a drill. "Hey Tito, why didn't you say anything about Rocky being here tonight," Barzal remarked casually, "Those are better seats than we normally get to give away. Did you ask for extra nice ones for her?"
Tito's head spun around in surprise, "What? Where?"
Barzal pointed to Rocky's location. Tito looked and saw her staring in his direction. He felt his stomach flip while a smile spread across his face. He waved shyly and Rocky felt her face flush.
"Did that player just wave at you?" Kelly asked. He turned to Rocky who waved back to Tito before she turned to face him. 
“Yeah, I know him from the shop,” she answered evasively. Immediately she felt a pang of guilt hit. Between her earlier fascination and not completely honest answer, she walked the boundary of both her relationship with Kelly AND Tito. She added, “I actually did a tattoo for him a couple of weeks ago.” 
“Oh,” Kelly turned to assess the hockey player, “So that’s why your schedule has blown up recently. You are tattooing ‘celebrities’ these days. Good for you.”
Rocky turned to Kelly with her arms folded. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Did I say that it was a bad thing?” Kelly questioned incredulously. 
The couple stood and stared at each other.. The stare down lasted long enough to attract Tito’s attention. His eyes widened slightly when Rocky’s angry expression registered. He started skating before his brain engaged. A guttural instinct took over. Someone had upset his Raquelle and that- it was just unacceptable. He hit the boards immediately in front of Kelly with enough force to knock Kelly’s beer off the ledge he had left it sitting on. The beer splashed Kelly’s jeans while the sound of the hit reverberated through the area. Kelly looked down at his pants, then to Tito who stared him down on the other side of the glass. “Hey!” Kelly yelled as Tito looked at Rocky who stood with her jaw dropped. 
Her mind raced to imagine a justification for Tito’s actions and she could find none. Her look of confusion felt like a stab in the heart to Tito. Rocky turned to Kelly who burst out laughing. The reaction of the crowd in the section was the rousing cheer of approval and amusement. Tito winked at Rocky before he skated off to the bench. “Hey Jake,” Tito called the equipment manager, “You have any money?”
“Why?” the assistant equipment yelled back.
“I knocked that guy’s beer over. I need to buy him another one,” Tito explained.. “Come on, you know I am good for it,” Tito cajoled. Jack turned to delegate the task to one of the team interns when Tito yelled again. 
As he made his request, Jake looked on incredulously. “You owe me, Beau- you owe me,” he laughed as he walked away. 
In the brief time between end of warm-up and puck drop, a hapless team intern came bounding down the steps toward Kelly and Rocky. He stood at the end of the row and yelled down to them. “Hey, Tito bought you a beer to replace the one he knocked over,” the intern said cheerfully as he passed the cup of beer down the row. Then he passed down the large coffee cup and added, “This is for Rocky?” Kelly eyed her suspiciously as Rocky waited for the cup. When she received it, she glanced to get confirmation. It was her ridiculously complicated drink. Tito made someone go to Starbucks and return with a coffee specifically made for her. 
“Can you tell him thank you?” she smiled at the intern. 
“You can tell him yourself,” the intern responded, “He wants me to bring you down to the locker room after the game. Wait here and I will come get you after the third period.” 
“Wow,” Kelly quipped, “That must have been one hell of a tattoo you did for him. You’re getting VIP treatment.”
Later, toward the end of the second period, Rocky leaned forward and intently watched the faceoff taking place in front of her. Kelly had made an early exit to beat the line at the concession stand. The Islanders were in a tight, chippy game against the Dallas Stars- the score tied up at one. Tito lined up against Jamie Benn who acknowledged him with a head nod. Tito looked back over his shoulder and glanced at Rocky but then returned his focus to the task at hand. Benn laughed, “Is that your girl? She looks like fun.” 
Tito responded with a shove to Benn’s chest, “Shut up.” Benn retaliated with a stick poke and a smile- content with the knowledge that he had found a way to get under Tito’s skin. Both resumed position again but began jostling sticks back and forth. When the puck dropped, he used his stick to upend Tito. 
 The move drew the ire of the Islander crowd and Rocky stood up and yelled, “Hey, you can’t do that.” Benn smiled even bigger as Tito got up and launched a shove into his opponent’s chest. The captain grabbed a hold of the stick and they jostled for a few moments before Tito dropped his gloves and reached to pull Benn down into a headlock before he started swinging. He landed several punches before the bigger man was able to pull him down to the ground. Refs separated them. Tito ripped off his helmet as he got back to his feet and shook his head. . 
Benn smiled, sure that he had instigated Tito into a penalty. During a tie game, drawing a penalty was crucial. His smile soon disappeared when he realized that it was he that was getting the extra penalty for his trip. Tito gave him a smile, “Thanks for the power play. It will come in handy.” 
He entered the penalty box casually, sitting down on the bench and placing his helmet beside him. He wiped his face with the towel as Benn yelled from his box. Tito looked over lazily as he caught his breath. “Lucky you,” the captain yelled and pointed. Tito turned around to see Rocky staring intently at him, her brow furrowed slightly. She quickly smiled as he turned around. 
Tito scooted on the bench so that he was closer to her. Suddenly, he forgot where he was and focused on her smile. “Fancy meeting you here, Mon Ami,” he greeted  her. 
“Beauregard…..” she spoke in an exaggerated drawl, “I’m not a hockey expert, but I do believe that you are supposed to stay OUT of the penalty box.”
“Raquelle…..” he began with a little more accent than necessary. Rocky felt her cheeks begin to flush. Tito stared at her face, “If I stayed OUT of the box, then we wouldn’t have this chance to chat. You know that chatting with you is my favorite thing in the world.” Rocky leaned forward and grinned. 
Somewhere in the TV control room, a producer proclaimed, “Are you guys seeing this?” The director looked up as the producer shared the camera view into the Islander penalty box onto the large screen. There, in the picture, were Tito and Rocky shamelessly flirting. Within seconds, the shot was on live TV with the Islanders TV announcers commenting on it. 
“Butch,” Brendan Burke chuckled, “It seems like we have a bit of an off-ice situation happening here.” 
Back in their bubble, Rocky joked, “I knew you were trouble when you walked in…”
Tito retorted, “It’s me. Hi, I’m the problem it’s me.”
“At tea time, everybody agrees,” she finished. 
Back in the control room, one of the female interns shouted out, “Holy shit, they are quoting Taylor Swift to each other.” 
The director yelled, “No fucking way!” He suddenly had visions of a viral moment. The information was relayed to the announcers. 
Tito moved on to another song, “Best believe I’m still bejeweled, When I walk in the room I can still make the whole place shimmer.” 
Rocky picked up, “And when I meet the band, They ask “Do you have a man?” I can still say, ‘I don’t remember’” 
Inside the control room, the announcer's booth and the entire Islanders liveblog tag on Tumblr, people watching were losing their collective minds. Comments flew back and forth- “Do you think he even knows that there is a game still going on? The moment was interrupted by the penalty box attendant who tapped Tito on the shoulder, “Fifteen seconds, dude.” 
Tito’s head spun around and he remembered where he was. He quickly gathered his equipment and stood by the door. He turned to Rocky and smiled. She started “I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you.” 
The door opened and Tito skated onto the ice. He glanced back and saw Kelly returning to his seat. He handed Rocky a bottle of water and she looked like she wanted to melt into the floor. The voice inside Tito's  head finished the lyric, “Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.” He felt the sharp pain in his abdomen like a punch to a gut. It pulled him out of dream-like state and back into the reality of the game. “Use this,” he said to himself, “Use the pain as motivation.” 
His eyes returned to the play and he saw his opening as he gained speed. He knocked Miro Heiskanen off the puck and took it onto his stick. He weaved his way through the two defensemen and circled the net. He passed the puck to Barzal who shot it at the net. Jake Oettinger coughed up a juicy rebound that landed on Tito’s stick. He lifted the puck up and over Oettinger’s shoulder into the net. It took a second for Tito to realize what had just happened. He was swarmed by his teammates as the arena erupted in cheers. 
He looked over to see Kelly pick Rocky into his arms and swing her around. He quickly turned to accept congratulatory pats on the head from his teammates. Rocky’s head spun while in Kelly’s arm to find Tito. When she found him on the bench, she swallowed hard. The focused expression on his face had returned and he stared directly in front of him. It was Rocky’s turn to feel the gnawing ache in her stomach. The period ended and she watched him walk to the tunnel without looking back. 
The Islander locker room buzzed with excitement of the new lead. Round of "Thatta boy, Beau, spread around the room. Tito didn't respond. Instead he replayed his time in the penalty box -the ease of talking to Rocky, the way she pulled him out of the game, the butterflies he felt when he looked into her eyes. He could have stayed lost in that moment for the rest of his life.
His thoughts were interrupted by Anders Lee's voice. "Sooooo who is the girl and can we buy her a beer?" he joked.
"Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you," ran through his head. The memory of her hug with Kelly flashed in his brain. Tito gritted his teeth and shook his head. "She's nobody- just the woman who did my tat," he spit out, 'She's nobody." With that, he got up to find the intern from earlier. Barzal watched in silence before getting up and following him. The rest of the team looked at each other in confusion. 
Barzal caught up as Tito finished his conversation. "Are you sure" the intern asked. Tito nodded his head.
"Sure about what?" Barzal questioned.
"Sure that I don't want her to come down after the game," Tito answered emphatically.
"Why?" Barzal questioned as they walked back to the room.
"Because I said so dumbass," Tito muttered as he put on his gear.
Upstairs,the intern made his way to Rocky's seats. Kelly looked confused when the intern gently explained, "Tito is not going to be able to see you after the game after all. There is a mandatory team meeting that he can't miss." 
Rocky blinked. She knew it was a lie but didn't want to argue or appear too eager to see Tito.. "Oh okay- well, tell him that I will see him around I guess.” She tried to hide the disappointment on her face, but Kelly knew her well enough to spot the fake smile. They rode in uncomfortable silence back to their apartment. 
Later in bed, they faced opposite walls with their backs to each other. “So that’s who you've been texting recently?” Kelly asked quietly. 
“Yeah,” she said softly, “He has been teaching me about hockey.”
"Clearly it worked. You were really focused on the game. I am glad you had a good time. You deserved it." Kelly yawned "Good night Rox. Love you."
"Ditto, Kels," she replied softly. Rocky's phone began to buzz. She picked it up.
Daisy: Girl…
Rocky: What?
Daisy: You're viral.
Rocky: What? How?
Daisy sent her the link to SportCenter and the segment about Tito's time in the penalty box. Rocky watched in a combination of sweet memory and horror. She thought back to what she felt in the moment. The feeling had been so pure and she struggled to name it. It finally dawned on her- joy. 
"What's the problem with joy?" She asked herself as the dread and horror spread around her body. It had been so long since she had experienced true joy. She couldn't remember when the last time was. One thing she knew that it wasn't with Kelly- the person who she should share joy with.
She looked back at Kelly with a wistful look. "I have to be better," she said to herself, "He deserves better." She rolled over and watched the clip again. The feeling of joy returned as she watched Tito's face and a thought popped into her head, "Don't you deserve better?" She pursed her lips and turned off her phone.
Barzal/Beauvillier condo- Long Island
"Fuck you, I would have made that shot,," Tito yelled out to no one in particular as the NHL22 game played. Barzal gave him a side eye and continued playing the video game.
After Tito added "motherfucker,"  Barzal paused the game. Tito protested meekly before Barzal cut him off, “What in the hell is your problem dude?”
“I don’t have a problem,” Tito countered. 
“Don’t lie to me Beau. It insults my intelligence,” Barzal challenged. Tito began a pithy response, but stopped when he saw his roommate’s expression. The concern was apparent and completely out of character for Barzal. “Does it have something to do with Rocky?” Barzal asked quietly. Tito leaned back and let out an exaggerated sigh. “I am going to take that as a yes,” Barzal continued, “Want to talk about it?”
“There is nothing to talk about. I misread her signals,” Tito spit out, “I thought there might be something there, but clearly I am wrong.” 
“I am not so sure about that dude,” Barzal sighed. The brunette turned and studied his roommate's face. He pondered his next words carefully.   "Look, I was going to wait and let you find out tomorrow, but there is something that you need to see." He pulled out his phone and started the video of Tito and Rocky from the penalty box.
Tito smiled involuntarily at Rocky as his finger went caress her face on the phone screen. He wanted to push the feeling down but it swept over him like a tidal wave. Barzal chuckled, "Dude, you have it bad. You are so into her."
"Too bad she isn't into me," Tito whined.
"Look, she may have a boyfriend, but she is into you," Barzal countered. Tito began to shake his head but Barzal interjected, "Look at her face when she looks at you. She desn't look at her boyfriend that way. I watched her during the game. Trust me there is something there, Beau. It wasn’t just during your penalty. Her eyes were on you the entire game.."
"So what should I do? She has a boyfriend," Tito asked.
"Be patient until she figures it out," Barzal suggested, “I don’t know much but I know that she doesn’t look at him the way she looks at you.”
"So business as usual?" Tito asked. Barzal nodded his head. "One Sec," Tito held up his hand. He reached for his phone and typed a quick text to Rocky,
Tito: Hey sorry we couldn't connect after the game, but it was great to see you. 
Rocky: I thought you were mad at me.
Tito: Never mon ami
Rocky: You sure?
Tito: 100% sure 
Rocky: You wouldn't lie to me, would you Beaugard?
Tito: Raquelle, you wound me 
Rocky: Sweet dreams. Great game by the way
Tito: Thanks- good night
Three days later-INKED ON ICE Tattoo Shop
Rocky tidied her work station and eyed the door.  She had received a terse text from Kelly during her last appointment that simply said "We need to talk. I am working at Starbucks. Let me know when you can chat.” She responded with an equally terse "It will be fifteen minutes as I finish up. It can't wait until tonight?"
"No- I don't want to have this conversation after midnight," was the response.
Precisely fifteen minutes later, Rocky looked up when she sensed his presence and their eyes locked. Her soft smile was met with pursed lips. "Hey," she said as she kissed his cheek before he settled into his seat. His hands held a to-go coffee cup that she was certain contained her order to perfection. "What's up?" she asked casually.
Kelly studied her next design before he sat down. His eyes looked at her askance. His mouth opened and shut several times. With each time, Rocky felt a knot in her stomach develop. "Rocky….." he began, "...... you know I love you. I have loved you since kindergarten when you walked up to me, the new kid, and announced that we were going to be best friends." Rocky smiled at the memory. He continued, "You were the girl, Rocky. You were the girl I was going to love forever. You were my past, you were my present, and you were going to be my future."
Rocky gulped, "Were?"
Kelly swallowed hard, "Yes, were. You have to know that we haven't been working for a while. We lead completely different lives with completely different goals. I don't think it's fixable, Rox. I don't think we can make it work now.
"Kelly, I love you. You know that. There is no one I love more than you," Rocky gasped. 
"I know, Rox. I love you too. You are my favorite person but somewhere along the way, we fell out of love with each other. It doesn't make you the bad guy and it doesn't make me the bad guy. We are just two best friends whose lives are on separate tracks," he spoke in a hushed tone. "I tried to ignore it but I can't anymore. I deserve to be in love and you deserve to be in love.” Rocky stared at the ground as his words sunk into her soul. Her head popped up when he said, “Honestly, I think you are in love."
Rocky stood up, "What are you talking about? There isn't anyone but you. You think I am cheating on you?"
"Tito," he stared into her eyes, "I saw it when I saw the video."
"We were just goofing off and being silly," she exclaimed.
“During a game? A game that he is passionate about?” Kelly countered, "And when was the last time we goofed off like that?" Kelly sighed, “I can’t ignore the evidence. I mean it went viral.” 
"I didn’t mean for it to go viral," she countered weakly, “We’re friends I swear. Nothing else. He just gets me. Kelly- he and I are just friends.”
"I believe that you think that," he stood up to walk to her, "I believe that you are doing everything in your power to honor your commitment to me. You are denying what your heart is telling you."
"And what do you think it's telling me?” she whispered.
"That you are not in love with me anymore and if I were out of the picture, you would fall in love with him," he reached for her hand. "Look, I could tell at the game. It's there and I would be a fool to try to deny it."
"I don't want to hurt you," she cried, "I don't want to break your heart."
Kelly intertwined his fingers into hers. "It would break my heart to settle for less than we deserve. You deserve to be in love. You deserve someone who wants the crazy lives you two lead." He stopped and inhaled, "And I deserve someone who wants the white picket fence, the PTA and the ordinary life I crave. I deserve someone in love with me." 
Tears streamed down Rocky's face, "I'm sorry."
