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sugarandspisces-writes · 16 days

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Kiss It Better Pt. I

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: Melissa engages in a game of kickball with her students and takes a nasty tumble. With the help of her colleagues, she makes her way to you, the school nurse.

Word Count: 4.6k

CW/TW: Mentions of hospitals and injuries

Although Melissa was a seasoned teacher, sometimes it was challenging to get into the swing of things after a nice vacation. While she was used to instructing two classes, the job still came with its fair share of tough days. The holiday break was much needed, considering it gave her time to recuperate from the first semester.

Originally, she hadn’t planned on going anywhere, and was fully content with spending two weeks at home with her feet kicked up. That was until she heard you complaining about the brutal winter weather. You weren't native to the north, and though you'd lived there for some time, you hadn't adjusted to the seasonal changes.

The more you mentioned it, the more she realized the feeling was mutual. She decided it wouldn't hurt to ring in the New Year differently, so the two of you brainstormed destinations and settled on a spur-of-the-moment trip to Florida. She had a guy who could get her discounted plane tickets and a hotel room for little to nothing. Before she knew it, she was getting sunkissed on Palm Beach. She’d be making a ton of ziti to return the favor, but the bottomless margaritas and adrenaline-filled nights at the casino were more than worth it.

It was now a week later and with her mind still on island time, she hoped for a relaxed first day back. The class was rowdy when they arrived, but that was to be expected. They were excited to be with each other after a couple of weeks away, but luckily they could themselves down without much of her guidance. So far the day was going well, and she was teaching her last morning lesson before recess.

The class was reading silently, making it the perfect time to catch up on some emails. Most of them were from parents, but she had one from Ava with the schedule of upcoming meetings for the remainder of the year. The first one was tomorrow morning meaning she had to wake up extra early.

She rolled her eyes, and the expression only intensified as she skimmed through the rest of the message. According to the principal, breakfast would be provided. However, the last time Ava promised to provide food, the “breakfast” in question was fun-sized boxes of cereal from the cafeteria. She would definitely need her extra-large Stanley Tucci mug to get through tomorrow morning.

She had one last email to read and was delighted to see your name attached to it. The message was marked as a priority, declaring the content to be urgent. It was a reminder for all teachers, asking them to collect and return the forms the students received before the break. As the school nurse, part of your job was ensuring that the kids had updated health records on file.

As for Melissa's class, just about everyone remembered to have their guardians fill out your forms, and she planned to give them to you later today. That prompted her to text you so she could see what your schedule looked like.

M: Hey, I’ll bring those forms to you during my planning period

↪ You sure? I don't mind stopping by your class later

You knew someone was bound to forget to deliver the forms, so you’d have to snag them at the end of the day.

M: I’ll bring them, hon. One less trip you’ll have to make.

Truthfully, the redhead wanted an excuse to see you, and her planning period conveniently took place when your day came to a lull.

↪ Thanks! You’re amazing!!

Melissa’s lips curled upward at your compliment.

M: I might sit with you for a few when I come down. Is that okay?

She was considerate of your job, and no matter how much she wanted to see you during the day, she never wanted to interfere with your work.

↪ Of course that’s okay. You’re always welcome. Just let me know when you’re headed down

For the most part, your relationship was under wraps. Everyone who needed to know was informed, and everyone else was left to assume. And assume they did, because your affinity for each other was a hot topic around the school. Abbott loved to talk, but Melissa had eyes and ears all over–literally.

She’d become acquaintances with a couple members of the camera crew, and their knowledge combined with Barb’s allowed her to obtain information from virtually every square inch of the building. Just about everything that was said made its way back to the source. However, it didn’t bother either of you. If anything, it was amusing, and you found fun in keeping everyone guessing.

Engaged in her reverie, Melissa didn't notice the child standing directly beside her until the small voice spoke. “Ms. Schemmenti.”

Startled by their presence, she nearly jumped out of her seat. A hand clutched at her chest causing the young girl to laugh. “Jeez, Mya!”

“Sorry.” She motioned toward the clock on the opposite side of the room. “Isn't it time for recess?

Melissa looked to where her student was pointing and saw it was 11:20 AM. Crap. They were supposed to be gone five minutes ago. She thanked the girl for telling her, then stood up to alert everyone else.

"Alright, my little eagles, it’s time for recess! We’re a little late because I got distracted, but you guys aren’t surprised, right?” A unison of “no” echoed around the room. “That was a rhetorical question, but thank you for the enthusiastic responses.”

She answered queries about the meaning of ‘rhetorical’, while everyone got their coats on. It was considerably cold, but not cold enough for the school to cancel outside activities. Melissa didn’t mind since this was her kid’s way of getting their energy out and she always made sure everyone had enough clothing on to protect them from the chill.

Once everyone was ready, they walked down the hall in formation. Melissa’s class was large, and while it could be hard to wrangle them all, they did a pretty good job at keeping each other in check.

“I can’t believe we lost a whole 5 minutes,” Daniel whined from the back of the line. It was quiet, but Melissa still heard, so she slowed her steps to meet him once he strolled by.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and said, “I’m sorry, buddy. I’ll make it up to you, okay?” When he didn’t respond she spoke again. “How about this? I’ll do a class vote, and then youse can decide what I owe you.”

Even though the boy accepted her apology, he still hung his head low. Melissa squeezed his shoulder for good measure, then let him free as they approached the doors that led outside.

“Melissa!” Janine shouted, waving the redhead over to her. “I was looking for you guys. What happened?”

“Hey, kid. I was reading emails and lost track of time.” Melissa explained as she walked over to the second grade teacher.

“I had a lot of those too! Did you see Ava sent that one email, like, three times? It was so weird,” she laughed and Melissa agreed. “I bet your kids were sad about being late, huh?”

“You shoulda seen their faces when I told them they lost some time,” Melissa shared. “I might as well have told them Santa wasn’t real.”

Janine stuck her bottom lip out in a pout, knowing the exact look Melissa was referring to. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m still getting used to the flow of things too. The first day back is always a little rocky for me.”

“I’m usually okay, but I don’t know what happened today.” Melissa shrugged, looking off into the distance (Except she knew exactly what happened, and it was you).

“Well, they seem pretty happy now that they’re out here, so that’s good,” Janine noted.

“Yeah, but I’m sure I’ll be making it up to them for the next few weeks.” Melissa sighed and Janine nodded in agreement, knowing how relentless kids could be.

“Oh, one of your students is coming over here. I spoke too soon, it looks like he has a bone to pick with you.” She nudged the woman in her side.

Melissa narrowed her eyes before turning toward the student. “Hey, Daniel. What’s up?”

“Can you please play with us?” The little boy asked politely.

She looked across the playground and saw a group of students eyeing her expectantly. She couldn’t deny that it tugged at her heartstrings to see them so eager. However, playing with them wasn’t exactly on the agenda today.

“Oh, I don’t know, hon. There isn't much time left, and I’m sure you don’t want me slowing your game down.”

“Please, we really want you to play. And you said you’d make it up to us, remember?” He reminded her.

This wasn’t her ideal way of making it up, but when Melissa looked down at the boy’s big, hopeful eyes, she couldn’t say no. She looked toward Janine and of course, she was looking at her with just as much expectation as the kids. The next thing Melissa knew, she was involved in a lively kickball game.

“Ms. Schemmenti, Ivy’s cheating!” Tyler yelled as soon as Melissa stepped up to the makeshift base. “I caught the ball, so that means she’s out!”

“I’m not cheating! The ball slipped out of your hands, so I’m still in the game!” Ivy yelled back at him.

“Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater!” He teased. “You’re out!”

Melissa knew that it wouldn’t be an elementary school game if there wasn’t a little drama, but she had to hold her laughter back as she listened to their banter. “Okay, that’s enough, guys. Now, Tyler, tell me what happened again.”

“Ivy kicked the ball and I caught it, so that means she’s out.” He explained to her.

Instead of handling the situation herself, she decided to play the mediator. “Okay, How many people saw Tyler catch the ball?” Almost everyone raised their hand, so she turned to the girl to give her a sad smile. “Sorry, hon. You gotta follow the rules.”

“No fair!” The girl crossed her arms over her chest and began to stomp away.

Before she got far, Melissa gave the child a proposition. “Hey, how about I let you run the bases for me? That way you can stay in the game.” Quite frankly, she wasn’t in the running mood, and due to the cold, her joints were stiff. She also didn’t want the child to be in a bad mood for the rest of the day. This way, everyone got what they wanted.

“Deal!” Her mood instantly changed, and Melissa received a wide grin and a high five.

“All right, Ivy’s gonna run for me.” She announced to the group.

“I think that’s against the rules.” Someone piped up from behind her.

“Well, I’ve got a bad knee, so I ain’t running anywhere.” The teacher emphasized her point by wagging her index finger from side to side.

“Well, Ms. Schemmenti, you did say we have to follow the rules.” Ivy recited the woman's recent words.

Melissa closed her eyes and released a sigh at the girl's remark, now regretting using that exact phrase. “Alright, Alright.” The teacher relented. As much as she wanted to disagree with the girl, she was right, and it would be unfair to go against her word. “I’ll run, but go easy on me.”

“Okay, everyone get into position!” Tyler yelled, alerting his classmates that the game was about to start. He rolled the ball down to the teacher, and the woman gave her best kick without using her full power. They were undoubtedly faster than her, but she was certainly stronger, and everyone needed a fair shot.

She then ran to first base and was pleased with herself at how quickly she got there. She hadn’t played a game like this in a while, so it was gratifying to see that she still could. The confidence boost allowed her to make it past the next two bases. Tyler hurled the ball in an attempt to get her out, and she dodged it.

Melissa soon realized that was a mistake once she tripped. The heel of her boot got caught on an uneven patch of grass and she failed to regain balance. Her ankle rolled inward and she collapsed with a thud. A series of gasps filled the air, and within seconds she was surrounded by concerned children. They were too scared to touch her, but that didn’t stop them from getting help.

“Teacher down! Teacher down!” A shrill voice shouted at the top of their lungs.

While Melissa was thankful for the effort, she was unhappy about the attention she now received. Embarrassment was an emotion she rarely felt, but today it was warranted. Listening to her students' frantic chatter gave her something to focus on other than the blush burning her face.

“Okay, let’s back up! Give Ms. Schemmenti some space, please!” Janine's voice of reason rang through all the chatter.

The kids inched away, but only far enough so Janine could have access. It was clear they were protective of their teacher, as they wouldn't take their eyes away for a second in case something were to happen.

Janine held her hand over her mouth as she kneeled in front of the woman. “Oh my God, Melissa! What happened? Are you okay? Can you get up?”

Once the crowd dissipated some, the woman felt she could move freely. She sat up, dusted her hands off, then brushed the debris from her clothes.

“M’fine,” she muttered in response to Janine’s frantic questioning.

“Are you sure? You fell pretty hard.” Janine noted her flushed cheeks and she could only imagine how she felt. Being that she’d embarrassed herself countless times, she had an idea, though she’d never been in this exact situation.

Melissa smoothed her hair back into place, ignoring the sympathetic look on the younger woman’s face. The expression made her want to crawl into a hole and never return. “Thank you for that riveting statement.”

She reached out for Janine’s hand, a silent invitation for her assistance, and felt herself being tugged into an upright position. She hadn't felt it at first, but once she planted her right foot on the ground, a searing pain shot through it. Reflexively, her arm slung across the shorter woman’s shoulder to keep herself steady. She hissed, then hung her head low in an attempt to conceal the pain on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Anxiety laced the junior teacher’s voice, but Melissa just ignored her, unable to simultaneously be in pain and answer questions. She took another step, thinking she could walk it off, but she was sorely mistaken. A groan slipped from her mouth and the sound shocked her as much as it did Janine.

The latter's steps halted, almost causing the injured woman to topple over. “Okay, you’re obviously hurt. I think you should go see Y/N.”

At the mention of your name, the redhead straightened her posture. There was no way in hell she would go to your office and interrupt your day for something minor like this. She wasn't bleeding or dying, so she wouldn't have you fussing over her when you had students to care for. “I'll be okay. I just need to make it to my classroom.”

Janine bit the inside of her cheek, a telltale sign that her worry was increasing. “I don’t know, Melissa. I think you should let them take a look at it.”

She tried to stand on her own to prove a point, but she simply couldn’t do it. The pain only grew with her efforts, and tears began to prick at her eyes. “Just let me sit down for a bit, okay? I’ll go see Y/N after lunch if it still hurts.”

Janine settled for the compromise and recruited a teacher to watch their kids while she got Melissa inside. It was a challenging effort, but miraculously, they made it back safely. They received a few strange looks from other staff members, but Janine warded their concerns away with a smile. Once they arrived, she helped Melissa get settled at her desk.

“Don’t worry about your class, I’ll bring them back,” Janine assured her. “Do you need anything while I’m here? I could get Barbara if she’s–”

Melissa immediately shook her head. The very last thing she needed was for Barb to find out. “That's okay.”

Janine gave a wary look in return, as she wasn’t expecting her coworker to deny that offer. “Are you sure?”

She huffed, sick of the questions, and took a beat before answering. “Just bring my kids back, please. That’s all I need right now.”

She wasn’t in any position to argue with that, so she accepted the task. “Okay, I’ll have them back in no time.”

“Thanks, pipsqueak,” Melissa said, causing the woman to take on a disgruntled look. Though she wasn't happy about the circumstances, she switched her tone to show her true appreciation. “Really, Janine, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled, happy that she could complete a good deed for the day.

Moments later, Melissa was reunited with her rambunctious class. They came pouring in, not even bothering to take their coats off as they filled the empty space around her desk. Despite the considerable change in climate, they were too invested in her situation to care.

“We heard you fell.”

“Are the second graders in trouble?”

“Did you break your leg?!”

“Are you going to the hospital?”

“Who’s gonna take us to lunch?”

She broke her silence to address the last comment. “Really, Elijah? That’s what’s on your mind?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. S, but I’m starving.” He rubbed his belly in broad strokes.

“Don’t worry, you’re gonna get to lunch on time.” While that was great news, it only answered one of their burning questions. They continued to stare her down and she caved at the sincerity. “I know I probably scared some of you, but I’m okay. My leg is not broken, and no, I will not be going to the hospital. Most importantly, no one is in trouble, capisce?”

When she received answers of understanding, she moved on to the next order of business. “Now, let me see who’s gonna walk youse to lunch.”

“Ms. Teagues can take us, or Mrs. Howard!” A student announced excitedly, waving in the direction of the door where both teachers were standing. However, Melissa was so focused on consoling her class and making sure they got fed, that she didn’t notice their presence.

She tried to roll toward the class phone, but it was on the opposite side of the desk. The feat was too large, so she grabbed her cell instead. She scrolled to Janine’s contact, internally swearing that this would be the last favor she asked of her. “Mrs. Howard might be busy, hon, so I think Ms. Teagues is our best bet.”

Elijah grabbed the woman’s attention again. “No, she's not. Mrs. Howard is right there.” He nodded toward the outskirts of the crowd.

Barbara’s deep eyes shone with concern as they met Melissa’s, but the redhead could only scrunch her face in confusion. What the hell? she thought, but it all made sense once she saw Janine sporting a guilt-ridden expression.

Her lips thinned into a smile as she tried to keep her composure. “Ms. Teagues, do you mind taking them to lunch? I’d appreciate it so much.”

Janine knew what that look meant, so she was quick to speak. “Not at all! Come on guys, grab your lunches if you brought one today.” Once everyone was ready, they made a swift exit because she didn't want to face Melissa’s wrath.

As the last footsteps trickled out, quiet fell over the teachers. Barbara’s eyes never left her best friend, inspecting her from head to toe, watching as Melissa twiddled her thumbs. It irked Barb that she wasn’t paying the slightest attention and she would not tolerate being blatantly ignored. “Melissa Schemmenti! Are you going to tell me what's going on?”

Melissa proceeded to avoid eye contact. She picked up a pen along with a stack of papers as if she were about to grade them. Her petulance sent Barb over the edge. If she didn’t want to tell her, that was fine, but she was tired of this little game.

“You know, I was trying to give you a chance to tell me yourself, but it seems you would rather act like a child.” The woman smirked, knowing her next words would get a reaction. “Janine already told me what happened.”

“I told her to keep her mouth shut!” Melissa curled her hands into fists and banged them against the wood. “I’m gonna kill that girl!”

“Not with one working ankle, you won’t,” Barbara quipped.

“I'll find someone to do it for me.” She shot back, not in the mood for jokes.

Barbara just rolled her eyes, disregarding her friend's dramatic nature. “So what’s your plan? Are you going to roll around in this chair all day?”

“Just leave it alone, will you?” Melissa was getting tired of the third degree from everyone. If she wanted to sit in her room all day, why did it matter to them? It was her injury, not theirs.

“I will not leave it alone! Not until you go see Y/N.”

She looked the older woman directly in her eyes for the first time today. “I’m not goin’, Barb.”

“You will, or I’ll tell them to come to you. Better yet, I'll drag you to an urgent care.” Barbara crossed her arms and gave Melissa a daring look.

“Oh, now you’re out of your mind,” Melissa scoffed. Even though they were in her classroom, if she could get up and walk away, she’d leave Barb right there with her delusions.

The woman gasped audibly at the insinuation that she was crazy. “Trust me, you haven’t seen me out of my mind.”

“You sure? 'Cause that sounds pretty insane to me.” She twisted her pen in a circle near her head, showcasing how absurd the idea sounded.

“No, Melissa, what's insane is you sitting here with an injury, making no attempts to seek medical attention, when there's a perfectly capable nurse in the building!” Her hands moved fervently as she spoke, the pearls around her neck rattling from the action. “Since you won't go on your own, I’ll get someone to take you.” With that, she marched out of the room, having had enough of her obstinacy.

“Barb, don’t you dare!” She yelled, but there was no use as the woman was halfway down the hall due to the speed she was walking.

She groaned in frustration, not faring well with having one working foot. The dull ache was a constant reminder of what occurred, and though she knew it was in her best interest to see you, she wasn't in enough pain to seek your help. But leave it to her colleagues to put their noses into her business.

She reached for her purse and rifled through it before pulling out a compact mirror. If she was going to be seen in this state, she wanted to make sure she looked presentable. As she met her reflection, she frowned. Her hair was out of place, her eyelashes were wonky, and there were a few spots where her makeup had smudged. She fixed what she could, applying lip gloss to finish her look. As she ran a brush through her strands, footsteps approached her room.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” She threw her head back as Gregory came through her door. “Why are you here?”

Gregory almost looked as confused as her, and as he prepared to speak, Barb cut him off.

“To escort you to Y/N's office.” She smiled kindly, directing her pearly whites in Gregory's direction.

Melissa side-eyed the man, adding a mean mug to show her dismay. “But Barb, I don't need—”

“Ah, ah, no buts." She held a hand up to silence her. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go teach, but I expect you to have your injuries mended when you return.” She didn't walk away until she received final confirmation from Gregory.

“Oh, yeah, I'll make sure of it,” he promised. Though he was content with minding his business, he'd only agreed to this because Barb wouldn't take no for an answer.

Melissa sighed as the man moved to stand behind her, in preparation to wheel her out. She turned around so he could understand the grave meaning behind her words. “Just take me there. Don't ask any questions and don't tell anyone what you saw.”

“Oh, I already know how you roll.” After receiving another dirty look from the redhead, he noticed his poor choice of words. He tucked his lips into his mouth, then bowed his head before saying, “I'm sorry.”

You didn’t expect the first day back to be so crazy, but it had been jam-packed with injuries. Nose bleeds, headaches, fevers, stomach aches, you name it. You didn’t mind though because it made the day go faster. You had one more student to tend to before your break, so you decided to clean your office before their arrival. You disinfected the cots and countertops, as well as your little waiting area, and then you took inventory of your supplies and stocked up on whatever you’d need for the last half of the day.

“Hey, nurse Y/N!” Melissa’s student, Daniel, waved excitedly as he entered your office. He gave you a quick hug before retreating to his original spot.

“Hey, buddy! How was your break?” You loved hearing about what the kids did during their time off. He told you about the trip he took to visit family in New York, and how he got to spend the holidays with his grandmother who he hadn’t seen since he was a baby. He also mentioned all the good food he ate and the presents he received. “That’s awesome! It sounds like you had a great time.”

“Yeah, it was pretty great. What did you do?” The curious boy asked.

“I went to Florida,” you said casually, hoping to get a reaction out of him. When he gasped in shock, you flashed a grin in his direction.

“No way! That’s so much cooler than New York.” Daniel was infatuated with Florida, on the account of Disney World, and he made it known that he would save every penny ever given to him in hopes of being able to afford a ticket to the attraction.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t go see Mickey Mouse without you.” You knew the question was on the tip of his tongue. “But it was a pretty cool trip.”

“Ms. Schemmenti went to Florida too!” He informed you, still looking at you with stars in his eyes.

You smiled as he told you the bits and pieces that Melissa shared with his class, minus the details of her gambling adventures. However, you weren’t sure she left out 100% of the details, because Daniel recalled her saying that she would incorporate some new card games into their math lessons to “teach them some new strategies”. Leave it to Melissa to teach her students how to outsmart each other.

“It sounds like she had a lot of fun!” You exclaimed, taking in the events as if you weren’t there to experience them firsthand. Her students were ridiculously smart, so you were ready for him to catch on to the similarities in your story, but he didn’t.

You busied yourself with preparing his medication so he could make his way to the cafeteria. Daniel had cystic fibrosis, so he took pancreatic enzymes to aid his absorption of nutrients. He took them before every meal and snack, so he was a frequent flyer in your office. “Alright, dude, I got your pills ready. You just need to get some water.” He gladly accepted the paper cup from your hand and walked toward the water fountain.

You looked around the room as he took his meds, and the absence of another child caught your attention. Normally, Melissa utilized the buddy system to ensure that her students made it to their destination safely. “Did you walk here by yourself?”

“No, Ms. Teagues walked us to lunch today.”

You scrunched your eyebrows in pure confusion. “Why was Ms. Teagues taking you to lunch?”

“Ms. Schemmenti hurt herself so she couldn't take us,” he explained.

Hearing Melissa’s name in the same breath as the word ‘hurt’ made your heart rate pick up, but you kept a poker face. “Really? How’d that happen?”

A guilty expression crossed his face, and he released a deep breath before speaking. “Well, we were playing kickball during recess and she fell. It was kind of scary, but then she got up and everything was okay. At least I think she’s okay.”

“What makes you say that?” You tried to get as much information as you could before the bell rang, signaling that it was time for the younger kids’ lunch.

“She told us she wasn’t in pain, but I don’t think that’s true.”

You hadn’t assessed the woman yet, but you agreed with his statement because you knew how Melissa was. She worked hard to keep up her tough persona, but even the students could see past it sometimes. “You guys really roughed her up out there, huh?”

The boy shrugged sheepishly. “We didn’t mean for her to get hurt. She’s one of our favorite teachers, and we just wanted to have some fun.”

You could see he truly felt bad, so you attempted to cheer him up. “It was very nice of you guys to include her. I’m sure she appreciated that.” You smiled. “Don’t feel too bad, okay?”

He nodded, and with that, the bell rang. You walked him to the exit and sent him on his way, but now without a hug goodbye. “Have a good lunch. I’ll see you later for a snack.”

Once he made it down the hallway, you focused on the sight directly to your left: Melissa sitting in her desk chair with Gregory at her side, standing against the wall, as if he were her bodyguard (though that would be a pointless duty because everyone knew Melissa didn’t need a guard).

You motioned them into your office so they'd be out of the crossfire of hungry kids. The pair looked at you with blank faces, and you stared at them with your hands on your hips. “Well, what do we have here?”

A/N: Hey, how are ya? It’s been a while and I’ve missed writing immensely. I'm a little nervous about posting again, but I hope this was worth the wait. Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading! P.S. Special thanks to everyone who voted on the poll <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #sugarᥫ᭡writes

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ckret2 · 4 months

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Chapter 34 of human Bill Cipher not making friends with Stan during his imprisonment in the Mystery Shack, featuring: the tooth fairy and her dentist attempting to steal Bill's teeth in the middle of the night. Stan would care a lot less if he weren't still handcuffed to Bill. And also: Stan and Bill have a friendly chat. As you can see.

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Even though Bill and Stan were trying to watch the same TV as they had dinner, Bill refused to sit in the living room with Stan; so he sat on the bottom step of the stairs in the entryway, Stan perched on the end of the couch, and they strung the handcuffs around the doorway with their little plastic microwave dinner trays balanced on their knees.

Both of their dinners had come out undercooked. Both of them were too proud to complain.

After picking through maybe a third of his meal, Bill decided he'd rather go to bed hungry than eat something he didn't enjoy, dropped his tray on the floor, and kicked it into the kitchen. "Hey Stanley, still glad you went with the cuffs instead of the bracelets?"

"Shut up."

Bill smirked victoriously, and looked back to the TV. "No mayonnaise in Ireland."

"What?"

Bill pointed at the screen and the rows of blank letters waiting for contestants to fill them in. "The round that just started. That's the solution."

"Oh." Stan counted out all the blank letters, frowned, and said unconfidently, "It can't be that. It doesn't make any sense."

"You're wrong," Bill said lightly; and then fell silent, running the tip of his tongue over the new gold spots on his teeth.

When the contestants had guessed enough letters that one could hesitantly offer, "Is it... 'no mayonnaise in Ireland'?" Bill smirked triumphantly at the sound of Stan's silence. He just barely waited until the next board of blank letters flashed on the screen, and then announced, "Tip your waiter."