Kelly wiped her tears with his thumbs, "Don't be. Don't be sorry for being you. I love you. I love you enough to set us free."
"I love you, Kelly," she leaned her forehead into his chest, "I'll always love you."
"I know, but now it's time to love each other from a distance," he kissed the top of her head, "One day we can be best friends again."
"I would like that," she looked up at him, "So we're over? We're really over?"
"Yeah," he smiled, "at least as lovers."
Out in the lobby, Tito held his finger up to his lips as he entered the shop to keep Daisy from announcing his arrival. In his hand, he held a large coffee and protein box. He turned the corner and stopped in his tracks. Kelly stood with his arms wrapped around Rocky’s back. Her face was nuzzled into his neck. Tito’s body lurched like he had been punched in the stomach. “I love you Rox,” Kelly smiled as he set her down and kissed the top of her head. He then turned around to walk past Tito. He glanced at Tito, who stood frozen, and smiled. Rocky watched the exchange in numb silence. Tito watched Kelly leave the shop and then turned his head to look at Rocky. She gave him a soft smile. Internally, Tito’s mind raced. He didn’t have an agenda when he decided to drop by and see Rocky, but he certainly didn’t expect to witness such a tender moment. “Snap out of it, Beauvillier,” he told himself, “You got the wrong idea. She has a boyfriend- one that she loves even if you can't make it make sense to your brain.” 
“Hey Beauregard,” she stepped toward, “To what do I owe this surprise?” She fought to keep the tears out of her eyes and her voice smooth and steady. They exchanged a look and Rocky watched as Tito’s expression hardened before her. 
“I, uhhhhh, was in the neighborhood, “ he began. He couldn’t think of a singular good reason why he would be here that didn’t involve a fervent desire to kiss her. So like all good men when forced to face an uncomfortable emotion, he lied. “I wanted to be sure that you were still eating,” he stammered, “You need to eat so you can keep doing good tattoos. I vouched for you and uhhhhhh, I don’t want anyone who listened to me to be disappointed by a sucky tattoo because your blood sugar level dropped.” 
He thrust the coffee and food into her hands. Before she could protest, he was half-way to an escape. “Thanks for the coffee, Beauregard,” she called out to him. She could see his body flinch but he kept moving. Rocky watched in despair as he made his retreat. 
What had happened? After their post-game chat, Tito had been reserved but still friendly. Now he was running away because of why she did not know.  Rocky replayed Kelly’s words in her brain. “If I were out of the picture, you would fall in love with him,” he had said. She sighed bitterly and added, “Yeah, but Kels, clearly he will not fall in love with me.”
 She turned to walk back into her section and looked around. She had two consultations and three appointments scheduled. She went to her table and sat down. She started the music but quickly turned it off when the starting notes of “Lover” began. Impulsively, she picked up her sketchbook and threw it across the room. Loose papers and notes tucked into it scattered on the floor. “Whoa,” JD whistled as he entered her section, “What happened here?” 
Rocky got down on her hands and knees to gather the papers to her chest. She placed her hand on a blank piece of paper and flipped it over. It was Tito’s tattoo design. Tears filled her eyes and she sat back on her heels. JD looked at the paper and then back at Rocky. Her face dissolved into tears. “Rocky?” he questioned, “What happened?” 
"Kelly broke up with me," she cried.
"What? Why?" JD resigned himself to getting down on the floor and sat next to her.
Rocky wiped her nose with her arm. "He wants sunshine and I am midnight rain," she explained to JD as if he would understand. The words brought Tito to her mind and she started sobbing again. "Beauregard would understand," she thought to herself. 
JD sat patiently and waited for a break in the sobs. He had not been sure when Rocky had shown up at the shop, boldly asking for an apprenticeship. He found himself unable to say no despite the fact that had never mentored anyone before her, something he had taken great pride in. However in the almost year later, they had formed a unique friendship despite their age difference. 
"I am going to assume that was some sort of Taylor Swift reference," he said drolly, "Care to explain it to the non-Swiftie?"
"He was this whole corporate life with the house in the suburbs and PTA wife," she sighed. "I was going to try to make it work," she continued, "but things changed and he didn't want to try anymore." 
"You mean he didn't want to try to force a relationship with a woman clearly in love with another man?" he asked gently. Her jaw dropped and she started to protest. "I saw Beauvillier leave," he added.
"Yeah, you saw him leave. He couldn't get out of here fast enough," she cried, "Clearly he isn't interested."
"I think the evidence points to the contrary," JD countered, "but his loss if that's true." They sat in silence for a few minutes. "You know, I think you are ready to end the apprenticeship."
Her head shot up, "Getting dumped twice in one day. That has to be a record."
"I am not DUMPING you. I am telling you that you have freedom to choose your next path," he explained. "You are ready, Rocky," he nudged her shoulder.
"You think I am ready to go solo, really?" Rocky asked in earnest, "What if I fail?"
"I have a feeling that you are going to fly," he leaned over and kissed the top of her head.
"What should I do about Tito?" She asked.
"I think that you shouldn't go from one man to another. If you are going to go solo, then go solo," JD spoke, "but potentially? Yeah, I saw you on Sportscenter and ship it. That's the right word, right?"
"You're learning, old man," Rocky joked.
 Daisy poked her head in the room, "Ummmm, I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I overheard about Kelly." Rocky looked up at her. "I canceled the rest of your day and tomorrow," Daisy added, "Pack up your stuff. I am taking you home and we're having a meeting of the 'Boys are stupid and they suck' committee. No arguments, Rocky. We are going to laugh and we are going to cry until you don't need to anymore." Rocky's eyes filled with tears. "See, you've already started." 
Hours later, Rocky stood in the guest bathroom of Cameron and Daisy's large home. She looked at her face. Her eyes were puffy from tears but she felt a wave of peace wash over her body. Daisy and she had discussed her future and what she wanted. As much as she felt a pull toward Tito, she could not shake the feeling that she needed time. JD was right. She couldn't jump from one man to another man. Rocky had spent her entire adult life committed to Kelly. It was time to spread her wings and fly. She felt confident that even if she crashed and burned that she was strong enough to make it on her own. 
She took a deep breath and picked up her phone. She noticed two things- no communication from Tito and a text from Kelly. She opened the text and smiled, "Rox, I miss you already but know that our destiny lies as best friends. I will be here waiting to see where your destiny takes you. You are capable of greatness. I'll love you forever."
She typed out her response to Kelly. Then she hit the dial button.
"Hey Rocky,” the voice on the other end answered.
"Is that job offer still good?" Rocky asked. 
"Yes, are you considering it?" The voice asked.
"If you still want me," Rocky responded.
"Pack your bags. I have a guest house you can use until you get settled. Can you be here in a week?" Cat smiled.
"See you then," Rocky smiled.
STATE OF GRACE
A WEEK LATER- ISLANDERS PRACTICE FACILITY
"Hey Tito," Kelly called to him as he exited the ice after practice.
Tito stopped and stared, "What the fuck does he want?" He thought to himself. 
Kelly held out a cardboard tube and Tito, "It's from Rocky."
"A delivery? From Rocky?" He called back, "Why didn't she deliver it herself?"
"I think you know why," Kelly replied dryly. Tito thought about the multiple texts and calls from her that he had ignored. "Just read the card," Kelly added before he turned to walk away.
Tito ripped the card open and read it quickly. 
Beauregard-
I hope this note finds you well. This is not the way I wanted to tell you but I am moving.
Tito's eyes snapped up, "You two are moving?"
"No, just her," Kelly explained. Tito tilted his head in question. "We broke up last week. In fact, the day I saw you at the shop, " Kelly added.
Tito thought back to the day. He had been so quick to jump to the wrong conclusion. "You idiot," he told himself, "You fucking idiot." He continued to read.
I tried texting and calling several times, but those have not been returned. I have decided to make a fresh start in a new city. All of my adult life has been bending myself and sacrificing my dream to allow Kelly to pursue his dream. I am going to some place brand new and testing my wings to see if I can fly on my own.
Tito smiled to himself, "Oh mon ami, Raquelle, you can fly. Oh how high you will fly."
I am sad to leave you and our friendship. I didn't want to leave without saying two things. First, I am thankful that fate brought us together as friends. Your friendship reminded me who I am, the part of me that I had hidden away to fit into the mold of what Kelly wanted and needed. I am Midnight Rain and that's okay. Thank you for accepting me and all my quirks. Not only did you accept them- you embraced them which helped me embrace them too. 
Second- I am thankful for the joy that you brought back to me. It had been so long since I felt the joy that I felt with you. I love you, Beauregard. I don't believe that our journey is over. In fact I think that you are just at the beginning of a wonderful life full of adventure and more importantly, love. You will bring so much joy  to the life of the woman who you love and she will be so lucky. So long for now. In the words of our Queen Taylor- "And when you find everything you looked for, I hope your life leads you back to my door. Goodbye, Mon Ami." 
He pulled out the sketch of his tattoo out of the cardboard tube. She had written- "Never forget the joy of hockey. Keep it in your heart forever just like I will keep the joy of you in my heart forever." 
"Goodbye Mon Amour," Tito whispered as he placed the drawing back into the cardboard tube, "No, not goodbye-see ya later."
THREE MONTHS LATER- BEAN AROUND THE WORLD COFFEE SHOP-VANCOUVER
The coffee shop was crowded with the morning rush. The barista greeted Rocky with a smile. In the three months since she had moved to  Vancouver, she had become a regular so there was no need to give her order.
"So what's your day look like?" Lauren, the barista from England, asked cheerfully. 
"I have an easy day today. Only two appointments and a consultation," Rocky answered with a grin.
"Ahhhh," Lauren winked as she rolled her sleeve so her new tattoo was prominently on display, "I'll advertise for walk-ins." Since getting inked by Rocky, Lauren had fed a steady stream or referrals over to the tattoo shop. The large black and gray realistic wolf was a showstopper and customers complimented her on it daily. 
"Keep that up and I'll have to give you a discount on that sleeve we discussed," Rocky quipped.
"Don't tempt me," the Brit joked. Rocky moved down to the pick up counter to wait for her drink. She faced away from the crowd and studied her phone.
Further down the line, Elias Pettersson stood with his new linemate. They had just completed a practice and workout. "So you are set in your airBNB?" The Swedish superstar asked, “No issues?”
Tito looked up as they moved up to the counter, "Yeah, I'm all set." Tito had been traded to Vancouver earlier in the week in a trade that the hockey media dubbed "The Bo for Beau exchange".  His first game was the next night, "I really like the area. It's got a cool vibe." Canucks players segregated themselves - the married players sought the comforts of the suburbs while the single guys stayed close to the active nightlife by the arena.
"What can I get you, Petey?" Lauren asked the Swede. After he gave his simple order, she turned to Tito, "and you?"
Tito rattled off his order, "Unsweet iced coffee with an extra shot with skim milk, 2 pumps of sugar free vanilla syrup, 2 Splenda and light caramel drizzle."
Lauren looked up in disbelief. What were the odds that TWO people would have that same, very specific coffee order? "Can you repeat that?" she asked. Just then the other barista that made the coffees called, "Order for Rocky." 
Tito shook his head in disbelief. Surely he had misheard. They hadn't said Rocky and if they did, it couldn't be HIS Rocky. He turned to see the petite pixie walking toward the door. Her hair was now a pastel pink but there was no mistaking that it was indeed HIS Rocky. He immediately chastised himself, "You have no claim on her, especially with the way she had left." Undeterred, he started weaving his way through the crowded shop while his mind raced. She was here in Vancouver. He was here in Vancouver. His path was blocked at every step. He stopped and yelled "Raquelle!"
She stopped and turned. It sounded like Tito but it made no sense. Why would he be in Vancouver? "No," she told herself as searched the sea of faces unsuccessfully, "You're imagining things." She turned back around and headed down the crowded street. 
Tito felt the air leave his lungs when she turned at the sound of his voice. She was here. It felt like a dream so he gave chase. Petersson  called after him, "Beau!!" The call landed on deaf ears as Tito made it out to the street.
Fifteen minutes later, a dejected Tito entered the coffee shop. He found Petey sitting at a small table with a bemused smile on his face. "Where did you take off to?" The platinum blonde asked as he handed Tito his coffee.  
"A girl," Tito spoke breathlessly,  "A girl I knew from Long Island."
"Let me guess. Her name is Rocky?" The Swede said although he had pieced together some info.
Tito took the coffee and sat down, “Yeah. I can’t believe she is here. What are the odds that we would be here at the same time?” 
“So this girl- is she an ex or something?” Petersson.
Tito paused before answering, “It’s complicated.”
Petersson raised a single eyebrow, “Men and women are not that complicated unless you make it complicated.”
“She’s the one that got away,” Tito sighed.
“So go after her,” the Swede replied. 
“You saw me try. She vanished. I searched, but if I didn’t know better, I would think she was a figment of my imagination. 
Now that the rush had subsided, Lauren walked through the shop- straightening tables and greeting customers. “Who is a figment of your imagination?” the beautiful brunette asked with a smile. 
Petersson answered, “The elusive Rocky who apparently is the owner of Beau’s heart.”
“You know Rocky?” she replied in her delightful accent, “it makes sense now.”
“Wait, what makes sense?” Tito questioned. 
“It makes sense you know each other. You have the same coffee order,” Lauren pondered, “You are the only two people with that order.”
“You KNOW Rocky?” Tito practically jumped out of his seat, “So she is a regular here? She LIVES here in Vancouver?”
“She moved here a few months back. She’s been a regular since starting at the tattoo shop- Pink Ink,” she answered, “She did my wolf.” She held out her arm for Tito to examine. 
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Tito looked down and studied the tattoo. It was Rocky’s work all right. There was no mistaking her technique. He could tell immediately it was her design and work.  He head spun with this newfound information. Electricity ran through his body. Rocky- his Raquelle- was here. She was so close he could feel her pull him to her like a magnet pulling a piece of metal.
 Lauren studied him quietly but the realization hit her. “Wait a minute! You’re the guy from that video. The hockey one with the penalty box. Bloody hell, that’s you?….. And she’s the gal, right?” she exclaimed.  Tito smiled and nodded his head yes. 
“But that doesn’t mean anything now,” Tito said, suddenly filled with apprehension. They hadn’t ended on good terms. Well, more specifically he had acted like an idiot. What if she had moved on already? What if she had sworn off men altogether? Did he still have a chance?
When Tito looked up, she saw the questions in his eyes. “She said she had unfinished business in Long Island with a guy. I didn’t recognize her with the new hair. By the looks of it, her unfinished business must be you.” Tito’s jaw dropped when she continued, “Don’t just stand there. This is True Love. You think this happens every day?”
“Princess Bride!” Petersson exclaimed- proud that he caught the pop culture reference. Tito glared at him. “What? I am a man of many layers,” the Swede continued. 
“Where is that shop?” Tito interrupted as he stood up and started walking towards the door. “What’s the name of it?” He heard her answer, Pink Ink, and Googled as he walked. He smiled when he realized how close the shop was and hit the call button on his phone. 
Rocky puttered around her station, getting ready for the day. She overheard Emily, the receptionist, answer the phone. “Pink Ink where we specialize in sarcasm, good tattoos and fighting the patriarchy. How can I help you?”
“Hi….uhhhh,” Tito stammered, “I’d like to get a tattoo. I have heard good things about a Rocky?” 
“Oh yeah, Rocky? She’s one of the best,” Emily answered, “When did you want to come in??” Rocky stopped in her tracks to listen to the conversation. 
“Now?” Tito hesitated. 
“Sure, I’ll let her know that she has someone coming in,” the receptionist responded. “Can I get a name? Okay, great- see you soon.” Emily got up and walked to Rocky’s room. “Hey you have basically a last minute tattoo.” Rocky nodded her head in understanding as she finished lighting her candles and started her playlist. “Yeah, some guy named Beauregard,” Emily called as she headed back to the front. 
Rocky spun around and walked out to the hallway, “I’m sorry. What did you say the name was….” Her head turned as the front door chimed and the door opened. “Did you say Beauregard?” Rocky questioned. Tito walked in and Rocky’s jaw dropped. 
“Raquelle!” he exclaimed as he walked in, “Fancy meeting you here.” 
Rocky stood frozen in disbelief. She willed her mouth to say something. She willed her body to move. “Do something!” her mind screamed, “Do something.” She watched him walk towards in what felt like slow motion. Suddenly the message hit the message center of the neurons that controlled her body and her body launched into motion. She sprinted to him and threw herself into his waiting arms. 
“Beauregard,” she cried out, “What are you doing here?”’ Her brain raced for answers. “Do you have a game here? How did you find me?” she quizzed, “I don’t care. I don’t care. You’re here.”