Stan counted the letters under his breath. "Man. I thought I was good at this, but we'd clean up if we put you on this show. No one would ever figure out how you're cheating."

Bill laughed. "Listen to you! If you were Ford, you'd just be mad that I'm giving away all the answers before you can guess. That's the great thing about you, Stanley: you don't get irritated at me for stupid little reasons. You're more fun." He took a deep breath and shouted, "Hey Ford, did you hear that?! Stan's the fun twin—!"

"Keep it down, you idiot. Ford's in the basement, he can't hear you." Stan had thought Bill was finally sobering up from the sedative; maybe not. (Then again, maybe this was just what he was like sober.) "And what are you talking about? You irritate me all the time!"

"Oh, well, I guess I just don't care when you're irritated." Bill laughed.

Stan grumbled, planted his chin in his hand, and tried to focus on Cash Wheel. It was difficult when he already knew the solution.

He tolerated the silence for less than a minute before sighing, looking toward the doorway, and demanding, "What's with you, anyway? Why are you so obsessed with my brother?"

Bill spluttered in disbelief. Stan could feel his handcuff chain jerk over. Voice even shriller than usual, Bill said, "Excuse m—Excuse me?! Obsessed? Moi?! I don't know what you're talking about!" He forced a loud laugh.

"If Ford's in the room, he's the only one you talk to, and when he isn't here you're yelling across the house for him—"

"Is it obsession to sometimes pay a little more attention to the human here I happen to know best and to whom I happen to be a teacher, muse, and friend—"

"Oh that's a load of bull," Stan snapped, "you're not any of those things! Friend? Friend? He wants you dead, you crazy—"

"Well if he does," Bill said, louder still, "then wouldn't it make perfect sense to keep my eye on the guy who killed me? There's no big mystery—"

"That's it! That's just it!" Stan tossed down his TV dinner and stood so he could face Bill properly. "He didn't kill you alone, remember? That was a two-man con you fell for! But you keep talking like Ford was the only one there!"

Without bothering to stand, Bill looked up at Stan and said, quite confidently, "Only one person killed me. You're just the place where I was killed."

"I wh...?" Stan fell silent, blinking at Bill in disbelief.

"Do you even remember what happened inside your brain? After you took my hand?" Bill asked. "You don't, do you?"

Stan glowered at Bill, but he shut his mouth and said nothing.

"I knew it." Bill laughed nastily. "We were both trapped in there when Fordsy fired the gun. Completely powerless. You were weeping and begging for a way out when the flames got too close, but there was nothing I could do by then—"

"All right," Stan took a threatening step closer, "I know that that didn't happen! I would never—"

Bill leaned back, hands raised palm out in appeasement, "Okay okay okay! All right, you got me—just embellishing the story a little—we actually had a big psychic laser battle. Imagined up all kinds of futuristic weapons. It was very 90's action movie. You did... fine, you were fine."

Stan considered that. "Ehh... sure, that sounds more like me."

"But it was all imaginary," Bill snapped. "It was a vast illusion! At that point there was nothing either of us could do to the other. We were just two victims locked inside a burning house as it came down around us. You didn't kill me, you never even had the power to kill me."

"Huh." That was all Stan said. But he kept looking at Bill, frowning distrustfully, studying him.

Bill's shoulders slowly went up under the pressure of Stan's gaze. "Oh—oh wow, okay, I see what's going on!" He gave Stan a crooked, mean smile. "You're jealous, aren't you? You thought offering up your body to be the scene of a murder finally made you a co-star instead of a sidekick! All your lives, Stanford got more attention from daddy, more attention from the teachers, more attention from the whole world... and you thought you'd finally get at least a little attention from the big bad living nightmare. Just because you let your brother shoot you in the head!" Bill laughed. "You weren't special enough for anyone else—why do you think you're special enough for me?"

Stan jerked Bill to his feet by the handcuff's chain. "I bet I'm special enough to break your face!" He dragged him into the living room, fist raised. "Let's see if you stay down this time—"

Bill scrambled back as far as the chain allowed him. "NO!" Horror filled the one ragged syllable. His free arm was raised to shield his terrified eye.

They froze, staring at each other.

Bill straightened up, forcing a nervous, rattled laugh. "Come on, I just got all this dental work done. At least give me a couple days to enjoy it before you pound it in!" He was talking fast to fill the silence. "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind having a flatter face, all these bones and cartilage jutting out never did feel right—"

Stan feigned a punch.

Bill flinched.

Stan laughed at him, slapping his knee. "You big chicken! Look at you! Baw-baaawk-bgawk! HA!"

Bill tried, very hard, to explode Stan with his brain. This usually worked on people who dared try to insult Bill Cipher. "If I had one billionth of a billionth of my power, I'd have already destroyed you—!"

"But you don't, sucker!" Stan laughed louder.

Bill screamed in frustration, turned his back on Stan, and stomped upstairs to sulk.

Or, he would have, if he hadn't gotten one step up the stairs before the handcuffs yanked tight. He stumbled back, landed on his butt, and inadvertently jerked Stan down on one knee with a yelp.

Bill cast a resentful look at Stan—who was rubbing his shoulder and finally looking as irritated as Bill felt—and then he lay down and deliberately stared straight at the ceiling. "Whatever. I don't even care about your pointless mammal posturing. It's fine. It doesn't bother me. I'm calm. You're just making yourself look stupid." Bill shut his eyes. "I wanna go to bed."

####

"Bill," Ford said.

Bill cracked open an eye and peered up at the form looming over his makeshift cushion bed. "Mrm?"

In a very calm voice that suggested he was not calm at all, Ford asked, "Why are you sleeping on the floor in front of my bedroom door."

"Oh. Right, you missed it." Bill yawned and sat up. "Well, you see, Stanley got us handcuffed together until tomorrow morning," he pointed at his cuffed wrist and rattled the chain, "and I tried to be accommodating, but he doesn't want to sleep in the attic and won't let me sleep in the guest room—"

Stan yelled through the door, "And Mr. Accommodating here still refuses to sleep on the sofa bed."

"—so the best compromise we've got is sleeping on the floor with the chain under the door. Not my idea of a fun evening, but." Bill shrugged ruefully, like an adult resigned to indulging the whims of a petulant child. "Do you want in? It'll take us a little coordination to get the door open, but we've already done this once, so—"

"I'm not messing with this," Ford said. "I'm sleeping in the basement. Good night, Stanley."

"Night, Ford."

Trying not to sound miffed at being snubbed, Bill said, "Hey, do you still keep your cot on that rug you used to channel me better?" He laughed.

"Nope. I burned that rug." Ford turned the corner and left.

Bill stuck his tongue out at his back. He didn't actually know whether Ford was lying. He wished he'd thought to check out Ford's study before heading down to the portal back when he'd had his time tape.

"Hey." He rapped on the bedroom door. "I thought we weren't asking Sixer for help so he wouldn't find out about the handcuffs." They hadn't actually discussed it, but he'd taken it for granted. "Now that he knows, why aren't we getting his help?"

"What, you think I need his help to solve all my problems? Ha!"

"Okay, fine. Doesn't matter to me, I'm used to sleeping on the floor." Bill lay back down and sighed.

He shut his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

####

Bill wasn't quite dreaming, but for a few seconds it was something very close to a dream. He saw points of light in darkness. One of his earliest, oldest memories. He'd memorized the constellations outside of his plain when his starblind species didn't even have a word for "constellations."

But these weren't those points of light in darkness. Some nearer, some farther—he could sense their distance—and all of the lights were calling to him. All of his eyes. He could see so many more than he had last night.

One was just a few inches away. He could almost reach out and grab it.

But those few seconds of light-in-darkness were in the gray twilight between the dreamscape and the physical world, and Bill only fleetingly glimpsed them as he passed from sleep back to wakefulness. He opened his eyes.

To see a person looming over him.

And the taste of thick metal tools in his mouth.

"Hi," Bill said, for lack of anything better to say under these circumstances.

It was enough to make Dr. Illing gasp and stumble back from Bill. "Jeez." He clapped a hand over his heart. "I'm sorry— I-I didn't want to—"

"Uh-huh." Bill sat up and took the abandoned tool out of his mouth—pliers. They'd been gently clamped around one of his canine teeth. "Not the most unpleasant thing I've had aimed at my face in the middle of the night," Bill mused, "but it's pretty high on the list." He tried to lift his other hand to feel his face for damage—and only remembered the handcuff when the rattling chain caught his wrist in place.

They both looked at the cuff. As Dr. Illing realized Bill was trapped, a change came over his face—a desperate, crazed fury.

Bill shook his head. "Ohhh, no no no—"

"Give me that!" Dr. Illing lunged for Bill, one hand reaching toward the pliers and the other toward his throat, trying to pin him against the door.

Bill shoved his feet in Dr. Illing's chest, trying to hold him back. "Stanley!" He pounded on the door with the pliers. "We have visitors, wake up!"

"It'll only take a second," Dr. Illing insisted. "You were going to give me one anyway! And that tooth is already loose! You can handle the pain! Just—hold still, I can't damage it!" He managed to get his thumb in Bill's mouth—he cringed when Bill bit down, but didn't back off—and pulled a fresh set of pliers out of his tool bag.

Bill parried the pliers with his own pair. "STAAAN—"

The door unlatched and Bill tumbled backward into the room. He twisted out of the dentist's way, slid the handcuff chain out from under the door, and skittered behind Stan.

"Wha—what's—?" Stan squinted into the dark hallway. "The heck's going on?"

Bill stretched to Stan's nightstand and grabbed up his glasses and hearing aids. "Put your face on!" He shoved them in Stan's hands, then reached back for his dentures.

Stan put his glasses on first. "What the— Illing? What are you doing here?"

Dr. Illing stood forlorn in the hallway, trembling all over, eyeing Stan nervously. "Uhhh," he said eloquently. "I just..." He gestured around Stan's shoulder toward Bill, "wanted to check her fillings. I thought one of them might be a little loose—"

Bill's cackle cut through his excuses. "Oh, come on! I know your boss put you up to this! What does the little lady want with my mouth?"

Dr. Illing's eyes widened. All he managed to produce was a squeak.

Stan said, "What 'little lady,' this guy's self-employed. What are you talking about—"

"The tooth fairy, genius!" Bill flung his free hand in the air. "Why did you think your dentist pays you to pull your teeth! He lives in a van, who'd you think was funding him?!"

"Uh," Stan said. "You know, I sort of just took his whole 'creepy sadist who bribes people to let him pull their teeth' shtick at face value." (Dr. Illing's shoulders slumped.) "But—I know things are weird around here, but the tooth fairy's gotta be fake, right? That's the stupidest..."

A fairy popped out of Dr. Illing's bag—just large enough to use an adult man's hand like a chair, with a bob cut so white it almost shone, giving off a glowing toothpaste-blue aura, wearing a necklace of baby teeth like a hunter who'd taken trophies from the bones of her kills.

"Oh," Stan said. "Well. Never mind. Just one more crazy thing in this town."

Bill's back went stiff, his eyes widened, and he curled his fists into the fabric of Stan's tank top like he was holding his shield in place. "Oh, she's here." He lisped an inhuman swear under his breath.

Ignoring them, the tooth fairy glowered up at Dr. Illing. "How did they know? What did you tell them!"

"Nothing!" he protested. "I swear! I'd never!"

"Well, you must have let something slip—"

Bill swallowed hard; but then he straightened up, let go, and stepped into the open. "Why, if it isn't Miss Pearl E. White, in the fae flesh! To what do I owe such an honor?"

Dr. Illing and the fairy both flinched. She asked, "How do you know my...?"

"Oh, Pearl. I know things you couldn't even dream of." Bill favored her with his best, widest, most unnerving grin.

And got the creeping sense that she'd stopped looking at his face, and started staring at his teeth. He pressed his lips together. "And here's just one thing I know: lady, if you were toeing the line of your treaty any harder, you'd be tripping across it. So tell me what you're doing here and what you want."

She huffed defensively, wings buzzing as they lifted her several inches in the air. "I'm well within the terms of the treaty! I haven't laid a hand on you and I'm not about to start, and I've been offering more than adequate financial compensation—"

"Oh, right," Bill laughed, "I'm sure the queen of your court would be thrilled to hear you ordered your legally-dubious helper to rip out someone's teeth in the dead of night—"

"Hi," Stan said, "question. What the hey are you guys talking about. Treaties? Queens?"

"Oh, this is all going over your head, isn't it! I'll catch you up." He turned to the side to point accusingly at Pearl, "Little miss enamel-happy here has a thing for teeth. To the extent that she started stealing them straight out of humans' mouths. She went so crazy that the local human settlements actually declared war on her court over her dental kleptomania—and the fairies she dragged into the conflict weren't any happier about it than the humans were. So now, under the conditions of a human-fairy peace treaty, she's only allowed to acquire already freed teeth that are voluntarily offered to her by their owners—which is why she started bribing children."

Pearl crossed her arms, fuming. "That's a very biased version of events. You're just trying to paint me in the worst possible—"

"Save it, sparkles! I woke up with your minion's pliers in my mouth, I'll be as biased as I want!" He shifted his attention to Dr. Illing—who seemed to wilt under the force of Bill's glare. "But she's getting deep in a gray area working with this guy. Once a tooth is handed to a dentist, he's its 'owner,' and can freely give that tooth to the tooth fairy—but him extracting the tooth puts the whole operation on shaky legal ground. Really, I think the only reason you've gotten away with this racket so long is because nobody's filed a legal challenge with the fairy court yet."

"Nobody's complained about it," Pearl said hotly.

"None of your victims know about it," Bill countered. "Hey Fisherman," he jabbed Stan's arm, "how do you feel knowing your teeth were sacrificed to the tooth fairy?"

He considered that. "Well—it was free."

Pearl crowed, "Ha!"

Ignoring Stan's reply, Bill blithely moved on: "But by any reading of the treaty, hiring a human to steal teeth straight out of someone's mouth is beyond the pale. So you'd better have a good explanation for this!"

"Yeah. I do have a good explanation." She sucked in a deep breath. "I want your teeth!" She launched herself toward Bill; Dr. Illing had to grab her around the waist to hold her back. "I'd do anything for those teeth! They're the most amazing teeth I've ever seen!" She clawed at the air, hissing and straining as she tried to reach Bill.

"My lady, please," Dr. Illing said pathetically. "The treaty—"

She aimed a swipe at his face. "I know about the stupid treaty!"

Bill stared at her, baffled. His perfectly normal human teeth? But he shook his head, smiled, and said, "Well okay, fantastic! It's been a while since I've bargained with the fae, but I'm not too attached to this body—so how much gold do you have on you, kid?"

"We're not bargaining. You already know too much," Pearl snapped. "I'm not about to get blackmailed by a human, and I'm not going back to fairy jail. So here's what's happening." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward Dr. Illing. "I'm gonna have my guy rip out every one of your teeth, and then rip your head apart so you can't talk, and the only negotiating you get to do is whether or not my guy uses the local anesthetic before he starts. So what's it gonna be?"

Dr. Illing went deathly pale and his knees shook as he verged on fainting.

"Hey," Stan waved at the fairy, "listen, I'd love to see this guy's head get ripped apart, but—crazy thing, long story—it turns out there's fifty-fifty odds that killing him could end the world. So, maybe let's talk this out—?"

Pearl gestured dismissively at Stan. "His mouth has nothing left of interest to me. He's a witness. Kill him, too."

Dr. Illing swallowed hard; but, with trembling hand, he reached into his tool bag and slowly pulled out a large power drill that definitely wasn't designed for teeth.

"Right," Bill said. "Okay. This'll be fun." If he said it convincingly enough, maybe it would be true. "Hey, Fisher—you know that spell Sixer's got on me? If I cast it on Frankie here, can you..."

"Yeah, I see where you're going."

Pearl's eyes narrowed. She pounded her tiny fist on Dr. Illing's finger. "Hurry up, before they—"

Before she could issue a warning, Stan charged at them, fist raised. Dr. Illing flinched, shielding his face with the drill; but Stan dodged around him, heading for the hall. Bill seized Dr. Illing's upper arm as he passed—"Amnesia Limina, Stupidi Digiti, Occultus Locus!"—and then Stan yanked Bill out into the hall by their chain and slammed the bedroom door.

Dr. Illing gasped. "What?"

Blue light radiated through the cracks around the door as Pearl darted around, shrieking, "Open the door, you idiot!"

There was a moment of futile scrabbling. "How?!"

Bill and Stan retreated to the entryway. Bill said, "If we get outside, we can lose 'em."

"Or get the car and run them over," Stan said.

"You don't wanna be the guy who kills the tooth fairy! She might be in the doghouse, but she's still old fae nobility. Her court would—"

Bill cut off as Stan opened the door. Instead of leading to the porch and the forest beyond, it now opened into a bone-colored cathedral, the arches and vaulted ceilings constructed out of what looked like small irregular pebbles: teeth.

Stan gaped at the vast chamber. "Where the heck...?"

Bill looked at what had once been the outside of the door; the numbers "13 / 32" were carved into the wood. "Nowhere we want to go! Shut it!"

Stan slammed the door.

"That explains how she got in," Bill muttered. "There's no time to un-enchant this exit, we'll need another one."

Stan pointed toward the living room. "We can go out the—"

"The floor room exit." Bill dragged Stan back toward the hallway they'd just left.

"What?! That's the other end of the house, you idiot, the gift shop's right through here!"

"But it's a straight shot down the hall—" Bill stumbled to a stop.

The tooth fairy was clawing her way out from under the bedroom door. She caught sight of Bill, and her wings raised in a sharp V like a wasp preparing to attack. "You!"

"Never mind."

Stan dragged Bill back toward the living room. "Now can we go—"

Bill saw the living room—that familiar dark room, the familiar walls and carpet, the familiar armchair facing the doorway as though welcoming him back, the pale blue light from the fish tank climbing the walls like flames—and Stanley Pines, dragging Bill by a chain toward this tomb—and he grabbed on to the staircase railing. "Up."

Stan jerked to a stop. "That's a dead end!" He tried again to pull Bill toward the living room. "Are you insane?!"

"Yes." Bill locked his hand around the railing like a corpse in rigor mortis. He'd break his fingers before he let go. "We're going up."

"We are not—"

The tooth fairy shot past them like a glowing blue bullet, streaking into the kitchen. Stan started, and Bill took the opportunity to drag them up the stairs. Stan finally followed.

"You're not getting out of here with my teeth!" Pearl screamed after them.

"Ignore her," Bill muttered, "she can't risk touching us and she knows it. She's powerless without her minion." He stumbled on a step and just kept climbing on all fours.

"I wouldn't bet on her self control!" Stan struggled to keep up, his cuffed wrist in the lead. "Why are we going this way? How do you expect to get out from the attic?!"

"I don't know! It just seemed like a better idea! Do I have to think of everything?!"

"This was your plan!"

"There's got to be a ladder in the storage over the kids' room, we can get down out a window."

"I don't keep ladders—!"

"Well maybe Jesús does, do you know everything in the attic?! Come on!"

Bill kicked the door to the kids' room until Stan opened it. After a short argument about who should climb to the storage loft ("I have to look, you can't see in the dark!" "And you can?! Since when!" "Since always! You didn't need to know!"), Bill scrambled up the makeshift rungs nailed to the wall while Stan climbed halfway up to give the handcuffs a little slack.

As Bill started searching for anything useful, Pearl's ranting filled the shack: "Those teeth are too good for you!"

"I think she's getting closer," Stan said. "Find anything?"

"Not yet." Bill pulled out a broken umbrella with a hooked handle. He clung to it like it was his only defense as he scanned the loft for any signs of a ladder.

Pearl went on, "They're the most beautiful, pristine, unblemished, perfect teeth I've ever seen in my life!"

Bill asked, "Are they really that great?" He'd never paid that close attention.

"Eh..." Stan shrugged and made a so-so gesture with one hand. "A little weird-looking, honestly. They've got those jagged bits in the front that make 'em look like kids' teeth?"

"Huh."

"They're pure," Pearl snarled. "I've never seen adult teeth so pure! And you're ruining them by drilling out chunks of perfect enamel for unnecessary fillings! You don't have the right to those teeth! I deserve them!"

"Hey Bill," Stan said. "So you knew my dentist works for the tooth fairy, right?"

Bill was dragging aside a large box to see if anything ladder-like was hiding behind it. "Yes."

"And you knew she goes crazy for nice teeth."

"Yes." No ladder; he moved to another stack of boxes.

"And it didn't occur to you that she'd be furious that you carved up your new teeth."

"It's in the past, Stanley! Focus on the present!"

"—and I don't even know how you got magic teeth," Pearl continued. "Fully adult teeth in a fully adult mouth, but somehow they're barely a month old! It's impossible! I could barely believe it myself until I saw your mouth with my own two eyes! I must have those teeth, as soon as possible, so I can preserve them exactly like this, who knows if I'll ever find such a novelty again—"

"Ahh, so that's it," Bill said. "Welp, nope, didn't see that one coming at all."

"She's been shouting a while without actually coming after us," Stan pointed out. "What's she up to?"

Bill paused. "Check." He lay down and stretched his cuffed arm down from the loft to give Stan enough slack to peer out the bedroom door.

Stan frowned. "Huh. Weird."

"She's upstairs?"

"Yeah. But she's just flying in a circle. With... I think a veggie container from the fridge?"

Bill sucked in a breath. "Do we have mushrooms?"

"Wh—yeah? How'd you..."

"What!" Bill half-climbed half-fell to the attic floor. "That little cheater's making a fairy ring! That's not fair!" He leaned out the door with Stan. "She's probably already made the matching ring downstairs. We have to destroy it before—"

The circle of chopped portobello mushrooms glowed white; and with a glittery puff, Dr. Illing appeared in the ring. He coughed out a lungful of fairy dust.

Pearl pointed at Stan and Bill and screamed, "Get them!" With a murderous scowl and terrified eyes, Dr. Illing stared them down and revved his drill.

Stan yanked Bill back into the bedroom and slammed the door.

Dr. Illing whined. "Aw, f—again?!"

"Just break through it!" Pearl commanded. "It's just wood! You have power tools!"

"He can't do that," Bill said confidently. "Doors don't work like that."

Stan said, "He can do that." A power tool whine announced Dr. Illing beginning his assault on the door.

"Oh." Bill considered that, eyes scanning the bedroom from one side to the other, mouth set in a grim line. "I have an idea." He pointed toward the window with his umbrella. "Stan, open the window." He hooked the umbrella over his elbow as he ripped the bedsheets off Dipper's bed and started tying the corners together.

Stan shook his head in disbelief. "You don't really expect us to climb out that window on bedsheets, do you?"

Bill dragged Stan closer and murmured in his ear, just quiet enough that their assailants wouldn't hear him over the power drill, "No, I expect them to think we climbed out the window, while we hide in the closet in the alcove. Once they're past us to check the window, we can sneak out and run downstairs."

"I don't like hiding like cowards instead of fighting. Illing's rickety, we can take him."

Bill kept tying bedsheets. He picked up Dipper's zodiac blanket, flinched, and tossed it to the floor on the other side of Dipper's bed rather than add it to his chain. "Funny—you didn't seem to have any problem hiding for a week while I had your brother prisoner."

Stan grabbed Bill by the shirt, dragging him closer. "You wanna say that again?"

Bill's hands shot up next to his face in surrender. "Sorry, sorry, sorry—"

"There were people in this shack I wanted to keep safe," Stan growled. "I'm not half as fond of you."

"Got it," Bill squeaked. He pointed toward Mabel's bed. "But I can see a dozen futures that end with our brains splattered across Mabel's dolls. I do not want to fight power tools."

There was a crack as the drill flung the first few splinters of wood free from the door. Stan's scowl deepened, but he let go of Bill and nodded.

They tied the bedsheet rope to a table leg, opened the window, and flung the rope out the window; then retreated into the alcove at the other end of the room, pulled shut the ragged curtain that hid it, and closed themselves in the closet to wait for the tooth fairy and Dr. Illing to break in.

####

(Thanks for reading!! If y'all enjoyed, I'd love to hear what y'all think! Next week we conclude both with the tooth fairy and with whatever the heck is going on between Stan & Bill.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle stan #stanley pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(i traced 90% of Stan from the canon death punch because i wanted to make the parallel As Blatantly Obvious As Possible lmao)

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fannyyann · 25 days

Text

Tkachuk tells NHL.com how change in approach lifted game for Panthers

Forward no longer playing it safe, becomes ultimate clutch player in Florida

FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. – There was a time in Matthew Tkachuk’s life when he played it safe. It’s hard to remember now, hard to get that image out of your head, the one where he is crushing opponents and taking over Stanley Cup Playoff games and literally walking off the ice after scoring a game-winning goal in the fourth overtime of Game 1 of the 2023 Eastern Conference Final.

It’s hard to remember there was a before.

But there was.

Once upon a time, like most mortals, Tkachuk didn’t want to make a mistake. He didn’t want to be blamed. He didn’t want to err, to let down his teammates, the fans, himself. It was a time when he wasn’t quite as confident, wasn’t quite as assured -- if that can be believed -- when he didn’t know that, for him, safe was the riskiest play of all.

“I think maybe earlier in my career, being a young player, not wanting to be the guy that made the mistake, [I] maybe played a little bit safe in the high-pressure situations,” Tkachuk said. “Just trying to play it smart and, honestly, safe’s a perfect word for it.

“And then a couple years ago, I was like, why not make the play when nobody else wants to try to attempt it because they’re too nervous [about] what bad’s gonna happen? And I’ve seemed to go the other way, in the extreme other way, and that’s seemed to work the last few years.”