“Well, you did say you hope my life leads me back to your door. So here I am,” he laughed as he swung her around. When he stopped to keep from getting dizzy, they stared at each other. Breathless, they stayed glued to each other- their lips nearly touching. 
Rocky’s eyes scanned his face. His bright blue eyes sparkled as she searched for any clue as to his thoughts or feelings. Internally, she questioned “What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if he is just glad to see his friend?” The doubtful thought was immediately met with the equally loud thought, “Take the chance, Rocky- take the chance.” She brought lips to his lips in a tentative kiss. The electricity jolted through their bodies and together, they deepened the kiss. 
“Mon Amour,” he moaned, “Raquelle, mon amour.” They kissed in the hallway, oblivious to their surroundings. 
Finally, Rocky broke the kiss and he set her down gently. She took his hand to guide him to her room. When they stepped inside, she turned to him and asked, “Wait, did you say Mon Amour?”
“Yes, I did,” he pulled her to him, “Rocky, I love you. I have loved you from the moment you shot me down and told me that you saw a whole world hidden behind my eyes.”
“But I live here now, Beauregard,” she protested. 
“So do I,” he kissed her, “So do I.”
“Wait, what?” she questioned, “You live here? In Vancouver?”
“Oui, I was traded earlier this week. Life literally brought me to your door, or coffee shop, to be exact.” he answered. When she looked confused, he told her the story about their almost meeting at the coffee shop. 
It was Rocky’s turn to kiss him, “Remind me that I owe Lauren that sleeve.”
“I owe her everything,” he smiled.
“Did you really want a tattoo or was that a ploy?” she smiled as she studied his face. 
“I definitely want a tattoo,” he laughed. 
“Oh?” she took a step back. 
He pulled up his shirt and pointed to his chest. “I am thinking of getting Raquelle right above my heart in a fancy script. Think you can do that?”
“I mean it’s the kiss of death for relationships. How long have you been with this Raquelle?” she mocked. 
“For about sixty seconds, but I have a good feeling about her,” he teased. 
“Maybe you should at least wait until after your first date,” she poked his chest before inhaling sharply as she caught sight of his abs. 
“That’s a good idea. I have an idea for the perfect first date,” he quipped as they fell into the easy rhythm of their banter. 
“What’s that?” she quipped back. 
“Have you ever heard of Taylor Swift?” he laughed, “She has a concert this summer near here. You might like her.”
Rocky laughed, “You are going to make me wait until July for our first date? So rude.”
“Fine,” he kissed her before he continued, “How about hockey? I know a guy who can get you into the Canucks game tonight.”
“Perfect first date,” she returned his kiss. Suddenly the words of JD rang in her head- Don’t jump from one man to another. Rocky pushed off of his chest and took several steps back. 
“Raquelle?” he questioned, “Did something happen?”
Rocky studied him for a moment, trying to verbalize her thoughts. "Beauregard, I like my life. I have a good job. I have good friends. I worked hard to create a life that makes me happy, and I am absolutely not changing it to fit into yours no matter how much I adore you."
"Raquelle, I don't want you to change anything for me. You're perfect exactly the way you are. Don't change a thing."
"I mean it Beau. I am not giving up my passion for you,"  she says as he inched toward her.
"I would be disappointed if you did," he said and took another step.
"You're really here in Vancouver?" she said, “Like for real?”
"Yes, I am," he said. 
“And you want to be with me?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, I do. I want it more than anything I have ever wanted before,” he continued. He placed his hand on her cheek as she smiled, "It looks like all along there was some invisible string tying you to me."
"You think quoting her majesty Queen Taylor will help your case?" she whispered as he stood inches from her mouth.
"I would call on the hockey gods if I thought it would help me," he smiled.
"Shut up and kiss me," she started to quip back. 
"Yes, Raquelle, yes Mon Amour" he cooed before he kissed her.
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cellythefloshie · 1 year
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;; Last Christmas Dedicated to @antoineroussel  for her winter fic exchange 2k23
Summary: Act 1. Home for the holidays, Charlotte isn’t looking forward to her parent’s annual Christmas party. That is until it provides the opportunity to reconnect with her childhood friend, and AHL player, Adam Lowry.  Act. 2. Charlotte avoid going home for the holidays to avoid the reminder of last Christmas and the heartache that followed only to cross paths with Adam who is now in his Rookie season with the Winnipeg Jets. Charlotte and Adam are forced to face the reality that their friendship may be something that needs to be left in the past.  Kinks & TW: Angst, holiday themed, original character, situation ship, friends-to-lovers, drinking/alcohol, heart break, size kink, teasing/banter, riding, breast play (mild), missionary, protected sex, (i probably missed something here so please be sure to yell at me if I did) ABOUT THE OC: Face Claim: Crystal Reed. Name: Charlotte aka “Charlie” aka “Mini”. Charlotte and Adam are written as childhood best friends. Act 1: Charlie is a University student and Adam is playing with the St. John’s IceCaps who were the WPG Jet’s AHL Affiliate from 2011-2015. Act 2: Adam is playing in the NHL with the WPG Jets.  Word Count: 10011 A/N: Thank you so much for reaching out and inviting me to participate in the exchange! It was an absolute pleasure to be able to write this for you! It was so much fun being able to write an OC again after writing reader inserts since April, and I got to indulge in writing both Adam and Angst. It got me right in the soul. I WAS going to fade to black with this piece (almost 5k words ago), but I have 0 self control... AND I hope you don’t mind that it’s holiday themed because I’ve had this plotted since we first talked about it, but I didn’t get it written until much later than I expected...
Listen to their playlist while you read. Last Christmas now has a sequel series! Read more of Adam and Charlotte in Just Me & You. 
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​Act 1. 
“-Charlotte, honey!” 
It was the sickeningly sweet voice of her mother that greeted Charlie as she had done her best to sneak in through the back door. She had obviously failed. She should have known better, really, there was no way that she was going to be able to get away with going unseen when her parents were entertaining their family and close friends for the annual Christmas Party - not when her mother was always keen on showing her off. 
But Charlie had made other plans for the evening. She had intended to avoid the gaudy decore and the seasonal music that was too loud for Charlie to study comfortably. While her mother had tried to encourage her to put the books down, if only for a night, Charlie had managed to sneak out to a local coffee shop under the pretense of studying for the exams that would rapidly approach once she got back to school after the break - and so she hid at that small coffee shop down the road until the hours grew late and the open sign was flipped to closed. 
Warm eyes shut as Charlie turned in place, her head leaning against the door as she shut it to hide the sigh from her mother that hovered at the kitchen island with a glass of wine, and her friends as they gossips. She had hoped that it would have quieted down before she got home. Yet, the party raged on as if it were a frat party back on campus. Forcing a smile, she turned to face her mother and her guests, as her hand raised to draw her bright red scarf from around her neck. Dark hair dusted with freshly fallen snow fell in loose curls down her back as it was freed from where it was tangled in the warmth of her outerwear that was cast aside on a near stool. 
“Hi mom,” her smile was so forced it almost hurt as she looked at each of her mother’s friends awkwardly, “you ladies look like you’re having fun. I would really hate to ruin it-” She spoke causally as she reached for a festive paper plate, her fingers then finding the assortment of finger food that sat out on the counter, “I’m just going to head upstairs-”
Charlie was drowned out by an assortment of coos. All gawking about how grown up she had become in the few short years she had spent away at college focused on her studies, and how she wasn’t the little girl they all so fondly remembered. It left her grumbling as she pushed her way from the kitchen, keeping her head down as she moved for the stairs. Just a few more strides and she would be free, but her mom had other plans as her familiar touch came down on her shoulders to keep her daughter from wandering too far. 
“Ah, Ah, Charlotte,” she tutted her and suddenly Charlotte felt like a child again, “I think there is someone you’re going to be excited to see.”
Charlie had to bite her tongue to hold back a scoff, but there was no hiding how her large doe-eyes rolled as she thought to herself: Oh yeah, I bet there is. And so she followed her mother’s guidance, her expression no short of annoyed as she was forced to walk through crowds of her parent’s friends and over to her father who was entertaining his friends with one of his wild work stories - a story Charlie had already heard many times before, and she was sure everyone else had as well. 
Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar face that was meant to excite her beyond the desire to hide back in her room. It was there, seated in her father’s favourite armchair, his face half hidden behind a glass of amber liquor she spotted him. Full lips split, bearing a far-from-fake grin as she reached down to abandon her plate on the near coffee table. After that, there was no stopping her. Adam’s bright eyes that had contrasted her so effortlessly had found her face and he was standing up from the seat to meet her halfway. 
“Dad’s just letting you sit in his chair now, huh, hot shot?” Charlie greeted him playfully, her arms winding around his middle with ease without a thought and it was only as his arms wrapped around her that she realized just how much he had changed since he had left Calgary. Charlie could feel every muscle beneath his white t-shirt and he had easily grown another inch or two since his draft day three years ago. Her fingers moved cautiously over the expanse of his back as she pulled back just enough to look up at him as he returned the stare down at her. 
“Your dad and I, we did make that bet,” Adam half smirked, earning a shake of her head as she left out a laugh. It had been the best seat in the house, leather and perfectly worn in and it reclined. It was one that Adam had sought after for years as a child, so as it had approached his draft, Adam had bet that if he had gone in the top 100 players, whenever he had come back to visit he would get to sit in the chair. Adam had been drafted 67th overall that year, but he had never returned to her childhood home, until now. 
“I didn’t think he’d hold to it,” Charlie countered, casting a glance toward her father before looking back up at Adam, “what are you doing here, anyway? I haven’t seen you since Minnesota.”
“Surprised Mom and Dad for the holidays,” Adam smiled, his hands continuing to linger on the curves of her waist - his thumbs stroking over it slowly and she watched as there was a flicker of confusion in his eyes. He didn’t remember her body feeling like that - hell, they were practically still kids when he had been drafted to the WHL and had only seen each other briefly during his draft in Minnesota. While their history would always remain, they were far from the kids they once were, not they were practically strangers now. “And they would never cancel on your mom, so I wasn’t about to pass up on seeing my best friend.” 
His words made her skin tingle. Did he have the right to call her that still? After so many years of nothing more than sparse text messages and the occasional goofy Snapchat picture? Their different lives had divided them, but maybe now was their chance to really reconnect. 
“You’ve been here all night?” Charlie quirked a brow, taking a step back when she noticed her father cock his head to the side as he had begun to raise a brow of his own. 
She and Adam had always been close - their mother’s bathed them together, and she called her mom Auntie until she was 10 and knew better kind of close - but Charlie wasn’t a little girl any longer and her father knew that - her father also knew that Adam wasn’t the little boy that used to follow her around like a lost puppy anymore. He was a grown man now-
“Since your mom started making dinner,” Adam sighed, his hand reaching up to card through his shaggy brown hair as he cast a glance out the window and to the snow that fell outside, “they sure know how to throw a hell of a party.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing compared to the trouble you get into now,” Charlie teased, taking careful strides, and Adam fell in step behind as she moved to the makeshift bar. 
“Me, get into trouble? Never,” Adam was beaming as he leaned back against the wall. 
Charlie shook her head slowly as she mixed herself a drink, her pour a little heavy on the alcohol - but she had to make up for the lost time. Adam was surely multiple drinks deep after spending the evening with her parents, though he hid it well or had developed a very strong tolerance since they had last broken into her father’s liquor cabinet at fourteen. 
“That’s only because you’re always able to talk your way out of it,” Charlie reminded, taking the first slow sip of her drink that burned its way down her throat, “or have you been hit so many times that you’ve lost your silver tongue?”
“Nah, I still got it,” Adam assured. 
“Good, because I don’t think I can handle listening to All I Want For Christmas is You again,” Charlie half groaned, her hand reaching out to take one of Adam’s carefully. 
She didn’t dare look back as she lead him through the living room and to the stairs that would take them up to the second story, and up to her bedroom. Adam didn’t stop her, his steps careful and quiet as he followed up behind her, his voice dropping to a low whisper as he whispered to her, “you really want your father to kill me, huh?”
She could feel his hot breath on her neck as he spoke, and it felt like his laugh was sending vibrations right through her body as they came to her bedroom door. It was just as she had left it when she had moved to campus at seventeen. From her small collection of stuffed animals sitting in her favorite reading chair to the pictures that framed her vanity mirror, her parents hadn’t moved a single thing out of place. Charlie stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, her hand gripping the flimsy plastic cup almost desperately. This wasn’t the first time she had Adam in her room, but they had been just kids back then - the click of the door closing had her stomach jumping into her throat - and they had always had a strict open-door policy thanks to her dad. 
“Oh, you’re really wanting dad to kill you now,” Charlie teased him as she turned in place, finding his smile and following his eyes to the pictures on her vanity. They were an assortment of photos from when she was young, and many were with him. There were pictures of when they were babies, to the days they spent at summer camp together, and their most recent photo was framed and sat at the very corner of her vanity. It had been the morning of his draft, their families had gotten breakfast together and he was in the ill-fitted suit of his - prepared for the off chance that he may have been drafted in the first round. 
Adam didn’t reply to Charlie’s banter, and instead shot a smile back at her, his tone soft as he spoke to her, “lots of good memories here.”
“Yeah,” she agreed gently, stepping forward to join him at his side, “we used to do everything together-”
“Do you ever miss it?”
“Miss being kids or us?”
Us. The word left an odd taste in Charlie’s mouth, one that she tried to wash out with the strong alcohol in her drink. They had never really been an Us, had they? Sure, they had been inseparable for most of their childhood, Charlie & Adam, but that was their friendship. He had dated girls she had never approved of, and she dated guys Adam would inevitably scare off. Hell, they hadn’t don’t anything to suggest that there was a chance that they would have ever shared anything more than the friendship they had forged. She hadn’t wanted to kiss him… not until now as he stood so close to her in her room, wearing that smile she had almost forgotten and very much a man now. 
“I could always count on you being there back then,” Adam sighed and Charlie's mouth went dry, “every tournament, every game. Hell, we almost had your mom convinced to move you out to Swift Current, you remember?”
“How could I forget?” She shook her head as she remembered the nonsense she had tried to feed her mother and the dramatic lengths the pair had gone to before it was made clear that it was far from a reality for them. “Still convinced them to drive me out to see you almost every weekend - but they got you all the way across the country now, don’t they hot shot?”
Reaching her hand out, Charlie shoved against Adam’s arm, a playful habit that returned all too quickly as did the comfort of being around him. 
“Oh, you’re already going to start back up with that shit, huh, Mini?” Adam laughed, a large hand reaching out to abandon his glass on the vanity. 
Hearing her old nickname slip from his lips so effortlessly left her mouth dry. No one called her that anymore - not since she hit her growth spurt - but Adam, he would forever tower taller than her. Charlie licked her lips slowly before taking another long sip of her drink before she set it down beside Adam’s. Her hands then found his chest, so strong beneath her touch, in a playful shove. One that Adam met with his own, earning a laugh from Charlie as she took one stumbled step back. It wasn’t enough to send her into a retreat. Instead, she had leaned in for another playful shove, but she wasn’t met by Adam’s playful roughhousing. No, Adam wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her up with ease. 
When they were kids, she would have left out a laugh, or a groan of protest, but not, Charlie was reduced to silence. Her bedroom went blurry around her, and she could only see Adam and the grin on his face as he took careful strides toward her bed. She could feel each flex of his muscles as he held her so effortlessly, and there was no ignoring how naturally her legs had wrapped around his hips - and how his belt buckle grazed roughly over her jeans. The strength of his arms remained as they reached the bed, as  Adam didn’t release her to free fall down onto the mattress, instead, he was falling with her but she was left breathless all the same. 
Charlie did her best to hide the heave of her chest as she lay out on the bed, her dark hair fanned out beneath her and her sweater left wrinkled and bunched up her waist bearing just enough skin on her stomach to draw in Adam’s curious touch. She could feel his thumb drag over her exposed skin, his touch hesitant as if he shouldn’t be touching her there at all. Together they lay out on the bed in silence, Adam’s body hovering slightly over her own. Charlie could feel the heat of his body against her own and taste his breath with each inhale. It was an intoxicating combination. One that left her reaching down to her mattress and gripping at the covers in restraint. 
“Adam,” his name escaped her lips in a quivering breath, her warm eyes dragging over the softened features of his face. His jaw had slacked, and his thin lips parted as they were consumed by each of his steady breaths. Her gaze dragged over the angles of his jaw and up and over his cheekbones that had only seemed to sharpen as his youth left him. And his eyes were piercing as Charlie found them. His brazen stare was only obstructed by the shagged strands of his hair that hung down over his forehead and the intensity that consumed the blue of his eyes was unlike she had ever seen in him before - or maybe she just hadn’t been looking. 
Their gaze was locked, but it didn’t distract her from how his hand had left the skin of her stomach and dragged upward. Up and over the swell of her breast - that threatened to heave at just the slightest graze of his fingers tips. Those same fingertips danced over her collarbone - her neck stretching out almost instinctively, a heavy breath consuming Charlie as if to prepare for his fist to wrap around her throat - but his touch persisted. His touch didn’t stop until it had stroked over the angle of her jaw, and his thumb had found her quivering lower lip. 
“I’ve missed you, Charlie,” Adam sounded, his words a low groan as his thumb stroked her lip, leaving it almost numb, “fuck, you’re so…” Charlie watched as he licked his lips, trying to find the right word to say - and she didn’t care what he had to say. Not really - how could she when all she could think about was what his tongue would taste in her mouth? “...Beautiful.”
The word stung, just like the slap sixteen-year-old Charlie would have given him if she had even thought he was thinking something like that. But now, Charlie was very much consumed by his touch and his words held left her melting. 
“Adam, you shut your mouth before you say something stupid…” Charlie cautioned him slowly, his own voice weak as her lips dragged over the pad of his thumb. The graze left her shutter, her eyes shutting as she tried to force herself to ignore just how good it felt to feel his flesh in places he had never explored before. 
“Stupid? No,” Adam answered, and Charlie felt the bed shift oh so slightly. He was leaning in, his hot breath washing over her face now as his thumb tugged at the lower lobe of her lip, “I should have been telling you that a long time ago-”
Charlie scoffed, her eyes remaining closed as she parted her lips to speak again - too nervous to open them and see just how close to her he had become. If she had seen him so close, she wouldn’t be able to control herself. “Adam, how many drinks have you had?”
“You think I’m drunk?” his voice was laced with a laugh, one that left her own lips curling up into a grin. 
“Can you blame me?” It was only then that Charlie let her eyes blink open and she took in the sight of him. 
Adam was a mere breath away from her lips, his hair tickling her forehead as his eyes fell into slow, dreamy blinks. “Charlotte,” she hated when people called her by her full name, but in the moment, he had made it feel so intimate, “I really want to kiss you.”
“What’s stopping you?” Charlie muttered, her lungs holding onto her breath as if he was going to steal it from her. 
“I’m only slightly worried that you may hit me if I tried,” his smile grew, and her own came to mirror his. 
“I’m not going to hit you, Ad-”
Before she could finish, he had stolen the last bit of air between them, his thumb leaving her lips to clear the way for his own lips.  His mouth met hers gently, cautiously, as if she may change her mind at any moment and raise a hand up to give him a good smack. Once upon a time, she would have. She would have pulled back with a gasp and her palm would have met his cheek with a sting because he was her best friend and she wasn’t going to risk that at sixteen. But now, her head was spinning, her body consumed by the mix of emotions that came with seeing him for the first time in three years. Excitement met longing and mixed with melancholy and it left her head spinning as his lips moved effortlessly against her own. Each motion drew her mouth open, adding depth and hunger to the first kiss they had shared. 
She reveled in the taste of sweet bourbon from his tongue as it met her own in a slow graze and it had brought such comfort that her hands eased from their rigid grasp on the covers. Her touch found the expanse of his back, her fingers wrinkling the thin-white fabric of his t-shirt as she left herself to feel his strength. It drew him in closer, Adam shifting in the slightest to hover fully over her form - never once breaking their kiss - and she could feel all of him. Her head was spinning, her thoughts gone as she was consumed by Adam and only Adam. 
Charlie was left groaning against his lips, her hands clutching him desperately, and her knees resting on each side of his hips as she lost all composure. She was pushing up from the bed, Adam giving her just enough room to seek out the hem of her knit sweater and he helped her draw it from her frame. It was then their lips were pulled from one another, both of them left gasping and eyes opening to meet in a desirous gaze. Adam stared at her, and Charlie stared back the only sound shared between them, desperate, panting gasps. If they continued, there would be no going back to how things were before, and they both knew it. But it didn’t stop them. 
Adam’s hands dropped her cable-knit sweater down on the bed, his eyes never once leaving hers before he reached back and took hold of the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He pulled it off in one swift movement, bearing the muscles of his toned chest and strong abs to her as he knelt between her thighs. 
Charlie let out an uneven sigh. She had seen him shirtless before, probably more times than she could count, but he had never looked like that. “Jesus, Adam,” she couldn’t contain herself, her hand reaching out to stroke down his chest without a single thought to how he was seeing her breasts in something other than a restrictive sports bra for the first time since puberty had finally decided to be kind. “What are they feeding you out there?”
Adam let out a low throaty chuckle as he arched over, placing his hand palm down on the mattress trapping Charlie beneath him against the bed. She watched as muscle she didn’t even know could exist flexed in his shoulder. Licking her lips, Charlie was near salivating at the sight of him as she pushed up onto her elbows to close the short distance between them and prevent Adam from having too much time to admire her soft, feminine body. His athleticism had never intimidated her until now. It was not his talent or his status, but his body that made her so instantaneously insecure. And she was sure he could feel it in the desperation of her kiss against his mouth and the angles of his jawline. 
Charlie could feel the vibrations of his groan against his own lips as Adam lowered himself down against her. He wasn’t heavy against her, but Charlie marveled at just how much of him she could feel. His chest was warm against the exposed skin of her breast, his friction sending the cups of her bra chaffing and making her nipples hard. Then there were his hips, which pressed down into her. It sent the cold metal of his belt buckle dragging over her skin and the pressure, paired with the strength of his thick, muscular thighs had her spreading her legs for him further. 
Her heels dug down into the plush mattress, her hips raising with the hope of grinding up against him only to meet the flesh of his abs. Charlie groaned against his lips, almost frustrated. Why did Adam have to be so damn tall? Usually, Adam towering almost an entire foot taller than her was an asset, but not when she was trying to be sexy. 
Leaning her head back she let it lull to the side, Adam’s hot lips dragging over the soft skin of her neck, and she used that leverage to reach her hand down between their bodies and didn’t stop until her careful touch grazed over the growing bulge of his cock as it tested the restraint of his jeans. Fingers traced up and down the thick outline, earning a low, quivering breath from parted lips. A breath that was laced with a subtle holy fuck that she did her best to play off as a moan. Adam was huge, in every way she could possibly imagine. From his height to his cock - Charlie swallowed hard - she was all the more intimate to take him now. 
“First time?” Adam muttered out against her skin, his tone only half teasing. 
“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” Charlie gawked up at him, her eyes going as large as a doe in the headlights as she mocked him, “Oh Adam, I’ve been waiting so long for you to take me with your giant cock. I’ve wanted you and only you for so long,” she let out two desperate heaves before she was muffling her laughter into the strength of his bicep. 
“Fuck off,” Adam laughed, his hands taking each side of her hips firmly before flipping over in the bed. He guided him on top of him effortlessly, her knees falling on each side of his hips so that she could feel him against her cunt the only thing between them was the thin layers of their clothes. 
Perched up on top of him, her cheeks flushed with color, her hands coming to brace against his chest as she began to roll her hips slowly. The friction left her biting her lip, her arousal already beginning to pool between her legs as she could feel his cock growing harder - and it even left Adam groaning with impatience. 
He was propped up against her pillow, his bright eyes fluttering as he reached a single hand out to stroke over her warm cheek. He stroked the heated flesh, his fingers reaching out to hold her dark tendrils away from her soft features as he spoke to her. “I may not be your first, Charlie,” his tone was low, sultry and it left her mouth dry and panties wet, “but have you taken a cock this big?”
She let her hips roll slowly dragging her cunt from what felt like his balls to tip, and she shuttered as her head shook slowly from side to side. And she watched as his smile grew, the touch of his thumb stroking against her cheek a little more tender now. 
“We can go slow,” he assured, his hips raising as his hand dropped. 
She couldn’t hold back the soft whimper that took her as the pressure of his cock tested the friction of her jeans as he sunk his hand into his pocket. He fished out his wallet, drawing out the fine leather before pulling out the foil that had been tucked away among a wad of cash in various, colorful, dollar amounts. 
“That’s not the same one that you stole from your dad’s bedside table in high school, is it?” She teased him gently, her smile splaying over her lips as she crawled off of him and to the bed at his side. 
“No, no,” Adam laughed before he put the foil in his mouth and held it there as she reached down to take care of his jeans and belt. It was as he pushed them down he muttered, “that one didn’t fit.”
“Oh fuck off, they stretch,” Charlie scoffed, her handing beginning to work on her own pants. 
Spitting the condom out on the bed, Adam smirked and pressed up onto his knees. “Okay, okay, correction,” he raised his hands up as if in surrender, “it didn’t fit comfortably.”
“That’s what I thought,” she chided as she pushed her pants down to her knees, only for Adam’s own hands to meet the fabric and pull them down the rest of the way. 
Charlie could feel every lazy drag of his fingers against her skin, his touch like the strike of a match leaving a blazing trail on her skin in its wake. It should have left her pulling away, but it only made Charlie want more. His touch silenced her teasing, his fingers dragging back up the smooth skin of her legs as she was rid of her jeans and was left in nothing but her underwear. If it had been anyone else Charlie would have been flooded with confidence, but with Adam, it might as well have been her first time. He knew her better than anyone, every story, every scar, every secret. But it was only being near-naked in front of him that she felt truly vulnerable.
His hands kept gliding up. Up over the ticklish curves of her knees. Up over imperfect, tiger-striped thighs. And to the thin, flimsy fabric of her panties that left an imprint of the seams against her hips. Adam looks up at her through his shaggy hair as two thick fingers hooked her panties around her hips - and she couldn’t breathe. Not while he was looking at her like that, silently asking her permission to keep going with the most curious and caring of glances. Her lips parted, but she found no words. Charlie could only nod. 
Adam bit down on his lip as he eased her panties away from her lips. Charlie watched as his jaw went slack, his gaze dropping to the sweet heat between her legs as it was exposed to him. “Oh, Charlie,” Adam let out a satisfied hum at the sight of how her arousal, and how it had soaked into her panties, “you’re so wet.” His words were almost as if he were in awe, but then his smile grew and his tone became teasing, “Did I do that?”
His teasing cut right through her nerves and brought a smile to her lips that lit up her features and brought her the confidence she so desperately needed. 
“You might have had something to do with it,” her head cocked to the side sending her dark curtain of curls over her shoulders and over her breasts as she reached back to free the, from the confines of her bra. 
Adam’s eyes went as wide at the sight of her soft, womanly body fully exposed to him. His smile didn’t fade, no, it grew wider as his teeth took hold of his lower lip almost shyly. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Charlie muttered. Her words were a mere whisper as her arms crossed over her chest awkwardly in an attempt to cover her exposed breasts. 
Adam almost stuttered on his words, his cheeks flushing as he reached a hand out to gesture to her body, “you look, incredible Charlie. Absolutely, just, wow-”
“You're just saying that-”
“No, really,” Adam sighed, his hand reaching down and pushing down his boxers and abandoning them at the foot of the bed. She crawled up her childhood bed until he was seated against the pillow - his stiff cock laying out over the tone plains of his stomach threatening to draw all of her attention. It was there, propped up in the comfort of her bed, that he ripped open the foil and worked the thin latex over his cock with the strength of his well-worked hands. “Come ‘ere, Charlie.”
Silently, she obliged and crawled up the length of the bed and into his lap. Each of her knees found its place at each of his hips and her sweet, dripping cunt came to rest over his cock. Her stomach fluttered with the nerves of anticipation, her hips rolling oh so slightly so that she could feel the thick vein of his cock stroke against her clit. The pleasure burned through her body and coaxed a soft sound from Adam’s lips. One that lingered in his words as he spoke to her, “you’re fucking perfect.”
His hand reached out, stroking her dark hair back from her face, and back so that it cascaded down the length of her back. His hands then dragged down, Stroking at her eager neck and the angles of her shoulder and stopping at the impressive swells of her breast. Adam palmed at her supple flesh with his coarse hands, her chest consumed by desperate, heaving breaths at his touch - and he muttered out his sweet words, “so perfect…” Then, Adam was leaning in, his hair hanging down into his eyes as his mouth descended down. He placed slow, open-mouthed kisses over each breast. Kisses that warmed them with the heat of his mouth and were instantly cooled by the room’s tepid air. 
“Adam,” Charlie gasped out, her fingers finding his hair gripping just enough to ground herself but not enough to stop his movements as he sucked on one nipple, and the next, before his tongue dragged up from the valley between them to the sweet angles of her jaw. 
Adam raised a brow at her as he placed peppered kisses along her jaw, trialing his way to the corner of her mouth as he let out an inquisitive hum, “do you think you’re ready for me, Charlie?”
Nodding desperately, Charlie pressed up on her knees and gave Adam the room he needed to reach between them. She could feel his hot hand against the inside of her thigh as he took hold of his own cock, stroking it slowly as he drew it up to guide the very tip to her core - but it wasn’t without teasing her first. He dragged the tip of his cock up and down the fold of her cunt slowly, sending her arousal dripping down the latex and over his hand before he positioned himself at her core. 
“You don’t have to take it all,” he assured her gently, “it can be… a lot. So go slow, and we can stop if you need to. Okay, Charlie?”
“Yeah,” she sighed, her hand reaching out to brace herself against the strength of his shoulders, “yeah, okay.” She took two long blinks, trying to ease the spinning in her mind at the feeling of his cock between her legs. It all seemed like a dream, like the ones she would have as a teenager and would do all in her willpower to repress - because you weren’t supposed to think about your best friend like that. But it was the burning pleasure of slowly taking his cock into her eager cunt that reminded her that this was very much of a reality. 
Charlie took him slowly, inch by inch he spread her walls, and it left her cursing out under her breath in pleasure. “You’re taking me so well, Charlie,” came Adam’s encouraging coo, his hands having abandoned his own cock and found her hips to help carefully guide her as she rode his cock. With each rise and fall of her cunt around his cock, her head spun and she questioned just how much more of him there could possibly be. 
“Jesus Christ, Adam,” she near yelped, her head thrown back before she could bite down on her lip and stop herself. 
Adam hushed her gently, a single hand raising to stroke over her cheek. Charlie leaned into his touch as she panted, her lips parting and taking his thumb in her mouth without a thought in her head. She sucked on it slowly, earning a soft moan from Adam’s lips and it muffled her own as she eased down on him further and found the relief of his balls smacking against her ass. She had managed to take all of him. Smiling around his thumb, Charlie cast a glance down at Adam who was watching her with a dreamy gaze. 
“We’re going to have to find a way to keep you quiet, Charlie,” he beamed up at her and dragged his thumb from her lips and over her smooth cheek slowly. He cupped her face in her hand, his fingers knotted in her hair. “Because if your dad wasn’t going to kill me before, he sure as hell would want to kill me now-” 
“Don’t talk about my dad when you’re balls deep in my cunt, please,” Charlie begged, her skin ablaze and shimmering as she began to sweat. 
“Sorry, mood killer?”
“Just a bit,” Charlie gasped out as the tip of his cock pressed into her limits. She was so impossibly full of him, and it near had her legs trembling. 
“I’ll make it up to you,” Adam spoke, his words almost charming as his hand gripped at her hip firmly, “just don’t make a sound.” 
His smile was wicked as he held her gaze and drew her in close to his body. With their bodies chest to chest, his cock buried to its absolute limit and her face tucked into his neck to muffle any sound that would threaten to spill from Charlie’s lips, Adam flipped them.
The plush mattress was welcome on Charlie’s back as she let out a soft yelp against the flesh of Adam’s throat. “Sorry,” she muttered softly, her smile blossoming and her lips dragging over his neck with every word, “I can’t help it - you feel so good.” 
Adam propped himself up with his elbows on each side of her head, his lips coming down to kiss her forehead with a slow lingering kiss - as he couldn’t quite reach her lips while he remained deep inside her cunt. His hot breath washed over her face with every exhale as he began to roll his hips, drawing his cock from her just enough to slide back inside her in a steady rhythm. Each thrust sent a burning pleasure through to her core, and a soft sound from parted lips. It was a moan that only threatened to grow louder as the pleasure grew. And when Charlie wound her short legs around Adam’s hips, she muffled her cries of pleasure in the strength of his shoulder and clung to him like he was her only source of gravity. 
Her eyes watered as she held onto him so desperately, her teeth grazing over his skin and the taste of him lingered on her tongue as she muffled her moans into his shoulder - and when he reached a hand back to grip at her thick thigh, holding it in place as he hit such a depth that sent his own eyes fluttering back with pleasure, her head lulled to the side and she forced to burry he gave into the flex of his bicep.