Tkachuk pinpoints it exactly, to 2021-22, his final season with the Calgary Flames, before the trade, before he landed in South Florida and became a genre-crossing star, before he helped propel the Panthers to the Stanley Cup Final last season.

“I was like, ‘Why not?’” Tkachuk said. “Why wouldn’t you want to be the guy that can make that right play at the last minute of the game or whatever? … I’m like, I’m capable, I feel like I’m a good enough player where I can be confident in myself no matter what the situation is. And that’s just kind of kept going.”

The Panthers and Tkachuk will need it to keep going, as they head to the playoffs having hit a tough skid of late. The Panthers, who are set to face the Boston Bruins at TD Garden on Saturday (3:30 p.m. ET; ABC, ESPN+, SN, TVAS), are 3-6-1 in their past 10 games, including a 6-0 win against the Ottawa Senators on Thursday.

They are second in the Atlantic Division, four points behind the Bruins, having clinched a playoff spot on March 28, a far cry from last season when the Panthers clinched with a single game remaining on their schedule. They then fell behind 3-1 in the best-of-7 first-round series against the Bruins. That was when they -- and Tkachuk -- came roaring back to force a Game 7. To win that Game 7.

“I knew what he could bring on a stage like that, but I don’t think the whole rest of the world knew what he could do,” brother and Senators captain Brady Tkachuk said. “So for him to show what he was all about is pretty cool. And I think he’s got another level to his game.”

Paul Maurice thinks he knows why.

The Panthers coach has seen a handful of players in his career who are elite, who might even rise to the level of potential Hockey Hall of Fame players. And when he’s viewing them, he notes something, something that seems to be common to all of them.

“I watch them and they have a higher expectation of the result,” Maurice said. “And the analogy I used [was] when that guy goes in and buys a suit, he expects it to fit right and it’s going to look good. He has an expectation of the result.

“With Matthew, it seems to me, it’s tied, there’s four minutes [left], he’s excited about that situation because he has a really high expectation that something good’s going to happen because over the course of his life, that’s exactly what’s happened. It wasn’t a lottery. It’s just he’s gone out and made it happen, so he wants to and believes it can.

“I never sensed any arrogance on him. I truly have not. It’s not like, hey, give me the puck, I’m the shooter. He just thinks when he hits the ice, it could happen, and his life has told him that it could happen. So why wouldn’t you enjoy the hell out of that?”

Oh, and he is.

Not only has South Florida been a revelation for Tkachuk, so too has the team, which has entered into the top echelon of the NHL. He has figured out himself and his game, not only that he can -- and will -- come up big in the biggest of moments, but that he can also adjust to fit what the team requires, mold his game to the situation.

Asked if he is a chameleon, he readily agrees.

Especially in the playoffs.

“I look at those types of playoff games differently,” Tkachuk said. “Like some people if they’re not producing, they’re not doing too much to help their team, whereas one of the good things that I’m able to do is recognize what my team needs out of me on that particular night or that particular shift.

“There are some nights when offense comes second and all I’m trying to do is run around, be physical, try to forecheck and try to gain my team momentum like that. Even if teams are keying in on me or really focusing on me, there’s ways to make an impact.”

No one can argue with that. The Bruins still bear the scars -- some literal, some figurative -- of what Tkachuk did to them in the playoffs last spring.

In the final four games of the first-round series, Tkachuk had eight points (four goals, four assists) to help them win the best-of-7 series.

Boston forward Trent Frederic, who traces his understanding of Tkachuk back to basement games as kids in St. Louis, said that he thinks that, likely, had Tkachuk not been on the Panthers, the Bruins would have advanced.

But he was. They didn’t. And now it’s not hard to believe that many teams are uninterested in seeing the Panthers on the opposing bench in the playoffs, in seeing Tkachuk on the opposing bench.

Before a cracked sternum forced him to miss the fifth and final game of the last season’s Cup Final, Tkachuk had 24 points (11 goals, 13 assists), including four game-winning goals, in 20 playoff games.

“So the playoffs, I think the one quote, he’s a [expletive] gamer, that’s how I feel about him in the playoffs last year. And I know it’s profane, but it’s also very specific words, it’s exactly the way I feel about him,” Maurice said. “Sometimes the words just fit. Sometimes they’re casual and you swear too much. Sometimes I do. But that is how I -- a [expletive] gamer. He comes up with the biggest plays time and time again. And his energy level to be able to play at that level, that was specific to the hockey.

“This year, I’ve gotten to watch what an incredible leader he is.”

He sees it on the bench, in the exhortation of his teammates, in his calming of them, in his barking at them. He sees it when he brought a friend and his two kids into the dressing room after a game in Detroit, when Tkachuk paused in his postgame showering routine to sign a jersey, to take a picture, to get Carter Verhaeghe out of the shower to sign the other jersey.

“I don’t even blame players who don’t sign,” Maurice said. “But he doesn’t have to do that, and he does that consistently. … It’s not fake. It’s not showy. I think he understands the responsibility that he has and he takes care of it.”

There are so many responsibilities heaped on Tkachuk now.

He is a leader on the ice and off it. He is the second-leading scorer, with 83 points (24 goals, 59 assists), the top chirper and certainly the most talked about player on the Panthers. And he is ready, once again, to receive that pressure. He is ready for the playoffs. He is ready for the eyes and the lights and all that comes with it.

“I enjoy it,” Tkachuk said. “I think that the high intense games and the rivalry games and the, just like the intense part of the games that some guys might not feel too confident or comfortable, I seem to thrive in them and I love those moments.”

There will be no shortage of those moments in the waning days of the season, in the start of the playoffs, as the Panthers attempt to replicate their Cinderella run to the Final last season -- without the Cinderella part.

Because much like the Panthers, who have been at or near the top of the NHL all season, there will be no surprises when it comes to Tkachuk. He is known, now. Known for stealing games, for coming up big in the biggest moments, for never, ever playing it safe.

And when the pressure comes, as it will, he will be right there.

“Knowing him, that’s going to make him go to another level,” Brady Tkachuk said. “And I think for him, he’s going to love, not the spotlight, but the opportunity that comes from that and what he’s going to be able to do with that. He gets better when the pressure is higher.”

#the quote from paul!!!!!!! the story about pulling carter out of the showers to sign a kid's jersey!!!! it's all too much #bye!#matthew tkachuk #2324

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southparktegreity · 1 year

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♡ what they look for in a girl

[stan marsh x reader] ; [kyle brof. x reader]

[kenny mc. x reader] ; [leopold butters stotch x reader]

[tolkien b. x reader] 🟊

gender : female cws : minor nsfw

requested : yes! thank you anon ! relationship : none mentioned

authors note : i wanted to write what they look for in personality traits, instead of appearance, hope that was okay!

NOTICE : as always, these characters are aged up to be in college 19/20+!

stanley marsh :

♡ i feel like he'd really want someone who is comfortable with silence, like being alone together in the same room doing separate things, yet enjoying each others presence. i think quiet time/being able to be around each other while being quiet is important to him, since he has to deal with so much talking in south park in general.

♡ i also think he's want someone who's really stable in his life. like he wouldn't necessarily want a girl who's always mentally stable, but more like he wants to be able to depend on someone especially during harder moments when he's struggling. he’d want to find stability in your relationship.

♡ definitely wants a girl who can take their relationship seriously but also who can kind of be playful at times. since stan is kind of a ticking time bomb, he'll want someone who's kind of also emotionally smart enough to tell when something is off with him because he struggles with expressing those same emotions.

♡ trust. this one is probably the biggest one for stan, he needs stability and trust in a relationship with anyone. he needs to be able to trust you'll be honest with him.

♡ i think all of this combined with support and love for him is what he looks for in a partner :)

kyle broflovski :

♡ as i'm sure everyone knows, he'd want someone very family oriented! even if you aren't close with your own family, as long as you care about having a family in the future, or are close to his own family i think that's good enough for him.

♡ would also really want someone to be on good terms with his mom and ike, since his dad is fairly easy to get along with and his mom is very much the head of the household - he'd want a girl to get along with her - even if that means looking at his baby photos with her.

♡ also would want someone who might be interested in religion, or at the very least doesn't make fun of him for his own.

♡ looks for communication in relationships, especially if he did something wrong? he’d want to know as soon as it happened. he’s probably a bit worried of losing you, or being abandoned by you because of heidi and that whole situation, so someone who can easily communicate their issues are reassure him everything is okay and stable in their relationship is perfect for him.

♡ i get the impression that his standards are kind of on the floor, with his mistreatment from cartman and heidi both, he just wants someone who won't leave him or make fun of him or his insecurities.

kenny mccormick :

♡ definitely wants a girl who will try anything once, if you catch my drift. especially if you'll initiate it as well? or seem invested in trying something new with him :)

♡ i feel like he’d really like someone to crack jokes with. i think he shares eric’s similar sense of humor but doesn’t actually want to full blown do the whole ‘eric’ thing all the time (ie dealing with cartman). sometimes i think he just wants to make a lil bit of fun with you! you know?

♡ he’d probably also want someone who’s a little more on the adventurous side, who’s probably a bit ambitious, again someone who’d be willing to try anything once. he probably really wants someone around who can also have their own wild side!

♡ also probably looks for someone who is kind to karen, especially if it means her crashing your guys dates.

♡ overall i feel like he doesn't have a huuuge preference, but more like he just wants someone he can get along with! definitely someone with a sense of humor similar to him.

leopold butters stotch :

♡ this is just my totally personal opinion but i feel like he'd really like someone also outgoing and also understanding? he might always be worried he's messing up or something while being with you, but would want you to be understanding when he makes a mistake.

♡ a little bit of chaos goes a long way. someone who will be able to create a little chaos with him from time to time would definitely be something he wants in a girl.

♡ playful intimacy, he doesn't wanna feel insecure with those intimate moments he has with you, but i think a little bit of playfulness with each other would totally brighten his day.

♡ i feel like he'd really look for a sense of belonging in a girl, somewhere where he fits in, and feels safe. since he doesn't get a lot of that at home, he'd really want to feel far from his home around a girl.

♡ to be honest i don't think butters thinks too much about what he wants, it just kind of happens for him.

tolkien black :

♡ i feel like tolkien probably looks for someone who's really good at communicating. he'd want to avoid any and all drama, considering he's got enough of it just living in south park normally.

♡ this one is kind of a given, but i feel like he'd want a girl who's more on the mature side, similar to stan but in a different way. he'd want a girl with more of her own interests and things that she enjoys. he really wants someone who's able to talk to him about mature things and not have to be worried too much that you won't take it seriously.

♡ someone self confident i imagine, i think he already has enough going on that he doesn't necessarily want to be worried about you on top of his family and everything else. which isn't to say he won't support you during your down moments, but being confident in yourself is probably a big one for him.

♡ this all ties in with the other ones, but self reliance and being good to yourself is probably big for him, again he doesn't wanna be in charge of you but will definitely take care of you when you need it - you know?

♡ overall, he just wants someone who's a bit normal or at least a bit less hectic or crazy than the rest of south park.

#south park x reader #south park x y/n #south park #kyle x reader #kyle broflovski #tolkien x reader #token x reader #kenny x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #butters stotch x reader #leopold butters stotch x reader #stan x y/n #stan x reader

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doll-elvis · 9 months

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did you like linda thompson for elvis? any insight to their relationship?