“Adam,” his name was a hymn on her tongue, her body shuddering as her climax threatened to overtake her - as he could feel its threat as her cunt began to pulse around him. 
His hand only left her leg to take hold of her chin, guiding her soft features took look up at his as they too melted with pleasure. His thumb stroked over her lips slowly, tugging at her lower lobe and drawing her sweet lips open to welcome his mouth. Charlie was consumed by Adam’s kiss - one that was unlike the one that had started it all. There was no caution, no that had all been abandoned now. His kiss was one with purpose. One that stole her desperate breath from her breast and flooded her with emotion. It struck her like a slap to the face, leaving her gasping against his lips and her head spinning. 
Not once had she ever been kissed the way Adam had kissed her, and it left her trembling as her core clenched around him. The grip of her was enough to draw him to his release. He lost all control, every thought of gentle caution seemingly lost as Adam pounded into her with a series of forceful thrusts. Then, with his cock buried deep inside her and sweat dripping down the angles of his face and body, Adam stilled. 
Faces mere inches apart, only panting could be heard. Eyes brown and blue were caught between open and fluttering shut as their bodies only began to calm. While Charlie crazed to continue to be close to Adam, the wrap of her legs around his waist loosened, her feet sliding down to the bed with a quiet thud. And she reached up both hands slowly to stroke his sweat-drenched strands from his face. Charlie watched as his eyes fluttered and his lips parted as he let out every heavy exhale that was laced with the whisper of her name on his tongue. And she relished in it, her own name echoing in her euphoria dazed mine until Adam’s words drew her back into reality. 
“What time is it?” his words were a soft whisper as he remained hovering over her and his cock still buried deep in her cunt. 
Charlie’s head lulled to the side, taking in the glow of her old digital clock. “Late,” she answered him simply, “people would have started to go home already… Your parents, were they staying the night in the guest room?” Her words were slow, hesitant even as she silently recollected the many times he had spent the night in her room when they were children. When they were too young for their parents to care, they had shared the bed, or even a tent out in the backyard in the summertime - but as they had grown older, her father more concerned about a teenager's urges, Adam had slept on the floor beside her bed. She remembered waking up with her hand reaching down over the edge of the bed to his hand even more fondly now. 
“No,” Adam hung his head, “we were going to cab home, my flight leaves early in the morning.”
Her heart fell, and her stomach twisted into knots. Of course, he would have to leave. They would need him back before their next game, and they kept a tight schedule - she was lucky to have gotten to see him at all. There was no easing how sick knowing she was going to have to say goodbye to him before the night was through made her. Not even the thrill of seeing him again, nor the euphoria of her climax could put it at ease. 
Charlie forced a smile, trying so desperately to hide the dread that consumed her. “We should probably get dressed before someone comes looking for you.”
“Your dad would really kill me then, huh?” Adam half laughed as he pushed up with whatever strength he had left as eased his cock from her core. 
She near whined as she was left void of him, her legs coming together firmly as she shifted to the edge of her bed. She bit down on her lip as she fought to find her composure, and when she spoke her tone with low but she carried her smile into her voice, “Your teammates would really miss you if you died over something so menial-”
“Ouch,” Adam hissed, his hand coming up to rest over his heart as if he had been stabbed through it, “menial? That’s how bad it was?”
“Adam I-” Charlie found herself stumbling over her words as she pulled a loose t-shirt down over her naked body - the Swift Current Broncos logo resting right over her chest, “you know that’s not what I meant…”
“I know,” Adam grinned his tone teasing as he discarded the used condom into the waste basket by her bed and moved to step into his boxers, “I’m just teasing you Charlie - and like, I mean,” he rambled as he tried to choose his words carefully, “you enjoyed yourself?”
“Well,” Charlie’s tone was teasing as she found his t-shirt, took it in her hand, and held it out to Adam casually, “you were right about being the biggest-”
“Oh, you’re just cruel, Charlie!” Adam laughed out so loud that she was sure that someone would have heard it downstairs. He continued to laugh as he stepped forward, his one hand pushing his shirt away while the other reached out for her. Soon, Adam had her in his arms again and hoisted her up so that he was holding her near and her legs could wrap around his middle. “Lie to me at least,” he playfully begged her as his hands kneaded at the soft flesh of her thighs, “tell me it’s all you’ve ever dreamed.”
Charlie shook her head slowly, her forehead coming down to rest against his carefully as she deadpanned, “worst I’ve ever had.” And then she snickered, her lips curling up into a smile to match Adams. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved that you’re the worst liar I know,” Adam sighed in relief, “because I don’t think I have the time to prove to you just how good I can be…”
“Another time, hot shot,” Charlie hummed, leaning back just enough to peer around him and to the door when she heard footsteps pass in the hall, “I think we’ve pushed our luck long enough.”
Adam lowered her to the ground before his hands abandoned her body for the soft fabric of his t-shirt - but the ghost of his touch remained on his skin and between her legs even. It was a feeling that Charlie was sure would be difficult to forget - even if it all came to feel like nothing more like a dream in the morning. 
The pair dressed in silence, nothing shared between them except lingering glances and soft smiles as more and more skin was covered. It was only in that silence that Charlie could hear that the Christmas carols that had consumed the home had gone quiet and there was nothing more to be heard from downstairs than their father’s laughter.
“You should go down first,” Charlie decided as she reached for her robe and leaned back against the pale floral wallpaper that decorated her wall, “dad will ask too many questions if I come down already changed into my pajamas…” 
“Yeah, right, good idea,” Adam stuttered, his hand carding through his own hair, “so I guess, this is where I should give you a proper goodbye, huh? Because I don’t think you’re dad would like me kissing you at the front door…”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Charlie nodded slowly and swallowed hard - though, she would be much more worried about what their mothers would do if they had found out. She was already sure that they had been planning their wedding since they were five. “Don’t be a stranger Adam…”
“Just pick up the phone when I call Charlie,” Adam hummed, his tone almost dreamy as his hand came up to cup her cheek. Then he leaned in, placing a soft, warm kiss on her lips - one that would linger long after he left. 
“I’ll pick up, promise.”
“That’s my girl,” Adam praised, but when he pulled back he was wearing a solemn look. 
He hated goodbyes. 
And so did she. 
“Merry Christmas, Charlie,” was Adam’s final goodbye in the privacy of her bedroom, his thumb dragging over the skin of her cheek and neck before she was left completely void of his touch, “you were by far the best gift I got to unwrap this year.”
Her cheeks flushed red hot with color as she stepped back from the door. She hid just out of sight of anyone waiting just on the other side of the door. “Merry Christmas, Adam,” she spoke, her head leaning against the wall. It was from there that she watched him open up the door - his features falling into relief when he found that their parents were still very much entertained with each other’s company downstairs. He glanced back with a grin, one that silently screamed: SUCCESS, before he reached back and shut the door back into its place in the frame. Charlie didn’t move an inch, not even as she heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs just on the other side of the wall. There was nothing comforting about the sound of him leaving. Not when she so desperately wanted him to stay. Saying goodbye was something that had never been easy for them, not even as children - one of them had always cried. And now, they had made things a whole lot harder by blurring the lines between friendship and something more. 
Act 2. 
The warmth of the ski lodge was a welcome after a day spent out on the slopes. Charlotte’s body ached in all the worst places, but no one would have been able to guess it. Not with how she carried herself so well in a pair of heels and her short, yet elegant slip dress that hugged her body in all the right places. Her hair was left down in long, cascading curls, and her makeup was just enough to hide the sunburn. Charlotte and her best friend had escaped to the mountains for the holidays, the chalet was brought to life for the last big party of the year and she had let herself be consumed by it. By the music, and by the drink, hell, even the unwanted attention from guys, she thrived on it for it was all that could keep her mind from wandering to last Christmas. 
Last Christmas, seemed both like a century ago but also only yesterday in Charlotte’s mind. She could still so clearly remember the excitement of seeing Adam for the first time, and the sting of heartache as the days of the new year passed. They had tried to keep in touch, they really had - but with the time zones, and their busy schedules, it had led to an inevitable silence. She had to focus on her courses, and Adam got called up to the NHL, becoming the hot shot she had always told him he would be. Charlotte knew she should have known better. That she should have been prepared for ever the outcome, but it didn’t take away the ache in her chest that came with giving herself fully to Adam. 
Charlotte didn’t blame him, how could she? They both knew the risks, but that didn’t mean she wanted to risk seeing him again by going home for the holiday. It was too soon, it would only rip open the wound in her heart time was still trying so desperately to turn into a scar. A wound that was ripped open the moment she looked up from her drink and towards the bar when she heard the nickname she had tried to abandon echo in her mind like the beckoning of a ghost in the crowded room. 
“Charlie, I thought that was you!” Adam was pushing through the crowd that had formed around the table, dressed casually in a nice pair of blue jeans and a half-tucked button-down. He looked just as he had a year ago, the same face that had been burned into the back of her mind at the peak of her pleasure, save for the scruff that peppered his chin and jawline. Charlotte might have even thought it looked good on him if it hadn’t felt like someone had poured the salt from her margarita into an open wound - if she hadn’t felt like she was on the verge of throwing up. 
“Charlie?” one of her friends piped up, their brows furrowed. 
“A childhood nickname,” Charlotte rolled her eyes as her lips couldn’t find her drink fast enough. Her glass was near empty by the time Adam had reached the table, her face putting on a fake smile as she looked at her friend with eyes that looked as if they had been encased in candied sugar as they were consumed by the threat of tears. “This is Adam, we grew up together.”
Her friend didn’t need to hear much more than that. From the excitement of seeing him again to the pain of getting just sort of ghosted, she knew it all and it drew her face into a knot that she struggled to hide. “Oh, yeah, the hockey star,” her friend's words were like sweet venom that would kill you before you knew the poison you were drinking. 
“What are you doing here?” Charlotte’s voice almost broke as she shifted in her seat, her fist grasping at her empty glass desperately, “I thought you would spend the holiday back in Winnipeg with that tough schedule they keep you on-”
It was a casual jab at one of the many excuses he had used to explain his silence. Sorry I couldn’t text you I had a game… I had practice… I won’t be coming home for the summer, I’ve got training… They had all been just words on a screen then, his career too much for even a conversation with her then, but somehow, he had the time to celebrate the new year in Banff. It made her stomach sick. 
“Caught a trip out with some of the guys,” he nodded back towards the bar where a group of guys had gathered, some missing teeth, others bruised and banged up from their last games before their few days off, “we fly back out tomorrow, you should come to meet them-” 
Her heart was pounding like drums in her ears, her mouth falling open as she let out a steady, frustrated huff. How could he be acting so casually, so calmly? As if nothing had ever happened between them at all. Did he ever care about her at all? The thought hit her like an avalanche, sending a single glistening tear down her cheek as she abandoned her glass and pushed it up from the table. 
“I’m sorry,” was all she could manage, her voice broken as she let her eyes drop to the floor and she began to push her way through the crowded room. 
Charlotte didn’t look back when she heard Adam call after her, and persisted through the crowd as she hoped that she would lose her in it. She was small enough, she could slip out of just about any room unnoticed, but Adam he towered over almost everyone in any room. He could use that to his advantage - so Charlie didn’t stop until she was in the foyer of the chalet, where the music was almost reduced to silence and the view of the mountains in the distance could be seen out its grandiose windows. 
She let the way the silver mood beamed down onto the slopes calm her. The sight brought a semblance of peace as the ache in her heart raged on. A peace that was lost when the echo of heavy footsteps took the foyer, and Adam’s voice pierced the air, his annoyance clear, “Dammit Charlie, what was all of that about?”
Charlotte doesn’t look at him, she doesn’t even want to listen to him as she’s standing in front of the window - the winter’s chill sending goosebumps as it permeated the window’s failing seal - with her arms crossed over her chest and her gaze locked on the mountain tops. She could feel the burn of tears as they trailed down her cheeks, tears that she tried to hide from him as he approached. 
Adam came to sand on her left, his towering frame leaning against the cold glass of the window. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, his figure only slightly distorted by the tears that built up along her lashes and smudged her mascara. 
“You should go back to the party, Adam,” she had tried to tell him firmly, but her words broke as soon as she said his name. 
He didn’t make an effort to leave, it was going to take a lot more to get rid of him than that and it left Charlotte’s stomach in knots - and it was left near lurching as she felt the warmth of his hand encroach on the expanse of her back in a careful touch. 
“Adam, don’t-” she wanted to bite out, but her words were a pathetic mewl instead as her head spiraled. Oh, how good it felt to be reminded of how it felt to be touched by him. 
His touch lingered, his fingers slipping around her waist just enough to carefully turn her to face him. She was sure he could see it all now. The tears. Her tired frown. The pain that was coming to love him and knowing that she would never be loved by him the way she needed from him. It could all be seen in the sad glimmer of her eyes. 
“Oh, Charlie,” Adam sighed, his face falling, softening at the pain that was painted across her beautiful features. 
“Don’t patronize me-”
Her words were cut short as the embrace of his hand came to warm her cheek, leaving her lips parted as she let out an unsteady breath. His touch was careful, and tender, as it wiped away the tears that strained her cheek. And she wanted so desperately to lean into that touch. To embrace its comfort and let it consume her as she had let it last Christmas. 
“Adam, don’t,” her whisper was breathy, her head turning and eyes shutting as she felt the gentle guidance of his hand as Adam tried to draw him into her. 
Charlotte desperately wanted to give in - it would feel so good to give in to him. To let him make it feel like everything was going to be alright. That their relationship would always be more than that of childhood friends, but it would be a comfort built on falsehoods. She wasn’t going to let herself get built back up only to be left in shambles again. 
Raising a hand, Charlotte took hold of his carefully, guiding it to her lips and placing a kiss on his palm slowly. Her eyes fluttered shut as she inhaled the subtle scent of his cologne, and left the warmth of his skin lingering for but a moment during her tender gesture. Then, she guided his hand back to his side, and her warm eyes met his gaze. Adam held a sadness in his eyes, one that told her that she didn’t need to speak a single word to him to explain anything. He knew the sadness she felt - and maybe he felt it too. 
“It’s been really nice seeing you Adam,” Charlotte's words were broken as she spoke, a genuine smile taking her lips for the first time, “but I can’t be doing this, not again…” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before her fingers slip from his like silk. 
Adam gave her a slow nod, the hand that had overtaken her back with the warm comfort of his touch leaving her void. Her chest ached as they held their gaze, the space between them growing as she took a careful step back. The air between them was suffocating, and it left Charlotte’s heart feeling tight in her chest.
It felt like a goodbye. A farewell to her childhood, to their friendship, and to any hope that either of them had that they would be able to sustain any kind of relationship into their adulthood. But life had taken them in separate directions. Adam with his career in Winnipeg - or anywhere else he could end up if he were to ever be traded away - and with Charlotte remaining close to her family and putting down her own roots in Calgary, there would always be too much of a divide. Too many obstacles to truly make something worse when they were both still so young and had so much more of their lives that were unknown just waiting to be uncovered. 
And so she left him standing in the foyer and made the walk back into the party alone. The ghost of his touch lingered as the music consumed her, her eyes growing bright as they fell on her friends that welcomed her back with smiles of their own. Smiles that almost eased the pain in her aching heart. It was a pain that told her that her love for Adam would never fade, and would go unforgotten. But with that pain, she could finally move on. 
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sociallyawkwardsailor · 2 months
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Against my better judgement, here's the very beginnings of my self-insert hockey RPF.
I literally typed this up after finishing a glass of bourbon and inspiration during a session of Be A Pro in NHL 23. Let me know your thoughts, because that will largely determine if I continue this (and if I publish it anywhere aside from Pillow Fort).
The phone call was unexpected.  In fact, he sighed, exasperatedly, as he opted to decline the call from an unrecognized number.  
Just another bot, he thought, as he resumed his workout.  Right as he wrapped his fingers around the dumbbells, his playlist was once again interrupted by a phone call.  "Fuck sake," he muttered, looking at his phone's display.  It was the same unrecognized number.  Annoyed, he answered the call this time.  "Yeah?"  It came out more of a statement than a greeting.
"Hi Devin this is Steve Yzerman with the Detroit Red Wings.  We'd like to get you out here for a professional tryout."
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wyattjohnston · 11 days
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Hello! For the fanfic game, D: What’s the most personal fanfic you’ve written? ❤️
so there was a time last year when the guy i had a crush on in high school (no longer do, + he’s married and his wife is fantastic) was being an embarrassment and said something to the tune of “i don’t get embarrassed but it’s hilarious that it embarrasses you” and i had a moment (hilariously outside the NHL game in Melbourne) when i realised i accidentally based flick & tyson off me and him… so…
i’ve always said that flick is the most similar to me (stef too but for different reasons) and that was very much a “what have i fucking done” moment where i realised i accidentally made a self insert
questions!
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alicechugstea · 1 month
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the transformative power of fanfic aka it was just being horny but i got emotionally invested instead (i feel like ive rick rolled myself) now its not a joke when i say nhl/sidney crosby is/has been fundamentally changing me
i am soooooooooo.... u gotta excuse myself here because i am SO sleep deprived. i am so sleep deprived. i started cpap therapy just over a week ago and i am jhsust sooo. ive been sleepy hungover since conception this is the worst my brain is scrambled eggs.
okay firstly. FIRSTLY. do yall have any idea how weird it is being me in this unexpected new hyperfixation of mine. i'm an aussie born chinese female from australia. im the eldest daughter in a divorced immigrant family and all that sexy stuff that comes with it. i have never followed sports in my LIFE. they have never been the thing for me. sports was always portrayed as the thing you do to lose weight and not be fat in my household, in my culture. i had zero interest, i did not cultivate any interest. i was not exposed to sports and sports culture until i met white australians aka my stepfather, and that kind of sports (nrl, soccer, afl) was presented to me as inexplicably white, hyper-masculine, and both violent and celebrated with violence. where was i supposed to see myself in there? at most i was on the sidelines with my family watching. at the least i would choose not to be home during certain games because i did not want to deal with the drunkeness and violence and stupid conflict.
my fandoms and my hyperfixations have never been sports and have never been real people. they have always been fictional media, predominantly east asian (anime, manga, video games, sometimes western tv shows or comics) because that is where there was space for me and all the dichotimies and paradoxes - my gender, my race, my neurodivergencies, my cultural background, my sexuality, my inter-generational traumas, my values and my journey to become me (whatever that was/is)
AND THEN FUCKING ICE HOCKEY HAPPENED. a very, VERY white, western, cis-male dominated, hyper-masculine, violent, competitive team sport.......... THAT VERY MUCH ISN'T A THING IN MY COUNTRY AND I AM LITERALLY THE ONLY PERSON I KNOW THAT HAS A SMIDGE OF INTEREST IN THE SPORT ITSELF, NEVERMIND ALL THE *waves my hand at the pile of.... self insert/imagines fic*
DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WEIRD THIS IS..... like there's only been a few handful of times that i can count in my life where i've had an experience that's really made me go "oh...oh i really am a minority" down to the marrow of my bones. being an ice hockey fan is one of those experiences.
*holds my head in my fucking hands*
so what does this mean? it means i now understand what a muse did to humans during ancient greek and roman mythology. my life is literally-MY MIND HAS BEEN TAKEN OVER!!! I have PAINTED and DRAWN so much these past TWO MONTHS. i've written OVER 15K WORDS OF FIC IN LESS THAN 2 MONTHS. wht at the fctual fuck.
why has it gripped me so??? because i was horny? wrong, past alice, WRONG. rarely do you ever get in a life a chance to examine the depths of your own psyche and put yourself under the microscope.
writing self-insert/reader x sidney crosby fic is for SOME REASON making me re-examine and reflect about my gender identity, my notions of affection/companionship/sex, and my perception of how i interact with members of the opposite sex (cis-men in this case).....BECAUSE OF MY ABSENTEE FATHER ISSUES???????????????????????????????? (funny coincidence that when i started getting into the nhl + pens is when uhhh my father tried to reach out to me again and i was genuienly what the fuck ever about it but apparently subconscious me was not - i had a dream i was arguing with my father and so i started punching him, and apparently my brain was so angry that my body unlocked itself from sleep paralysis because i rolled over in my sleep and started punching my husband in the ribs. big fucking lmao.) and uh. uh. the expectations thing. THE EXPECTATIONS THING.
let me uhh let me try and be methodical about this??? (not to reduce my entire experience in life down to dotpoints and labels but whatever we're oging for efficiency here)
the gender thing: listen. LISTEN. eldest daughter of an asian immigrant family. eldest grand-daughter too. second person on BOTH sides of the family to go to university (only after my mother) i have a younger brother. i went to an all girls private school. had undiagnosed adhd, bipolar 2, developed cptsd. straight bangs, black hair, glasses. my first boyf was a private school boy. ect ect u get where i am going here????? there was a very Set Form of Female that I was living in for a very long time!!!
now? blue black wolf cut mullet thing. tattoos out the fucking wazoo. 20000% bi. last year i touched make up twice - 1x for my wedding make up trial and 1x for my actual wedding. im built like a linebacker, i always have been. i have never been small and slender and will not be. i got into power lifting i got into mma and jiujitsu and wrestling and boxing and i was an assistant coach for a while!! i enjoy VIOLENCE!! AND I AM FULL OF ANGER AND RAGE AND FURY. i enjoy being ONE OF THE BOYS my best friend and i would get into wrestling matches AT SCHOOL and then we would have to stop because we nearly tipped the bench trying to head lock each other!!!
you know what my role was at uni in the japanese society? i was the designated girl you sent in when the creepy white guys who only joined to try and hook up with the female japanese exchange students got too close and creepy with them.
i am a high school teacher. i regularly deal with angry teenage boys and angry middle aged men and i have never felt threatened by them because i know that i, in the invisible criteria that determines male authority/hierarchy, have more of it (whatever that IT is) and wield it with more confidence and assuredness than they can ever dream to do aka my metaphorical dick is bigger, mother fuckers.
the pinnacle of being a woman to me is so....!!! it is the justine kurland photography of lawless, unshackled femininity that vibrates at such a frequency in me that i have only just TWO DAYS AGO come to terms that whatever is a "girl" is not me anymore (moving over into non-binary territory which is a whole nother can of worms.)
ALL OF THIS BECAUSE OF HOCKEY and how blatantly accepting and CELEBRATING it is of violence and anger but primarily enacting violence and anger against others to protect what is yours (your rookies and your goalies) instead of that seemingnly non-sensical and explosive fury from when i watch rugby and soccer. in hockey you body slam to right an injustice against your found and formed family, and to celebrate each victory in pure, genuine authenticity, no holding back, no expectations to dampen what you feel, that lack of toxic femininity coded "bitchyiness" "humbleness" - i want to be crushed back into my body through forceful affection without the gender dysphoria!! i want to smile with all my teeth showing and see the same back!! i want to be violent and free!!!!!
notions of affection/companionship/sex oh my god. found family and all that you know? the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. my love language is physical affection but it's not sex - it's being pressed up against the other body and knowing that they're still there. my love language is quality time but it's not talking to each other - it's sitting in each others presence, silent for hours as a time, its inherent safety and security without any performance. ALL of this which i CRAVE like WATER in FUCKING NHL HOCKEY - on the rink, off the rink, in the locker room, the offseason, all star games, the olympics, jersey retirements and all those rituals and ceremonies and all that and more.
THE FATHER ISSUES??? me @ me: do you have any idea how fucking insane it is that you're exploring your cptsd, parental abandonment issues, and the crushing weight of inter-generational trauma/cultural expectations through wanting to fuck captain of the pittsburgh penguins, sidney crosby.
me @ me: well when you put it like that-
also add in the fact that essentially every major male figure in my life before i met my husband has had some form of raw stupidity and insecurity - my father lol, my first stepfather who left my mother bc he didn't want to be around us children, my current stepfather (drinking problems, borderline early dementia, all kinds of old boomer cis white i used to be a rugby player my friends went to vietnaaam kinda stuff), my first boyfriend (i think he's a neo nazi now....) VS every major female figure in my life who while they have all their undiagnosed and unaccepting of mental illnesses have GRINDED their way through life and through to success!! so yeah.
sidney crosby just straight up being a nice dude while also being crazy intense and crazy on the ice?? a bit confusing. very intriguing. a little shocking. i wanna fuck him. i wanna fight him. i wanna be his daughter. i would hate to be his daughter. he would always be there for me. he will always love hockey more than anything else in the world. i am so intrigued by that more than anything else. to be the best hockey player in the world requires sacrifices. where are your boundaries. what do you value. what will you do when you cannot play hockey anymore. what does that mean for a family???
the expectations thing
it must say something about something that i, with my background and demographic and all those bits and pieces, see the essence of myself so hard in a 36 year old white canadian professional athlete.
my identity has carved 27 years of isolation and helplessness. my family, for all intents and purposes, the model minority, the immigrant success story. my mother, with no english and only 10 dollars, moving to australia with the help of every single family member for two years to save up for a one way plane ticket - she spends the first night sleeping underneath a dining table in some kind strangers' home. she spends the 10 dollars the next day on a bus ticket and a map, and off she goes. who am i to complain then of my life and my struggles and my childhood? i am left alone over the weekend while my mother works. she has cooked food for me and it is in the fridge. i wake up alone on a saturday morning, eat breakfast and then watch cartoons in the living room. i am 6, maybe 7 years old. before i am 10 i am a translator, and a mother to my younger brother, and the ghost of my aunt who is sister's with my mother, and a secretary to my parents, and a babysitter when we are at the factory to 3 or 4 others, and a fellow worker in the summer sanding down furniture between coats of laquer from 8am to 5:30pm. before 12 i am the lifeline my paternal grandmother grips on to, sometimes painfully tight, a bony shackle, to ask for money, to ask to help my father, just to help him get on his feet (for the second and third and forth and fifth time) before 12 i can feel what undiagnosed adhd and untreated bipolar 2 is doing to me. i have no one to turn to, no objective baseline, so i carry on.
i grow up with the immediate expectations of three generations on me, me, me - and then i learn of how my maternal grandmother worked as labourer for all her life, who only has a kindergarten level education, who with my grandfather (her husband) were both born towards the end of the japanese occupation of shanghai, and then i learn of how my mother grew through mao's cultural revolution, and what that means (it means that my family does not know how a tea ceremony works because it was banned, and my maid of honour had to teach them on the day of my wedding) and now it is the weight of generations upon generations who have place their hope and love and expectations on me -
so i am 16 and i cannot live up to it, and i do not want to live up to it, and i tell my mother, and she does not say anything - because i go to a private girls school and i have an excellent education, and food on the table and a queen sized bed, and there is electricity and running water, and she drives a mercedes and i own an iphone - so she does not say anything because she does not know what to say to someone she does not understand, and so i my brain forcibly forgets (it has forgotten a lot of those years) and i carry on.
and then i am 19 and it is too much, and then i am 26 and it is too much, because how do i have the audacity to complain or show any sort of weakness or ungratefulness to? i have money, i go on holidays, i have achieved and achieved in everything i try my hardest to do - and 4 weeks in a psychiatric ward and 12 months of intensive therapy and rehab later - and drugs and medication trials and maniac episodes and paranoia, and emergency rooms, and being asked "what would happen if you did not achieve?" and going "then my life would be forfeit - because i do not deserve it" and learning and learning and still LEARNING to shed it and to let go.
to let go of expectations - my freedom is hard fought of literal blood, sweat, tears and vomit.
i want stand over sidney crosby and cradle his face and pull it tight to mine and ask him the same questions i asked and continue asking myself - how did you do it? how are you doing it? are you okay? whois in your corner? who is there that loves you? i hope you have them, i hope you always do
i want to tell sidney crosby: i want you to be okay, like i have managed to eventually be okay. i hope you are okay. i know what it feels like. i do, i do. i really do. the weight of expectations. to be forced to be the saviour. to show humbleness and gratitude in the wake of grief and violence and pain. it is so different, it is fundamentally the same. i nearly died underneath it all - i'm not sure if nearly happened to you to - i hope it didn't, and if it it did, i'm so proud and happy that you made it through
i want to thank him SO hard - he has done it unintentionally and i know he is such a private person, but i want to thank him so so SO much because his personal narrative has, for some reason, some way or another, found me, and i have been able to look into its reflection and cry and scream in relief that there is someone who is the same - and they're okay, they're more than okay.
maybe that's why everything i write - the reader/mc's are all similar.
i dont know how else to summarise/end this so i'll just note down the only thing that makes sense:
year 7 term 1 in english, our unit is the hero's journey. we look at joseph campbell's formular and how it has been translated through different texts.
one of our lessons we spent on creating a presentation about our personal hero. as a class we said that is someone who, fundamentally, has personal qualities, abilities and/or achievements that we regard as a role model or as an ideal.
at the time of the lesson, i didn't have one.
but now - and maybe it's hyperfixation, maybe it's the sleep deprivation, who knows? - i can confidently say it's sidney crobsy.
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thechaseofspades · 1 year
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How about a director’s cut for My Head Is an Animal? What made you decide to work Of Monsters and Men (and that album, in specific) into the story? How did you first get into them?
🎵 Musical Episode Talk 🎶
Fair warning, I use a *lot* of words to answer this. 900 of them to be approximate. Peek under the cut and scroll at your own risk.
There's a bunch of different angles to this so I'm probably just gonna spit them out variety show style and then maybe have them cross over at the end.
I've danced around this before but I'll just out and say it, Violet is kind of loosely based on me. Not in a Literally Me ™️ self-insert way, but I give her some traits and characteristics that I have in real life. As much as I like her, I feel like the show kinda left her blank, especially compared to how much development Lena and Webby got. I don't think the stuff I've added feels very out of place on her anyway.
I remember reading a few fics in which characters would come out to each other, and that was pretty neat. At the time I was way less out than I am now, so the only way I could really express that was through fiction. Hence, why I took the aroace Vi headcanon I already had and made a story out of it.
I'm a sucker for character playlists. Whether it's songs that tell their story, or just the kind of music they'd be into, it's the easiest way for me to get a grasp on a character. I actually do this when I write as well. Each fic has its own "soundtrack", except Dream(s) because of how short it was.
OMAM had their big hit in 2012 with "Little Talks", which has kinda lingered around ever since. I've gone through phases of loving it and forgetting it even exists over the past ten years, although it's probably never leaving my head anymore.
I pick up a lot of music from soundtracks and playlists. I'm not a big discography guy. The easiest way to get me to like a song is to attach it to something else I like (hence why character playlists do it for me). In this case, OMAM appeared in the NHL 20 soundtrack ("Alligator". Recommend it), which brought them back into my brain around 2020-21.
There was a social media post I saw while I was still getting accustomed to the whole aroace thing, which asked for songs that fit the community. Kinda similar to the aro vibes post that went around about a week ago. One of them was "Love Love Love", which caught my eye because it was OMAM. I gave it a listen, and I would love to tell you that it hit me right away, but it just didn't really. But after a few times over, it started to click. I'm not sure if this is when I listened back to the whole album or if that came later, but this was the catalyst for that.
Whenever I have panic attacks or otherwise just bad times, I listen to Fleetwood Mac. It's my ultimate comfort band. My top 2 tracks are "Rhiannon" and "Dreams", which are pretty much guaranteed to put me in a better mood. That's one of the concepts I gave Violet, as both a justification for the music and a point of conflict.
[Edit: oooh I just remembered I also did this concept in the first ever fic I wrote (unreleased) about Lena having a meltdown and Webby and Vi calming her down with a song! So I guess that makes 3x I've done that trope now]
Back to character playlists. If you remember the post I made recently about the Violet Sabrewing playlist getting wiped from Spotify, that's relevant here. It had songs by The Oh Hellos and The Crane Wives, which really planted the idea in my head that Violet would be into indie folk rock. What else is indie folk rock? OMAM!
I already liked "Little Talks" and loved "LLL", and I dug the indie folk rock vibe, so I figured why not dive into the whole album. Which is funny because I almost never do that. Not a discography guy, like I said.
You still there? Great. Anyway...
When I sat down to write "My Head is an Animal", it was originally going to be about Violet finding the song, kinda like I did. The "Love Love Love" scene was going to be the majority of it. But I felt like it was missing something. I wanted to see Violet go through the process. I wanted to show her struggling, realizing, accepting, etc. I wanted to show the full experience.
Hence, the full album. I had some ideas for where I was ultimately taking the story, but this was the most seat-of-my-pants writing I've ever done. I had the songs playing on loop as I wrote each segment, writing down how it made me feel. How it made her feel. The ups, the downs, everything.
I didn't want to just parachute in during the middle of Violet's process, because that feels like shortcutting it. But I also wanted to give closure as seen in the final cut. In reality, there's still a lot more to figure out for Vi, as there is with anyone, but after putting her through a panic attack or two, I wanted to see her happy.
Hopefully that all made some sort of sense. At the very least, it was worth writing down for my sake. And big thanks for the ask!