I recently got two asks about Linda so I thought I would just combine them here: warning this is long because as always I have too much to say 🤭

and thank you so much guys for the asks <3!! I really appreciate the opportunity to delve into these topics and have an open discussion, please share any thoughts or opinions y’all have, I would truly love to hear from you guys too

as for the first ask: this will probably be controversial but honestly I have mixed feelings about Linda Thompson, and it’s not so much over her relationship with Elvis that I feel conflicted about, it’s just some of the comments/posts she has made that have rubbed me the wrong way a little bit🤧

To start though I want to say I by no means hate Linda, Elvis loved her and there’s no questions I have for why he did- I think she is a really caring and nurturing person at heart. So if Elvis loved her, then I wish the best for her, and I try to live by this philosophy for everyone he loved… even if they do things I don’t like or don’t agree with

Also her book is one of my favorites out of all the girlfriends and it is genuinely beautiful (although I do wish the whole book was just about Elvis because I could not care less about Caitlyn Jenner lmaoo). You can feel the love and respect she has for him, and I will always admire how candidly she talks about Elvis whilst also being understanding of him and his complexities. Obviously Elvis was not a perfect human, but Linda writes in a way that really conveys her compassion/love towards of him even during the times when he was being quite frankly, an asshole 💀

I truly respect her for taking care of him the best she could, and still defending him to this day. I was honestly always relieved whenever the camera was on her in that Amazon prime documentary “Elvis’ Women” because she often set the record straight and didn’t allow for any sensationalized stories to be told about him

And one of my absolute favorite quotes about Elvis comes from her book and it’s when she said, “There is black and there is white, and then there is Elvis Presley”

As for some of the comments she has made (mainly on her Instagram), I cannot help but get the vibe that she is a touch narcissistic or as some of the Memphis mafia have said, “has a beauty queen personality”😖

Obviously I’m no psychologist but if y’all follow her on Instagram you might know what I mean. A couple months ago she shared a Instagram story that had a quote from David Stanley saying something along the lines of “Linda was the most beautiful girl Elvis was with and the best for him”

Now there’s absolutely nothing wrong with holding that opinion, she is incredibly beautiful and she cared deeply for Elvis, but I feel like sharing that quote had no purpose but to boost her ego. And David Stanley can choke for all I care, especially because some of the headlines he has been making lately

Linda also has a tendency to diminish the relationships Elvis had with other women, particularly with Sheila Ryan and Ann Pennington

(quote from Shirley Dieu about Linda finding out about Sheila Ryan ⬆️)

Linda was very young and in love at the time and rightfully angry about being cheated on. But at the same time I don’t think that justifies calling another woman a hooker, and that definitely doesn’t make it okay to tell everybody in the group that she was getting paid to be with Elvis, especially when it’s known that Sheila was the one girlfriend who demanded nothing out of him ⬇️ (y’all know I love Sheila I’m serious about defending her lmaoo)

She also recently made a post on Instagram where she shared some photos of her and Elvis and said this in the caption ⬇️

Am I too sensitive or does this rub y’all the wrong way too?? I wouldn’t call Sheila Ryan or Ann Pennington just “friends”. This may have not been Linda’s intentions but I find it disrespectful to reduce their relationship with Elvis to that, especially when Elvis cared so much about them

Even in the Amazon prime documentary “Elvis’ Women” she referred to Sheila and Ann as “dalliances” and also said the only women with any “holding power” in Elvis’ life was herself, Anita and Priscilla. But to name a few, Elvis almost married Dixie Locke before he got famous, he bought Graceland and intended to live there with June Juanico, he seriously considered marrying Ann Margret, he wanted Joyce Bova to live at Graceland (same with Sheila Ryan) and he literally proposed to Ginger Alden

Again, I might just be sensitive but that “holding power” comment totally rubbed me the wrong way. I have the feeling this is how she fuels her self-importance … by minimizing Elvis’ relationships with other women 🤧

as for the second ask: I think what caused the decline of her relationship with Elvis was that as she matured and grew up within the 4 1/2 years they dated, her priorities changed, and they no longer fitted to what Elvis wanted

Linda was pushing for marriage and by doing so Elvis was feeling pressured, and just from what I have read about him, that man didn’t want to be pressured by anybody

I honestly don’t believe Elvis ever intended to get married after his divorce with Priscilla, and despite proposing to Ginger, like many others, I don’t believe he would have taken the step to the actual altar. So by being very open about his affairs and wanting to be photographed with Diana Goodman and introducing women like Sheila Ryan at concerts as his girlfriend, perhaps that was his way of letting Linda know he didn’t “belong” to her and wasn’t planning on getting married🤧

(excerpt from “Elvis: What happened?” ⬇️)

This excerpt is from Albert Goldman’s “Elvis” so definitely take it with a grain of salt but I think it’s very interesting as it describes the course of his relationship with Linda ⬇️

In Linda Thompson’s book “A Little Thing called Life” she talks very openly about how their relationship essentially became “sexless”, and how she graduated to the role of caretaker as opposed to romantic partner. And according to Diana Goodman, Linda even acted as a third wheel when Elvis went on dates with Diana, and so I think by that point in the relationship Linda didn’t feel as threatened by other women because she knew her role in Elvis’ life: caretaker

This is just my opinion but I think Elvis stayed with Linda Thompson so long purely out of convenience. She was a woman who knew what he liked (movies, food, music etc. etc), she knew how to take care of him, and she had integrated herself into the group very successfully and got along with the people in his life, especially Lisa Marie. I have seen Elvis being quoted saying “I don’t want to teach another one” a few times, meaning he didn’t want to have to teach another woman how he lived, and how he liked things, he was simply comfortable with Linda because she knew him

But I think Elvis likely felt a little suffocated by her constant presence, which seemed to be the case with most women who he was with for long periods of time, and I believe that’s when he began pursuing women like Sheila Ryan, Ann Pennington and Diana Goodman. I also believe this is why he bought Linda an apartment out in California and a house in Memphis despite her living at Graceland: he was slowly trying to inch her out of the picture so he could do whatever he wanted with whatever woman he wanted. I forget what Memphis Mafia member said it but I remember a quote that said something like While Linda was out shopping in California, Elvis got with other women, that’s why he encouraged her spending

(excerpt from Linda’s book where she confronted Elvis after he began having affairs after the first year they were together ⬇️)

“once in a while I just need a little different stimulation, different company”

As for Elvis saying he could never picture himself marrying Linda, Ginger Alden’s book gives great insight ⬇️

Elvis could be very old fashioned about things so this definitely seems like a plausible explanation as to why he could never picture himself marrying Linda, she was likely too headstrong about it and it turned him off from the idea. As for flirting with the idea about having children with Linda, Elvis was very “obsessed” with the idea of having a son, and when he began dating Ginger Alden he also told her about him wanting her to have his son, and name him John Baron. So I don’t think his ideas of having more children was because of Linda or Ginger specifically, I believe he just wanted a son, and would likely tell whatever woman that he was intending to be with for a long time, his idea

if y’all have made it this far, thank you for reading <3!! I’m always open to discussion and just remember most of this is just my personal opinions so don’t take anything as the cold truth until you have done research and decided for yourself. I’m curious to read what y’all think about everything 👀

#thank you for the asks!!#this one is a doozy #linda Thompson #elvis presley #elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis history #elvis photos #elvis fans #elvis book excerpts #elvis asks

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suspiciousmindsxo · 2 months

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Here's a memory for you. It should answer the question, did Elvis ever go out to eat? Plus, there's a surprise ending to it.

A lot of people don't know, that the man you saw in the movies wasn't that much different in real life. Here's a perfect example of what I'm talking about. It was 1968, we had been riding horses all day at the Circle G, as the sun went down we drove back to Graceland. My brothers and I rode in the limo with Elvis and some of the other guys, and a few others were in cars behind us. As we crossed over the Tennessee state line, on E.P. Blvd. Elvis said he was hungry and wanted a hamburger. We saw a place, it was called Lotta Burger. The driver asked, do you want to go through the drive through, Elvis? Elvis said, "no, let's go in and eat". As we parked the car I noticed no one was inside.

As we walked in the manager came to the counter, I knew him and introduced Elvis to him. He was very surprised to see Elvis and was thrilled to meet him. Mr. Cooper, the manager, showed us to a large table, we took our seats and placed our order. As we were sitting there, a man walked into the hamburger joint. He walked to the counter and started yelling. Elvis looked over at him, and said "I guess he's had a little too much to drink". We laughed, but it was obvious the man was drunk. We continued talking about the day and the fun we had.

All of a sudden the drunk man started cussing the manager. He was yelling. Elvis stood up, Red and Sonny stood up also. Elvis told them to sit back down, he said "I'll handle this". We all watched Elvis walk over the man. When Elvis got to the man he asked "is there a problem, sir". The man looked at Elvis, he kind of squinted his eyes at Elvis, then he realized who he was. The man said, "you're Elvis Presley, aren't you". Elvis smiled and said, "yes sir, I am". Elvis stuck his hand out to shake the man's hand. The man looked at Elvis' hand and said, "well if it ain't Elvis (blanking) Presley". Elvis just smiled, then asked "is there a problem sir"?

The man started yelling and cussing again, and also said, "yeah the service around here sucks". He continued, "the manager says I have to wait until your order is done before I can get my food". Elvis looked over at Mr. Cooper and said, "sir, let this man have his food first, we don't mind waiting, and I'll pay for it". Elvis looked back at the man and said, "is that okay with you sir"? The man looked at Elvis, then said "I don't need your money, you (blank-blank). Elvis said, "okay sir, let's forget it, then". Elvis was about to walk away when the man said, " don't walk away from me you (blank-blank)". "I think I'm going to kick your ass, right now".

The man took a swing at Elvis. Elvis did an outward block, and spun the man around, Elvis grabbed the man by the back of his shirt collar and by his belt and walked the man outside, in one quick move. We were shocked at what the man did. Elvis walked him to his car. He said something to the man, then walked back to the restaurant.

When he walked in, we stood up and clapped our hands, then yelled "WAY TO GO ELVIS"!!! Elvis just laughed and we took our seats, again. Mr. Cooper brought our food to us and said, "this is on me Mr. Presley". Elvis said, "thank you sir, but I'll pay for the food". Mr. Cooper said, "but I'd like to repay you, for what you did". Elvis smiled and said, "for what, all I did was take out the trash".

You see, he really wasn't that much different than what you saw in the movies. He was a hero off screen, too.

Via: Billy Stanley

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis the king #elvisaaronpresley

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bitchinbarzal · 10 months

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my sweet daisy | letters to daisy

this is something i randomly started writing so pls enjoy or don’t.

my sweet daisy, today I held you for the first time. I held you in my arms all night while mom and wesley slept. I can’t stop staring at you. you’re perfect.

i’ll love you forever, dad

my sweet daisy, today you turned one. a whole year of my sweet daisy-chain. you’re so funny, you know? you like to laugh at everything I do. I love your laugh dais I think it’s my favourite sound in the world. happy birthday daisy.

love you, dad

we won the stanley cup today dais. you were so excited. marley, wesley and you all got on the ice, I’ll never forget it dais. seeing my best girl right as I won. I promised you guys could eat ice cream out of it. you’re currently asleep after being up so late as I write this. i’m so happy.

I love you daisy, love dad.

you started school today dais. I cried. you held wes’ hand going in and he was a little scared but you were so confident. you’re always so confident. you’re going to do great things daisy girl. I’ll always be here to support you.

I love you to the moon, dad

you started playing hockey today. you decided you wanted to play défense like dad. you’re not too great at skating but Marley wasn’t either! sasha said he’d teach you. i’m so proud of you dais

love, dad

you found out you were adopted today. you cried, a lot. we didn’t want to hurt you daisy. you are our baby, regardless of blood or dna. you’re my daughter, my girl, my baby. we love you dais and I’m one day going to kill tristan for doing this to you. I hope you can forgive us.

I love you daisy, forever and a day. dad.

you got your first boyfriend today dais. his name is mason and you were so excited to tell us. he’s 9 but I don’t like him, nobody is ever going to be good enough for you daisy.

you’re my girl always, love dad

we had our first fight today dais. you said some really nasty things. I don’t have a lot to say to you right now except that I still love you anyway.

dad.

you got into college dais! berkeley doesn’t know what hit it! me and mom are so proud of you. wes hasn’t decided what he wants to do but you’ve got it all figured out. you always do. I love you pumpkin.

love, dad

tristan broke your heart. the second time he’s done it in your life. I kinda want to hit him but mom says I’m not allowed to. you haven’t come home from college since, he’s playing at the facility all the time. mom says you want to transfer schools. I hate that you’re hurting dais and I can’t do anything about it.

I love you, the only man you need. dad

my sweet daisy. you moved away from anaheim today. mom and i cried so much. we’re so proud of you but we wish you didn’t have to go. I’ll always be your biggest fan.

love, dad

daisy, you took him back. while I’m not happy about it, you’re happy so that is all that matters. I just want you to be happy daisy.

love, dad

you bought your first house today! it’s awfully big for you two but I know his contract so I’m not surprised! you deserve the world, dais.

love, dad

hi sweet girl, long time no talk. i neglected this for a little while. I think it’s time i stop writing to you, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now as you know. I’m retired but I’m kept busy, you just had your precious girl a couple hours ago.

she’s so perfect dais, just like you. our sweet rose.

i love you sweet girl, forever your dad.

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henriiiii-1001old · 10 months

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tmc fairy tale au!!!

SO this is actually a concept i had a few months ago that i never rly expanded upon.

first, let me explain the basics:

i assigned different tmc characters to different fairy tales, but they all exist in the same universe.

Adam - Rapunzel Evelin - Snow White/Flynn Rider Jonah - Little Mermaid Sarah - Gretel/Daughter from The Juniper Tree Mark - Hansel/Stepson from The Juniper Tree Cesar - Frog Prince Thatcher - Lumberjack guy from Red Riding Hood Ruth - Red Riding Hood Dave - Father from The Juniper Tree Six - Gothel Gabriel - Stepmother from The Juniper Tree Preacher - The Sea Witch Stanley - The Candy Witch Alt!Thatch - Big Bad Wolf

next, some art i made for the au!!!

and now, huge lore dump! >:)c its gonna be long so buckle your seatbelts LMAO

so, the main plot of this au is basically that adam has been stuck in a tower in the middle of nowhere for almost 21 years. he had been raised by six, who is actually a witch set on taking over the kingdoms that surround the nearby areas (aka the counties). one day, six it out doing stuff, and while he's gone prince evelin (yes she's a prince bc fuck it) ends up finding the tower. she decides to climb it out of curiosity.

she ends up in a standoff against adam, but to try to deescalate things, they introduce themselves to each other. all of a sudden before they could talk more, adam hears six coming back and hides evelin in a nearby closet. evelin sees adam and six get into a fight abt adam wanting to go out into the world for once, but six is all "you're not ready" and it just gets really bad. all until six lovebombs adam and leaves again to get something for adam's upcoming 21st birthday.

evelin had exited the closet as six left, and she's like "you let him do that to you?" adam is like "uh yeah? he always does? i dont see them problem" and evie starts making adam question everything. she promises to take adam into the world but return him by night in case six came back. they'd also stay near the tower just in case as well.

cut to jonah's pov! he's a simple merman wanting to be a part of the human world! he sees evie and adam having a lot of fun and wishes he could join them. his dad (yes, if jonah is the little mermaid, the fucking mervin marshall is the king by proxy DCFVGBHNJ) is all like "nuh uh too dangerous, especially with most of the witches residing on land anyway" and jonah is like "FUCKING BET!"

he goes to the sea witch, preacher, and asks for legs and talks about seeing adam and evie hanging out! and preacher is like "im sorry WHO????" bc she knows that adam shouldnt be out and about. she makes jonah promise that as part of the deal, he must return adam to six in three days time, otherwise he'll turn back into a merman. he quickly agrees, and the whole deal is made. preacher does go tell six about this, and while he freaks out at first, preacher is like "it's ok dude i got this. i got a client to promise to return him home as part of our deal. you're fine m'dude."

jonah ends up on land and tries teaching himself how to talk while finding a cloth to barely dress himself with. adam and evie do eventually see him and they're like "yo who tf are you?" and while jonah cant talk, they do find a way to write to each other and they become friends!!!!

they do also eventually meet sarah at some point, and oh b o y does she have a backstory.

SO, in order to explain her backstory, let me explain the story of "the juniper tree" (copy pasted from discord LMAO)

"so a mother is peeling apples under a juniper tree and accidentally cuts her finger. the blood drips onto the snow on the ground, and that (somehow) grants the woman's wish to have a child as white as snow and as red as blood. she dies after giving birth to her perfect child, and the father soon remarries, having a daughter of her own.

she loved her daughter but hated her stepson and abused him every day and is all "i want my daughter to inherit your father's money." she then leads her children to a chest of apples one day. she lets her daughter pick an apple from the chest, but when her stepson came to pick one, she slammed the chest on his head and decapitated him.

she then set it up to where the same thing would happen again but the daughter would be there to witness it all, and her mother would gaslight her into thinking that she murdered her own brother. she then literally turned her stepson into soup and fed him to her husband. the daughter was so grossed out and distraught the entire time, but she couldn't rat her mother out. she ended up burying her brother's bones under the juniper tree.

then, he reincarnated as a bird and sung a song to some townspeople to convince them to help him get revenge on his stepmother. he gathered a golden chain for his father, red shoes for his sister, and a millstone to crush his stepmother. he reveals himself to his family and they live happily ever after."

here's the changes i made to the original story:

instead of just the mother dying, both of mark and sarah's prents die, and now they are in the sole custody of dave

instead of having the caretaker marry someone, dave asks his friend "o'brien" to help raise mark and sarah

instead of the stepmother dying, it is revealed that o'brien was actually the great mage gabriel trying to steal something important to their plans that dave just so happens to have

and thats it CFVGBHNJM. gabriel does try and come back every once in a while to coax gabe into either letting them come back or trying to make dave give himself up for sarah's sake.

cesar's story is also p cool imo! he is the prince of bythorne and evelin's cousin! they got along great when evelin was younger, but that stopped once cesar disappeared.

this was caused by him saving mark and sarah from the candy witch, stanley, who had lured them in to specifically kill mark. cesar saw what was going on and saved the two of them before it was too late.

later that night, stanley decided to be a petty bitch and curse cesar into being a frog so he wouldn't be able to save anyone else from her or her sisters' (in which six is her like. brother but i'll explain why later LMAO) plans. cesar hid in the shadows of mandela kingdom's palace for years since then.

since cesar's disappearance, evelin had wanted to take the role of prince to honor him. she also used it as a way to not have to be trapped inside the palace walls and coddled. she ended up still feeling stuck anyway, which led to her sneaking out to travel through the woods, which ofc led her one day to find adam's tower.

at some point (if anything this would be after evie and adam meet and stuff), evelin finds cesar in his frog form on the windowsill of the guest room he would regularly stay in whenever he would come to mandela to visit. he finds that she isnt revolted by his new appearance and is actually willing to help him out!

he explains that he learned that most curses can be cured by "true love's kiss", which in storybooks was always seen as romantic. he had always viewed evelin like a little sister, so he felt that he was hopeless.

that was until evelin thought of a loophole, since the stories never explicitly said that it was romantic, she would try to break the curse purely through the love she has for him as her cousin. she kisses the top of cesar's head, and cesar has returned to his human form!!!

...well, somewhat. the curse had altered his human form due to it not being broken for years on end, so cesar came back deformed. his limbs were too long and half of his face was always covered by a dark shadow. cesar did freak out about this, but evelin assured him that he'll always be her cesar, no matter what he looked like.

evelin and cesar explained the situation and cesar was finally returned to bythorne. he did write a letter a bit after wards telling her that he has resigned from his princely duties to become a princess! maybe it would help him not have to struggle with the expectations of needing to be brave and bold, and it would be a thank you to evelin for taking his role as a prince!!!

speaking of evelin, let's go back to her for a minute. so, i had also put her as snow white, but we haven't really seen her fulfill that role yet. weeelllll...

at some point in the story, six finds evelin alone in the forest and offers her to take a bite of an apple in exchange for knowledge about adam and his past. the thing is, evelin HATES fruit so she's like "ewww do i have tooo" and six is like "if you really wanna know, then you gotta."

evelin agrees and bites into the apple. it tastes so fucking gross, but she feels like she was to swallow it to finish her end of the deal. once she swallows, the pieces suddenly cling onto her throat, choking her in the process. as she struggles to breathe, six begins to tell her who adam truly is.

adam is a regular boy who six took as part of a deal made by his parents. lynn had been getting pregnancy cravings and wanting the rapunzel frm the neighbor's garden. she made jude retrieve them for her, but it wasn't enough. eventually, jude got caught by six and agreed to give up their firstborn child in exchange to continue taking the flowers.

once adam was born, lynn and jude were killed by six, and he took adam away to raise him as his prodigy. as a catalyst for the witches' plans.

as six is explaining all of this to evelin, she is trying her hardest to take him down with her. fuck the info he's giving her, he tricked her, and now he has to pay. she swings with all her might but falls in vain. her vision goes black as six walks away from her dying body...

there's probably a "mother knows best reprise" moment here and six is all like "oh you might wanna go save your friend if you care about her so much" and adam freaks tf out. she's desperately trying to think of something to help evelin.

eventually, the group remember's cesar's story with "true love's kiss" and they're like "fuck it let's try that". adam, while literally sobbing, plants a small kiss on her forehead and prays for her to wake up.

while this is all happening, evelin ets visited by mark's spirit. he basically hypes her up and is like "you got this girlie!!!" and she wakes up after adam plants his kiss on her. she starts to choke again, but adam helps her with it and heimlichs the apple out of her throat. she's finally able to breathe, and the group celebrates.

however, the happy moment doesn't last for too long. jonah does eventually return adam to six behind evelin and sarah's backs, but afterward he feels so guilty for it. they literally sacrificed one of the first human friends he's ever made for legs. how stupid is that? they eventually go to sarah and evelin and they quickly figured out what happened. while evelin goes to the tower to save adam (with help from a certain spirit), sarah and jonah confront preacher.

there is gonna be a plot abt preacher almost taking over the seas, but jonah and sarah do eventually take her down and retrieve jonah's voice. and yes, sarah gets to see that jonah is a merman and she's actually like "YO WAIT YOU GUYS ARE REAL???" and jonah is like "UH YEAH?????"

and yes, adam does eventually escape as well, but i dont have those details either so ye :')

that's the main plot at least! i do have a subplot for thatcher's pov tho! more copy paste from discord

"thatcher and ruth are friends and live nearby each other. ruth usually helps out w raising mark and sarah, though mark by this point is dead so dave DEFINITELY needs help. he and sarah havent been taking his death well, especially since dave literally ate mark’s remains without knowing. and sarah feels guilty enough for being gaslit into believing that she killed mark.

so ruth is about to go to dave’s place and has to walk through the forest to get there. she eventually meets what seems to be a very friendly wolf. she is a little weirded out by it, but she eventually tells it how dave lost mark and that she’s helping out! and the wolf is like “oh thats cool! i wish you luck on your journey. though i must say, these flowers smell beautiful! maybe you should pick some and take them to your dear friend!” and as ruth collects flowers as the wolf suggested, it found thatcher nearby and took his appearance to take a visit to a particular dave lee." ...

"she gets to dave's place who has been escorted out by the wolf/alt thatcher, right? so he's like "dear friend, why don't you rest! you've spent all day walking here, and you should be able to rest" aaaaand he tries to turn her into a werewolf but then thatcher comes in and is like "AYO TF YOU DOING TO MY BESTIE????" and he and the wolf fight. thatcher ends up getting bitten but is able to ward him off with his axe that was laced with silver just in case. so ruth is saved, but overtime thatcher feels more pain surge throughout his body and just kinda. turns one night.

unfortunately, he ends up killing ruth. alt thatcher tries to take this as an opportunity to maybe make him join the witches, but thatcher ofc refuses and makes a break towards dave's house. thatcher ends up telling dave what happened, and dave is okay with helping him hide it as well as hiding his newfound lycanthropy

sarah overhears this convo and becomes EXTREMELY angry at thatcher bc ruth was helping dave raise her after mark died. she was basically the mother figure sarah had always wanted, and thatcher took that away from her."

that's it for plot!!! now for some witch shenanigans >:)

so the witches are basically all the alts who usually practice shapeshifting magic to like. deceive others and all that jazz. ive made it a running joke that six is technically the only guy there FVGBHNJ

like, stanley is fem, preacher is female, alt!thatcher is copying thatcher who is transfem in this au, and gabriel dresses fem. six (and by proxy adam) is literally the only guy there DCFVGBHNJ

i am. running out of energy but i think that's everything for rn. hope you enjoy this au though!!!! ive put a lot into it <33333

#mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue #evidence reel #tmc fairy tale au #long post #dont think i'll have enough tags for characters but i dont mind LMAO #implied abuse trigger #face horror trigger #body horror trigger #eye contact #a2t

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sunshinereddie · 1 year

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For the soft fic prompt thing could you maybe do number 3 or 30?

sorry anon that this took forever to reply to!!! hope you enjoy reading :D

3: forehead kisses

There were lots of things that Richie loved about his boyfriend.

He loved Eddie's smile, and the loud laugh that he let sometimes slip whenever he heard something really funny. He loved the way Eddie cared for him- both in a physical way, in making sure Richie ate lunch every day, as well as an emotional way, in giving Richie a shoulder to cry on and giving him loving reassurance whenever he felt down. He loved the way Eddie cuddled into him at night like a koala bear, wrapping his arms and legs around Richie so tightly that Richie wouldn't be able to get up if he tried (it's made Richie late for work a few times, but he doesn't mind in the slightest).

One of the other things that Richie loves about Eddie, is that Eddie is the perfect height for forehead kisses.

When Richie is cooking dinner and Eddie comes to stand beside him, Richie can easily plant a kiss on his forehead. When they're sitting on the couch together and Eddie falls asleep, he is always just at the perfect height and angle against Richie's chest for Richie to wake him up with a gentle kiss to his forehead. When Eddie comes home from a bad day at work and he walks straight into Richie's arms for some comfort, automatically tilting his head up ever so slightly to give Richie access to his forehead.

Richie showed his love for Eddie in a thousand different ways, but a gentle press of his lips to Eddie’s forehead was definitely one of his favourites.

BONUS: Growing up, Eddie had always… disliked his height. He had always been short than his friends, his classmates, and even throughout college and his young adult years, he always found himself to be one of the shortest in whatever group he was in.

For nearly 40 years, he had always disliked his height… until he started dating Richie, and discovered that he was just the right height to receive a forehead kiss from Richie.

For the first time in his life, Eddie hoped his growth spurt would never come.

30. ‘this is my husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner etc.’

"Oh my god, did you see who's over there?"

"No, who?"

"Over at the bar- that's Richie Tozier!"

"Who?"