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z0mb1e-sl1me · 9 months
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decided to check in and see how tumblr is doing- found NHL self insert fanfiction. nice to see the reddit merge went smoothly.
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theblackace · 1 month
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The Hockey Fanfic Nobody Asked For
"I'm holding up my head to keep the dream alive."
Inspired By: Frank Turner - "Punches"
A/N: Here's the first of it, the backstory and a bit of what to expect as this goes on. Again, this is self-insert, but more than likely will remain written in 3rd person because that's just easier.
The phone call was unexpected. In fact he sighed, exasperatedly, as he opted to decline the call from an unrecognized number. Just another bot, he thought, as he resumed his workout. Right as he wrapped his fingers around the dumbbells, his playlist was once again interrupted by a phone call. "Fuck sake," he muttered, looking at his phone's display. It was the same unrecognized number. Annoyed, he answered the call this time. "Yeah?" It came out more of a statement than a greeting.
"Hi Devin this is Steve Yzerman with the Detroit Red Wings. We'd like to get you out here for a professional tryout."
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"Unfortunately we just don't have a spot for you." The words echoed in his head as he tried to focus on the warmth of the water running over his head. Three goals and three assists during pre-season. There was that one checking from behind penalty and game misconduct, but that was unavoidable (the other guy turned last minute and he couldn't adjust in time). "I'm not good enough," he muttered to himself, taking a swig of the beer on the nearby porcelain shelf. The water hid the silent tears he couldn't help but shed. Get it out, move on.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of. You were invited, and that's an achievement in itself," his dad had told him over the phone. He took it as a platitude in the moment, but dad was right. Players usually go back-and-forth between the minor leagues, and between the minors and the NHL, often for years before finally getting their shot. He'd gotten a PTO contract after his rookie year in the ECHL. Certainly no small feat. And maybe the team truly didn't have space on the roster for him. Obviously his skill impressed the Detroit big wigs, or he wouldn't have gotten the invitation at all.
------------------------------------------------------- Back to Norfolk it was, with a complex mix of extra baggage in the form of disappointment, knowledge of what needed work, and a mindset that this was not the end. That same season with the Admirals proved to be the best way to focus on those things, specifically his skating. He'd had a taste of the big leagues, and having been teased with the opportunity made him realize how bad he wanted it. He used this to get through power skating drills when his quads were on fire and fatigued, to get one more rep in the weight room. He even dropped the gloves more on the ice.
Overall, his second season with the Norfolk Admirals was something he could be proud of. Manitoba called a few times. He'd play a few games then return to Norfolk, sometimes better, sometimes without change to his game. His talent as a sniper had always been there, but it didn't really develop until he started getting, well…rewarded for it. Sure, hearing the goal horn go off was a great feeling, as was emulating Austin Matthews' "I can't hear you" celly (especially at away games), but he'd discovered a…different type of reward in the locker room. His efforts helped the Admirals get over .500 for the first time in years. He started noticing fans wearing his jersey at games, and quickly became a fan favorite when his team would host post-game skates due to his humor. They could relate to him, the hometown kid who went undrafted, and supplemented his pay serving in the Navy Reserve. When an NHL team finally did sign him, it'd be a lie to say they weren't more excited than he was.
The offseason began early for him, as the Admirals had an early exit from the playoffs, losing in the wild card stage, but it wasn't too long afterward that he received another call, this time from his agent, Taylor Mackie.
"Hey Devin I got a great opportunity for you here," Taylor said, excitedly.
"Oh yeah? Is it Detroit again?" he asked, hopeful.
"Unfortunately not, but you'd be in the same division. No it's the Senators who've been on the phone with me the past few weeks. They like what they've seen and already have a PTO drafted and ready for you. You interested?"
He thought a moment. Fuckin' Ottawa, the team he had the biggest love-hate relationship with in the entire NHL, a divisional rival, a team with Mathieu Joseph, who he saw knock Detroit's captain out cold and receive no penalty. He sighed, because in reality he'd be silly to turn this down. After all, they were a young team, seemed liked a mostly good group of guys, and they had Ginger Jesus. There was a chance to be part of helping the team get its life together, and maybe a chance for him to get himself a solid career going.
"Yeah sure," he replied, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer, "let's give it a shot."
"Great, I'll start making arrangements for you to get up there! I'll be in touch."
"Cool, just keep in mind I drill this weekend." Once the call ended, he cracked open his beer and took a swig. He felt oddly optimistic about this one.
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xenocg · 5 months
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Behold: Xeno & Friends' favorite sports teams* based PURELY on aesthetic/themes
*from the NFL, MLB, NBA, & NHL
Xeno: She's my space girl so despite being my self insert, her favs are the Dallas Stars, Houston Astros, Houston Rockets, and Dallas Cowboys.
Holaura: Ah yes, the android! She's a diehard MIT Engineers fan, but what about the non-college teams? Hers are the LA Chargers, the Seattle Mariners, the Detroit Pistons, and the Tampa Bay Lightning.
Persica: She only watches the Superbowl for the half-time show, but here are her fav teams anyway: the Arizona Cardinals, the Boston Red Sox, the Miami Heat, and the Calgary Flames.
Lilium: Lilium's actually from LA, but she isn't very attached to her home city. So her favs are the Green Bay Packers, the Las Vegas Athletics, the Milwaukee Bucks, and the Minnesota Wild.
Garland: Garland actually loves American football, she was even a quarterback in her Earth high school back in Ohio. She's a MASSIVE Cincinatti Bengals fan. Her other favs are the Detroit Tigers, the Denver Nuggets, and the Nashville Predators.
Piercellar: Piercellar is big into Esports, but her traditional sports teams of choice are the Las Vegas Raiders, the Chicago White Sox, the Utah Jazz, and the New York Islanders.
Dianalibra: Diana is more of a puppy bowl gal, but her fav teams are the LA Rams, the LA Angels, the Brooklyn Nets, and the Philadelphia Flyers.
Tunikate: Tunikate is only invested in the Summer Olympics, but her favs are the Miami Dolphins, the Miami Marlins, the Sacramento Kings, and the San Jose Sharks.
Kiwi: Since Kiwi is pretty young, so she watches the puppy bowl with Diana every year (to be fair, so would Xeno since I also do that). Her teams of choice are the Cleveland Browns, the Chicago Cubs, the Orlando Magic, and the Anaheim Ducks.
BONUS: Umbra is more concerned with Necromancy than sports, but here are her picks anyway: the Baltimore Ravens, the Pittsburgh Pirates, the Minnesota Timberwolves, and the New Jersey Devils
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zackcollins · 3 years
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when i first heard your heartbeat || jack campbell
masterlist
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Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I’m deep in the feels for a certain goaltender. So, uh. That’s why this exists. As for the premise of the story, I absolutely plead the fifth. I say as a Canadian citizen living in Canada where the fifth amendment doesn’t exist. Anyways. Since I have to answer the question, I want the reader to be me so fucking badly. Happy? Alright. Now that that’s sorted. GIF credit to marc-andrefleury!!
Warnings: This fic mentions infertility and miscarriage. It’s nothing graphic, promise! It’s just mentioned as a way to further the storyline. But I’m warning about it because I know how much some people struggle with it or have struggled with it. If you need to avoid it, I completely understand and no hard feelings, okay?
Word Count: 2.4k+
Title: Lady by Brett Young
Additional: The reader is feminine this time! Or, well. The reader is anyone that has a uterus and can get pregnant! Because I specifically mention the reader having a uterus but men can have uteri too (*gestures at myself*). So, do whatever you will with that. I do call the reader a feminine term (Ms.) but it’s only when being called back to the exam room. So, you can still probably imagine yourself in the reader’s position if you have a uterus but aren’t feminine. Okay? Okay. I hope everyone enjoys this!
Sitting in the waiting room, you noticed that Jack was bouncing his left leg up and down and fidgeting with his hands. You placed your hand on his knee; he stopped bouncing and fidgeting immediately, slotting one of his hands over top of yours as he looked over into your eyes. You shared a soft look, no words being exchanged in the process. The two of you had been together long enough to be able to reassure the other with only looks. You still smiled when Jack asked if you were alright.
“Yeah,” you mumbled, guiding Jack’s hand up from his knee to kiss the back of it. Jack smiled fondly, brushing a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. You hummed in appreciation as you fell back against the waiting room chair. “Just a little nervous. You?”
Jack nodded, linking your ankles together in front of the chairs. You smiled, dropping your head against his shoulder; he brought his arm over and draped it across your upper back and shoulders. “Yeah, same, flowerbud.” Jack placed a kiss to your temple, squeezing you gently against him. 
Taking your hand, you ran it over Jack’s knee in an attempt to soothe his ever apparent nerves. You looked up at your fiance, noticing a thankful expression on his face. He nodded briefly to affirm that he was thankful before he pressed another kiss to your temple. You swung your interlocked ankles back and forth, chuckling when you heard Jack huff an amused breath above you.
“That nervous, huh?” Jack’s question came out sounding more concerned than anything. It even came out sounding more like a statement than a question, if you were being honest. All the same, Jack ran his arm comfortingly along your upper arm and helped you in your effort to swing your ankles.
“This is a big thing, bud,” you said, sighing and running a hand down your face. You glanced up at Jack and noticed that he was looking at you with concern. You smiled softly, patting your fiance’s chest. “Of course I’m gonna be nervous. Who wouldn’t be? I promise I’ll be fine once we get in there though. Okay?” Jack went to respond but he closed his mouth when the door beside the reception desk swung open and shut with a resounding thunk. 
Looking over, you saw a nurse standing there. She was holding a clipboard and appeared to be scanning the paper that was clipped to it. After a moment, she turned to face the seating area, clutching the clipboard to her chest.
"Ms. (Y/L/N)?" The nurse looked around the room. You noticed that the only other people there were a teenager and his mother. The teenager was playing on a Nintendo Switch and the mother was doing some work on a tablet computer. 
You swallowed thickly as you lifted your head from Jack's shoulder and unlinked your ankles. Standing from the chair, you grabbed Jack's hand and guided him off of his own chair. Jack gave you a quick hug before he walked with you across the room to where the nurse was standing. The nurse raised a questioning eyebrow but didn't say anything as she led you and Jack through the door and back into one of the rooms.
Once you were in a room,the nurse closed the door and instructed you to lay on the examination table. Jack quickly stood beside you, grabbing your hand without having been asked. You mouthed your thanks as you rolled the hem of your shirt up to your ribcage, squeezing your eyes shut in the process.
You heard the nurse walk across the room and heard the chair on the side that Jack wasn't on creak as the nurse sat down. You swallowed nervously, wlibg yourself to open your eyes and look at her. When you did, she was holding the ultrasound wand and a bottle of medical gel. You swallowed again, looking over at Jack. Jack nodded, running his thumb across your knuckles in an attempt to soothe your nerves.
"Are you ready?" The nurse asked, popping the top on the gel bottle. When you nodded, the nurse squirted the gel on your stomach. Shivering, you tried to recoil from the feeling of it on your skin. The nurse chuckled as she clicked the bottle closed and placed it back in the basket attached to the ultrasound machine. "Sorry. I probably should've warned you that it was going to be cold."
"No, it's fine," you said, sighing in annoyance. "It wasn't that bad anyways."
When you looked up at Jack, you could tell that he was trying his best to bite back a laugh or a smartass remark. You took your hand and swatted your fiance on the elbow, smirking when he huffed in defeat. You also cast him a stern, although soft at the same time, look to tell him to behave himself. Jack simply chuckled and gave a half-assed smile in response. You rolled your eyes as you looked back at the nurse.
She didn't seem to have noticed what had happened because she was looking at the ultrasound machine. She appeared to be pushing buttons and trying to find the right settings to get it to work. She pressed a few more buttons before nodding a moment later, turning to you and grabbing the wand again.
“Alright,” she said, adjusting herself in her seat so that she was in a better position to use the wand on your stomach. “Are you ready to get this show on the road?”
You heard Jack scoff as you chuckled, nodding along to what the nurse was saying. “Yeah. Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“What about you, dad?”
“I’m the baby’s dad, not her dad,” Jack replied, sounding a little confused at that assumption.
The nurse sighed, shaking her head as she placed the wand on your stomach. You took your hand, patting Jack’s elbow sympathetically looking at him with just as much sympathy. Jack tilted his head in confusion, raising his shoulders, lifting the hand that wasn’t holding yours, and contorting his face into a look of confusion to express that he had no idea what the hell was going on.
“Jack, bud,” you said, looking up into your fiance’s eyes. “That’s what she meant. She would’ve said grandpa if she thought you were my dad.”
“Oh,” Jack mumbled. You saw his face wash over with a nice bubblegum hue as he looked between you and the nurse. “Sorry. I’m nervous.”
“It’s fine. A lot of first time parents are.” The nurse looked up from where she had been moving the wand along your stomach and turned to the ultrasound machine. She pressed a couple of buttons and it brought up the sonogram image of your uterus and the baby inside of it, though there wasn’t really much to see because you weren’t that far along. The nurse pointed to the screen and circled her finger around the tiny black and grey image of the baby. “There’s your little one. I’d say you’re about eight to ten weeks along.”
You felt tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Before you had a chance to wipe them away, you heard Jack sniffle from beside you. You looked over and saw that he was already crying, tears streaking gently down his cheeks. That sent you over the edge, making your eyes open up and leak tears down your own cheeks. Jack brought your hand up and kissed your knuckles while running a thumb along the pulse point in your wrist. You shivered because the sensation of crying mixed with the sensation of him touching your pulse point was nearly too much to handle.
“Would you like to hear the baby’s heartbeat?” The nurse cut in, making you and Jack both look over at her. 
You looked up at Jack; Jack nodded fervently, a large smile present on his tear stained face. You turned back to the nurse and nodded, wiping away some of the tears on your cheeks. “Yeah. We’d love that.”
The nurse smiled as she turned to the ultrasound machine to press a couple of buttons. There was the sound of static for a moment then the nurse moved the wand and the faint sound of a beating heart could be heard through the speakers on the machine. You looked up at Jack and Jack looked down at you. Both of you burst into tears as you listened to the sound of your unborn child’s heartbeat. It was so surreal because you had tried to have this baby for the last four years. Four years of failed treatments. Four years of negative pregnancy tests. Four years of miscarriages. Four years of anguish had finally led up to this moment. A moment where you got to hear the heartbeat of a baby that was growing inside of you. A baby that was as much a part of you as they were a part of Jack. It was almost too much for you to handle. And, judging by the look and tears on Jack’s face, it was almost too much for him to handle as well.
“Do you want an .mp3 file of the heartbeat?” The nurse put a reassuring hand on your hip. “Hearing it obviously means a lot to you.”
“Yes, please, oh my god,” you and Jack blurted at the same time, tears falling harder down your cheeks as you both looked at the nurse.
The nurse nodded, taking her hand away from your hip. She pressed a button on the ultrasound machine and you heard a beep that was much the same as that of a voicemail recording. After a few moments, the beep sounded again and the nurse turned back around and pressed the button again. It was at that moment that she set the wand down and handed you some paper towels to clean your stomach off. You thanked her as you wiped away the gel that was left, tears starting to subside. When you were done, Jack took the paper towels and threw them away in the garbage bin across the room. When he returned, the nurse was typing something into the machine. When she was done typing, a second or two passed before you heard your phone chime in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw that the nurse had emailed you the .mp3 file she had just recorded. You felt the tears starting to ramp back up, but Jack placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder calmed you down enough to stop you from crying again.
“Alright. That should be it for today,” the nurse said, clasping her hands together. “If you need anything, give the office a call. Otherwise, I’ll see you in two months for your next appointment.” You and Jack nodded as the nurse reassuringly patted your knee. “Take as much time as you need to gather yourselves. There aren’t any more appointments until after lunch.” With that, the nurse stood from the chair and walked out of the room.
Jack looked at you, bending down and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. You grabbed his wrist and soothed your thumb along his pulse point. You revelled at the fact that Jack shivered at your touch, finding it a small accomplishment because he wasn’t usually one to get flustered like that. When you ran your thumb along the pulse point again, he shivered again, proving to you that he was just as overwhelmed by this whole situation as you were.
Without saying a word, you unlocked your phone and opened up the email app. Bringing up the email from the nurse, you clicked the .mp3 file and downloaded it onto your phone. Once again, without saying a word, you made a few changes to the haptics and dropped the phone in your lap. Looking up at Jack, you nodded down at the device, squeezing your eyes shut nervously.
“Why don’t you text me what time you guys play tonight, I accidentally deleted it from my calendar when I put in this appointment.” If that was a lie, Jack didn’t need to know.
Jack nodded, pulling out his own phone. After a moment, you saw him typing away on the screen and then heard him send the message. A moment later, you heard your phone go off. Looking up at Jack, you saw him frozen in place, his own phone dangling to the side of his hoodie pocket. He carefully slipped it inside before he wrapped you in a massive hug. The next thing you heard was your fiance sobbing into the crook of your neck and felt his body vibrating against you. You brought your hands up and ran them soothingly along his back, mumbling sweet nothings softly into his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.
When the phone went off again after you hadn’t cleared the notification, Jack stepped back and wiped his eyes with his hoodie sleeves. He looked down at the phone and then up at you. You saw a small smile on his distraught face. You took your hand and interlaced your fingers with the fingers of one of your fiance’s hands. Jack smiled a little more fondly at that, squeezing your hand. You squeezed back, running your hand along Jack’s elbow.
Jack heaved a heavy sigh before he looked back down at you, a fonder expression on his face. You ran a hand along his elbow again, smiling just as fondly in return. Jack leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your temple, brushing some of your hair aside with his free hand. You hummed, leaning into the touch.
“I can’t believe I finally get to be a father,” Jack mumbled, voice marred by how hard he had been crying. “I’ve waited my whole life for this. Waited four years with you. And all those years were worth it because I finally got to hear my baby’s heartbeat. Something I thought would never happen. And it’s happening with the love of my life. Can you believe that?”
You felt suddenly overcome with emotions as you sat there. You dropped your head against Jack’s chest; Jack took his hand and cradled your head, carding his fingers through your hair. You hummed softly at the sensation of his finger against your scalp. It felt nice to have something calming in all this chaos.
“Yeah, I can believe that,” you said, voice somewhat muffled by Jack’s chest. “Because all of it’s happening with the love of my life too.”
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edgynoise-art · 3 years
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Kylee is actually a decent skater! While she hasn’t skated in years and was never great at ice hockey, she’ll never turn down a game of floor/street hockey!!
(Fair warning, she gets very fired up when she plays/skates and will not hesitate to throw down with anyone)
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welcome, playoff canes shippers!
are you feeling lost and lonely now that the flyers, sabres, red wings, or stars are headed out to their offseason tee times? are you left holding a big bucket of shippy feelings and you don’t know which direction to fling them in? well, the carolina hurricanes are here to teach you how to love again. c’mon, let’s fix you up with a canes ship for the playoffs.
If you like: bitchy cats who hate everybody you should try: sebastian aho/teuvo teräväinen
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finn it to win it, baby! aho/turbo has a very ace/aro life partners vibe, where both of them don’t like anybody but maybe deep down they would begrudgingly admit they like each other. please don’t watch this clip of them playing fortnite together... it’s so boring and they’re so happy. they must be in love because nobody else in the world would put up with this shit.
if you like: a flirty little minx and a confident older mentor you should try: vincent trocheck/martin nečas
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so you’re a simple guy/gal/nonbinary pal with simple needs, and those needs are a twink posting thirst traps in his boxer briefs and an older bearded guy ready to show him the ropes. i am sorry to tell you that andrei svechnikov/jordan martinook is very much not this ship. but! fortunately the canes offer you an even better alternative: sugar boo marty necas and paisan vincent trocheck. necas is the team baby despite being older than svechy, and trocheck was acquired from the panthers at the 2020 trade deadline and has responded by becoming a leading goal scorer who’s gunning for an A next year. check out this gif of nechy getting aggressive when a former teammate gives vinny a friendly little bump.
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if you like: a handsome young superstar and the lovable fourth line grinder who’ll fight for him you should try: jordan martinook/andrei svechnikov
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look, i already made you a wholeass primer about why this is the best ship in the entire goddamned nhl. if you’re not on board yet, i give up.
if you like: chirping as a love language you should try: dougie hamilton/warren foegele
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yes, i understand svech is in that photo too. that’s just a bonus. svech should be in every photo, frankly. but ignore him for a moment and let’s focus on the absolutely divine dynamic that dougie and foegs have when left alone together. foegs keeps bitching and bitching at dougie, trying to get a rise out of him, and dougie just placidly lets it roll off his back. exquisite. get married about it.
if you like: best friend boyfriends you should try: dougie/svech or brock/marty
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FINE i GUESS a lot of people ship svech/dougie but it is not as good a ship as svech/marty and i will die on that hill. however if you like sweet dorky college boyfriends who move to the big city and get a cat, these guys have you covered.
HOWEVER if you are more into rough and tumble BFFs who might have grown up together riding their quads around the gravel pit, let me offer you bottom-sixers brock mcginn and jordan martinook. these dudes are the beating heart of the carolina hurricanes. brock is practically indestructible and energy guy marty makes the entire team better regardless of his own stats.
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if you like: HIM BIG you should try: jani hakanpää self-insert
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the canes acquired a finnish old god at the trade deadline and we all immediately turned into this girl. this thor-faced motherfucker cooks elaborate meals and posts photos of them on his instagram, and he looks great in glasses. go on, y/n, indulge yourself.
however!
if you like: some real fairy tale bullshit you should try: jani hakanpää/sebastian aho
(full credit to @marmolita​ for conceptualizing this ship for me.) once upon a time, 18-year-old sebastian was spending one last season with kärpät before going on to tear it up with the hurricanes, and 23-year-old jani landed with kärpät after a couple of unimpressive seasons in the ahl. i imagine lumbering jani, his nhl career slipping out of his grasp, watching young phenom sebastian from across the ice, fast and sharp-toothed and absolutely off limits. (sebastian’s dad worked for the team!) fast forward five years and jani ends up in the canes locker room in the stall next to sebastian’s. only now sebastian’s all grown up and knows what he wants. delicious.
if you like: twink4twink you should try: andrei svechnikov/martin nečas
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these big-pawed puppies do a very enthusiastic chest bump before every game. once they went on a romantic getaway for spring break. sometimes i zoom in on this photo just to look at svechy’s shoulder freckles.
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sociallyawkwardsailor · 5 months
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I am going to annoy y'all so hard.
I've purchased NHL 23 (PS4/PS5 version), because I am tired of failing miserably at getting drafted by A Proper Team in NHL 22. This year's release has a more realistic draft system, instead of "lol you played like shit but here's the 1st overall pick anyway (and it's...fucking Buffalo *sigh*)!" Like that one lady with a cleaning method said "It it doesn't bring joy, you must yeet it."
So! After it downloads enough to be played, I will hyperfocus once again on my virtual NHL career.
Then, in an effort that will probably be abandoned by next month, I will work on creating background and stuff for my attempt at self-insert hockey fanfic and live out the dreams my parents couldn't afford and my leg now won't let me. Nobody will read it, and I will get zero feedback. Whatever. Somebody on AO3 will appreciate it; my other bullshit there gets read, at least (one even was bookmarked!).
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Wonder how long it'll take for someone to tell me to kill myself? Because god forbid I enjoy/do anything fandom related.
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parcoeurs · 3 years
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Extremely fascinated by your wag AU tag 👀.
thanks bestie so am i.
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okay lmao so this isn't an actual fic that'll ever be written but. i was talking to my friend about it who still hasn't finished dts season 3 unfortunately but it means that i've switched around ages and years etc. i promise this has the potential to be a fun and sexy time but there's just s o much background shit that needs to be discussed. tw for mentions of irl deaths etc:
but pierre & charles meeting when they're 5-6 (which is what i think charles actually says irl but someone said it might've been closer to when they were 10-11? regardless.) and charles' dad passes away when they're 9-10, and jules when they're 13-14 and charles quits racing then. (fyi i know that irl jules passed away first)
he thinks about quitting when his dad passes away but keeps going with help from jules. so when the accident etc happens, it's not even like an active decision he ponders. he just knows there's no way he'll race again.
and pierre's been with him throughout everything, his best friend who he can talk to when he can't bear looking at his own family. so he doesn't understand when pierre tells him he's going to keep racing. when charles had told him he was never going to get into a kart ever again, pierre had nodded, grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. important to note that they're barely teenagers rn so yes charles feels betrayed that pierre isn't feeling the same things he is and isn't choosing the same future for himself etc.
they have a huge fight, lots of crying, lots of dramatic teenage angst. but it ultimately ends with charles shutting pierre out of his life. which is easier said than done when it's your best friend whose family is super close with yours. but it works because pierre is off racing around the world and charles has done all he can to never have to think about that stuff.
so charles goes to school, is doing uni somewhere in europe. studies something generic like business or maybe if i'm feeling suuuuper indulgent i will have him major in environmental studies like moi <3 pointedly does not come to monaco during grand prix weekend or the week before or the week after.
and then anthoine passes away too. (they're 20-21 now)
they see each other again at the funeral but don't talk, they meet up afterwards. pierre breaking down in charles' arms, clutching at his back, telling him he was right. pierre should've quit, he can't do this anymore either. they haven't said a word to each other in 7 years but charles still knows pierre, and knows that this isn't actually what pierre wants. or what he should do. (charles vaguely knows pierre's in f1 but doesn't know he's with redbull, doesn't know redbull's the top team etc)
"you can still do this, you will," charles tells him.
"not without you again."
so then comes the challenge of mending their relationship while still working through the shared trauma, and the Layers of past trauma. and also just the general awkwardness that comes with a friendship breakup/makeup situation you know! they can't just act like nothing happened but would it be easier that way?
they start texting first, then they play fifa or cod together. (sometimes pierre's british friend lewis joins too.)
slowly slowly slowly, they become friends again and then inseparable too. maybe even closer than they were before and charles only now realizes how much he missed pierre. while pierre still can't believe he has charles back now, it's as good as he let himself imagine.
the part i'm unsure about is if i would want pierre's career trajectory to be the same or not. because i think the demotion adds SUCH a painful but interesting aspect to his ~storyline. but ultimately i think maybe he just doesn't get the second seat immediately. spends more years with toro rosso/alpha tauri before getting "called up" (sorry i have no idea what the proper terminology is haha ignore the nba/nhl terms).
he invites charles to his first race in the red bull and charles says no. immediately. pierre's quiet on the other side of the phone, internally thinking he messed this up somehow. he thought things were going well and he takes this as charles doesn't want to see him. but he knows there's a lot more that's stopping charles and he also knows charles will definitely pull back if pierre asks about the other stuff. so he moves right along, asking charles about school, the weather, and tries not to let it show in his voice that he misses his best friend and needs him too.
"i'm going to try to watch," charles says, after pierre's yawned goodnight through the phone and is waiting for him to hang up. because you know pierre's not going to hang up first.
"what?"
"the race. i'm going to try. goodnight!" mentally charles slams the phone shut but really he just smashes at the red button before shoving it under his bed and looking at his hands trying to get answers for what he just did.
his only relief is that he didn't promise pierre he would watch, just that he would try. couldn't even choke out a, "good luck." (insert long paragraph about charles letting pierre down or thinking he has).
he only watches qualifying. pierre p3. already knows on saturday that there's no way he can watch the actual race.
but on sunday when he's supposed to be going over his notes for his climate change science & policy course (yes.... i did it...) he finds himself with his heart in his mouth refreshing formula1 dot com. watches the random names move up and down while keeping his eyes on 10 - gasly. (starts shaking for a second when he sees pierre's name drop until the IN PIT sign comes up across his name. fellas the thing about triggers is-- anyways.)
the scariest part is that by the time he's scrolled through all of red bull's socials to look at pictures of pierre on the podium (he finished p2 sorry i know this truly does not matter), he's forgotten about the race. the anxiety sits small in the back of his throat, his happiness for pierre is bright and loud in front of him. charles sends him a message, asking him to call whenever he can and adds a blue & red heart emoji which feels like a Big Step. but basically pierre calls and acts like nothing has happened since the last time they talked. mentions the breakfast he had in detail as if he didn’t get a podium in his first race with red bull. finally with a big team. but charles embarrassingly realizes that maybe his text didn't exactly imply in literally any way whatsoever that he knows the results of the race and was trying to congratulate pierre with this call. charles probably feels so embarrassed at this point but somehow still can't manage to say anything about the race until the next day maybe.
maybe texts pierre, good job. or, you were great. or something about him and not the race. or maybe reposts a picture from red bull but not one of pierre in his car, pointedly. only one of him on the podium. and pierre probably reposts it with the squid emoji and/or my favourite sentence in the world, merci petit calamaro.
charles cries when he reads it.
not to be lazy now but [insert 10k words of them building their friendship. meeting up in monaco with both of their families. meeting in milan or london or paris idk where pierre would live. but he flies charles out. not on a private jet because charles flat out refused lol. not because he's an environmentally conscious king he's just too, embarrassed? overwhelmed? by pierre doing Things Like That for him. even though he wants it lol. like when he graduates he's soooo annoyed that pierre couldn't come celebrate immediately because it was race week. but when he comes home his apartment is filled with flowers (roses, his favourite) and balloons and a giant teddy bear as tall as charles. and he DOES post 12 instagram stories to go with the other 30 from his other friends congratulating him. so yeah charles goes through a lot of personal growth and therapy. to the point where he's watching pierre race again, and waiting for him to invite him to a race again!!! do not even think about actual dates i'm fucking begging you but the one he goes to is monza :))))]
ultimately charles' path to understand/accepting/moving on from, his trauma, happens once he has pierre back in his life. it's also encouraged by pierre, but it's also not entirely because of him. not sure how to word that but yeah. these things are happening at the same time but charles still has to go through them by himself.
pierre takes him on romantic dates all around the world and charles doesn't realize that's what they are. fully in his bestie vibes only mood while pining for pierre in a way he doesn't even quite understand. almost a self deprecating, jeez whoever gets to date pierre is going to be so lucky :/
fanpage on ig: met pierre's alleged bf he's so pretty and sweet, i complimented his shoes and he was so nice. charles reading that: i didnt know he was dating someone :( why wouldn't he tell me :( well at least someone complimented my shoes today :(
pierre doesn't necessarily think they're dating, but he does know charles doesn't quite realize what they're doing so he's just waiting for him to come to terms with it.
not to give this au 10 different subplots but yeah that miscommunication plot becomes our prize for surviving through the first part of this.
but yeah at the last race of the year, that pierre wins because i said so? charles finds him before he goes on to the podium, kisses his helmet. says i love you, i'm so proud of you.
THEN, finally, charles does become pierre's wag. we made it kids. we did it joe.
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alicechugstea · 1 month
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Sid anon here!
Oh my god I have so many things to catch up on but my brain is deciding the order which is,,, usually incorrect in terms of importance so thanks a lot brain matter
Heads up for reader fics! Usually the reader/Y/N doesn’t have a set description when it comes to physical appearance! (Personal headcanons are fine since it’s different for everyone!) Otherwise it would be considered an OC fic! (Of course this isn’t like,,, fanfic law but it’s generally more like courtesy? Sort of??? If you have a specific reader look in mind feel free! It would be appreciated as clarity if you mentioned if reader had a specific ethnicity beforehand. If not then there’s no need!)
HOLY SHIT THE ESSAY YOU JUST POSTED?!???? I CAN RELATE SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA. Brooo I completely understand where you’re coming from it’s not even funny my hands are on my head screaming I FEEL YOU AND I SEE YOU YOU’RE SO VALID
HIIII HELLO I MISS YOOOOU!!!
yeyeye my uhhh mma!reader au is specifically non-european coded!! i made of a note of it in pt 1 and my masterlist ❤️ it’s actually my firstborn teehee…largely bc like, i got so excited reading reader fic and stuff but it got harder to i guess get really emotionally invested in as a x reader fic instead of say, just an x oc fic, and i eventually figured out it was bc majority of the reader inserts are european/white american coded, and also a lot of slim, blonde/brunette young women in their early 20s with more glamorous (model, actress ect) jobs
as a uhhhh….short australian born chinese woman turning 30 this year, who’s a high school teaching and currently leg pressing 135kg, it was really hard for me to write a reader fic where reader was related to an existing nhl player, or even as an asian woman in america bc the experiences are just sooo different 🥲🥲🥲 and i really really really wanted to wriitieeeee
so i went u know what, if my heart and pussy aint in it, it aint in it 😔 so i wrote and started that au specifically for that lil niche teehee ❤️ i’m a blue belt in jiujitsu, have done mma, boxing and wrestling, and i’ve done some coaching too! so idk it just feels good to be seen! (and i hope other non-european/asian nhl girlies are enjoying it too!!!)
ALSO ALSO VERY UNFORTUNATELY the more i develop a specific au (eg cookie, mma!reader) the more and more they become their own lil character in my head and then its like….is this reader fic anymore…or oc…or self insert…have i been lying with my tags…..am i a fraud…..🥲🥲🥲
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