Bill raised his eyebrows at his coworkers. "Richie Tozier?" he repeated. "The comedian? He's like, one of the most popular guys in comedy these days? He's starring in that upcoming movie with Brad Pitt?"

Beverly rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. "You know I don't watch that kind of stuff, Denbrough."

"That's not the point," Bill said, looking back across the room to the tall, curly-haired man standing at the bar. "What the hell is Richie Tozier doing here, at our office party?"

"It's a public bar, Bill," Ben pointed out. "Ever think that maybe he's just here to get a drink?"

Stanley frowned. "A rich, world-famous comedian is getting a drink in a tiny, crowded, 2-star pub in Brooklyn?" He shook his head as he watched the comedian chat animatedly with the bartender. "Doesn't add up."

"Well, you can't be implying that he's here for the office party, right?" Mike said.

"No, but, I mean there must be a reason-"

"Hi, everyone."

While they were all indeed curious about Richie Tozier's attendance at their little party, Stanley's theory was cut short by a new addition to their table as Eddie Kaspbrak squeezed himself into the spot in between Beverly and Mike.

Eddie Kaspbrak was very much a part of this little office friend group, though he was the most mysterious out of all of them. He didn't talk much about his personal life... or anything other than work, really. So while things like Stanley's marriage and kid on the way, Beverly's side business, and the novel that Bill was attempting to write when he wasn't in the office were all common knowledge amongst them, the most that any of them really knew about Eddie was that he was married- and only because of the ring on his finger, not because he had told them. They were all definitely curious about the mysterious life of Eddie Kaspbrak, but they also respected him enough not to pry.

They all returned cheerful hello's and how are you's in reply to Eddie, but when Bill noticed the comedian at the bar move out of the corner of his eye, their conversation from before quickly resumed. "Hey, Eddie, do you know who Richie Tozier is?"

Eddie's eyes widened slightly, and if Bill wasn't mistaken, he seemed to have the slightest hint of a smile on his face. "I've heard of him," Eddie replied.

"Well, he's here, apparently," Beverly said. "And Bill's getting all excited about it."

"I am not getting all excited about it," Bill said, to which Beverly grinned. "I'm just wondering why he's here."

"Maybe you should go ask him," Ben suggested. "Maybe he'll even give you his autograph."

"Oh, shut it, Hanscom."

"What do you think, Eddie?" Mike asked, after the laughter and Bill's blush had died down. "Any ideas on why a famous celebrity would be here, at this bar, at our office party?"

Eddie glanced between his friends, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He looked almost nervous, but the smile on his face seemed to grow. "Ah," he said after a few moments of thought. "Well, actually, you see-"

"Eds!"

A voice cut through the music playing and all the conversation around them, and when Bill looked over to the source, he couldn't believe his eyes.

Richie Tozier was walking towards them, a big grin on his face, and his eyes set on Eddie. Bill thought he must be mistaken, that Richie Tozier was definitely not approaching them, that he was calling for someone else who just happened to have a similar nickname to Eddie, there was just no way...

So Bill could only watch in amazement and confusion as Richie Tozier stopped directly beside Eddie, and handed him one of the drinks in his hand. "They didn't have your favourite wine," Richie said as Eddie took the glass. "Or your second favourite, either. So I got your third favourite, which I know is not ideal, but it's the best this place and their pathetic wine selection could do."

Nobody could quite believe what they were seeing, or hearing. The five of them had worked with Eddie for almost six years now, and collectively they probably knew five facts about Eddie Kaspbrak... but somehow, celebrity comedian Richie Tozier has the knowledge of Eddie's favourite type of wine, as well as his second, and third? And he even has a nickname for Eddie, who as far as Bill knew, hated when people tried to give him a nickname?

Eddie glanced down at his wine, not looking too happy about having to settle for his third choice, but looked back up to Richie with a smile and thanked him anyways. Richie beamed proudly as he took a sip of his own drink, before glancing over to the group standing around them, and the five pairs of eyes staring at them in surprise. "So, Eds," Richie said. "You gonna introduce me to your friends or what?"

Eddie returned his attention back to his friends, and Bill noticed that his blush was even more prominent now, though his smile was as big as Bill had ever seen it. "Right," he said. "Uh, Richie, these are some of my coworkers, the ones I told you about- this is Bill, Mike, Beverly, Stanley, and Ben." Richie eagerly shook each of their hands, greeting them with a genuine-sounding, Pleasure to meet 'ya!

Eddie hesitated for a few moments after Richie let go of Ben's hand, as though he was trying to figure out what to say next, but was having trouble. Bill found this rather odd, as at work Eddie never seemed to have a problem with speaking in their meetings, but Bill was still trying to process the fact that Richie Tozier was standing in front of him and just shook his hand, that he didn't spend too much time pondering over Eddie's behaviour.

Finally, after taking another sip of his third-choice wine, Eddie spoke up again. "Guys, I'd like you to meet Richie- my husband."

#love is stored in a forehead kiss <3 #THANKS FOR REQUESTING!!!#reddie #reddie ficlet #reddie hc #reddie au #it #it au #writing prompts #writing ask #it 2017 #it 2019

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scramblecat · 12 days

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For the fandom ask game! 17 for Stanley, 22 and 24 for Stanley and Narrator :33

17. What's a book, movie, or show you think Stanley would like?

Honestly? I think he’d be entertained by action movies, or movies with a lot of action in them. He doesn’t seem to me like the type to care much about how good the plot is, just that he gets some action. (Narrator on the other hand needs An Extremely Well Done Plot and would probably hate Stanley’s choice of movies HEHAHA)

22. Give us a headcanon for the Narrator!

Ouu… okay I agree with what you said on your answer (he’s autism) and I also raise you: he’s adhd as well

This guy seems like adhd personified sometimes. Stanley is initially the one to derail things, but there’s a point after the initial derailing where the Narrator completely loses the plot and diverts to go somewhere completely different. A good example of this is the confusion ending, where he does make an effort to get things back on track, but eventually completely gives up and gets distracted with adventure. He forgets where they are and verbally admits to completely forgetting what they were supposed to be doing as well.

Another good example is the games ending— despite the Stanley Parable being a released game, there’s a gigantic chunk of the map that he simply procrastinated completing. Then the course of action goes from adding new features —> rating the game —> oh yeah! I just remembered I was also working on another game, come test it out :] —> ok obviously you hate my games. let’s go somewhere else —> immediately gets distracted by the contents of firewatch (in UD at least, in the O.G. he builds a house in minecraft) —> and stays distracted until he realizes it’s open world —> freaks out and brings stanley to a different game —> gets distracted by rocket league (in UD) —> gets distracted by having fun with Sportsball —> remembers that he’s supposed to be mad at stanley

Like, there’s so many little areas where as soon as he’s derailed from his script, he gets sidetracked by other things. he forgets so many things. the amount of aggressive paper-shuffling he does when the sound effects show up implies that he does not have any of that in order and can’t find what he needs to. he lacks volume control, especially when he’s excited. he Needs Stimulation and Has to be doing something at all times. friend pointed out that if this guy has low dopamine then no wonder he craves approval.

I just think he’s neat. the auDHD ever

24. What's your favourite thing about the Narrator?

Oh god you can’t do this to me … /silly

Alright. Being completely and fully honest, I think it’s his complexity.

there are SO MANY DIFFERENT FACETS to him. There’s so many different angles and interpretations you could take. There’s so many subtle little details and quirks about him and they make his character. The fact that despite the extremely heavy implications that he’s not human, he acts so PAINFULLY so. he has flaws, desires, fears, things that make him happy, and so many tiny little details that are portrayed via dialogue alone. he’s selfish, he can be absolutely cruel, but he’s still loveable as a character. despite the fact that he’s so selfish and so unsympathetic in many scenarios, there has been a perfect balance struck with the way that he’s portrayed. The fact that much of that is purposeful but also some is out of ignorance, the way it majorly interferes with how he copes with things. the way it’s balanced out by the fact that despite that, he’s a delightfully passionate character who genuinely cares so much about what he does, who gets so excited and enthusiastic about simple little things. The ways that his flaws turn into strengths and his strengths turn into flaws, the way his major flaws have dire consequences in multiple scenarios. he has so, SO many ways that he’s presented, he’s put through so many scenarios that reveal more about him and how he reacts to things going wrong and also to things going right. He’s not presented in any one way, and so it’s impossible to assign him just one blanket Mode— he’s not annoyed all the time, nor is he happy-go-lucky all the time— he’s presented as so complicated, he’s both of these at once and at the same time he’s so so much more than that OIUHHHHGHHH I LOVE HIM SO FUCKIG MUCH MANNN.

Thank you for the ask!! :D i’m very regular as you can tell /silly

—————

Fandom ask game! Send me a number (and a character, if applicable) and I’ll answer the corresponding question :]

#answering machine #an-theduckin #scrambleposting #tsp #scramble’s rambles #<— yeah this one deserves the ramble tag LMAO #ask game

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sergeifyodorov · 8 months

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I’m very curious about why Leafs-Oilers SCF would be “Good Hockey”! What would make it Good, and what would make it Good-er than other potential combos?

few reasons

the hockey

stanley cup final is between a good western team and a good eastern team. kind of obvious but that means there are only so many possible combinations of hockey that you can make, and not all of them are interesting to neutral observers!

ok ignoring my obvious leafsguy bias. if i want to watch a stanley cup final i want the two teams facing off to be not only good at hockey but also engagingly good at hockey -- i want excitement! i want goals! i want it to be fairly evenly matched but in a way that brings UP both teams' strengths and potentially also provides highlight-reel Fuckery. some teams, let's be honest, are straight up not fun to watch if they're not Your Guys, or sometimes they will bring other teams down to their level and be less fun. i do not hate the wild but they're nicknamed the mild for a reason, you know?

there are a few teams that are Good but not Fun (carolina) and many many teams that are Fun but not Good (sens). Goodness is fairly easy to quantify, but Funness is a little more nebulous. here is my proposition for the first few Fun Qualities:

at least two stars (super-type, not dallas-type. in roope and robo's case they Are both though), or at least two guys who stand a step above the rest in terms of quality. homoerotic devotion optional but strongly preferred

quality more stemming from Hijinks than Systems. in Systems hockey everyone kind of does the same thing. in Hijinks hockey we get sillay with it

really good and sexy offense. defense optional but strongly preferred

i would like it if they didn't try and kill people on the regular

patrick kane is not there

examples of teams that are Good And Also Fun (imho)

devils (this pisses me off because of how well whatever the fuck they did worked)(that whatever the fuck is tanking, getting lucky, and signing for the underlyings)

stars

oilers (this pisses me off for reasons i can neither name nor describe)

leafs

even if you count on this list not being comprehensive (it isn't), this does not leave us with a lot of options. this is my campaign for leafsoilers though so we forge onward

2. the narrative

i am weaving a web i am webweaving. it is about connor mcdavid. it is about the curse. (you know the one). it is about the fact that the greatest player of our generation was born just outside toronto, a leafs fan born and raised. it is about the fact that on the year another generational legend was set to be picked into the league, that wayne gretzky's original team won the lottery.

the leafs won their own lottery, too, of course. one year later. they missed out on connor by a year and instead took auston matthews, the ovi to connor's sid. the goalscorer to the playmaker. the ferocious competitor to the good humble perfect canadian boy. as sid and ovi were rivals back then, so must mcdavid and matthews be. every cup run either of the older pair had, one of them defeated the other. as above, so below.

3. god damn it, patrick roy

no canadian team has won a cup since patrick roy's montreal canadiens did in 1993. he got humiliated at the forum, cursed out the habs, and ended seventy years of dominance. the league, supplied as it is in significant portion by canadian fans and players, is really pressed about telling this to us at every opportunity. they would goddamn shut up about it as soon as it was canadian on canadian violence in the scf please god.

#asks #long story short: it would break at least part of patrick roy's curse #it might break the leafs' curse #and everyone would shut up about neither canada nor mcdavid having a cup.#well. they Might shut up about mcdavid not having a cup. depending on how the series goes #also it would straight up be entertaining hockey!

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queenburd · 1 month

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uhhhhmmmm maybe #47 in the kisses sections? tummy kisses... I just think narrator is soft and soft and so soft and tummy kisses. yea.

A kiss. A kiss. A kiss. A kiss.

A raspberry.

"Stanley, I'm starting to doubt that you're a grown man."

Kiss. Kiss. Pbbbbbfft.

"I mean, really. Really?"

Stanley looks up from where he's draped across the narrator's legs, arms strewn happily over the fellow's hips. His head is in the perfect place, chin resting on the narrator's thighs. A hand has been petting his hair for the past twenty minutes while the narrator read a book above his head (aloud, though quietly).

But see, they're only half dressed, and the undershirt has ridden up on the narrator's torso, giving Stanley prime access to the soft pillowy expanse of his belly. It's fuzzy with hair and it creases and folds and Stanley loves it.

Because the narrator didn't need to make himself fuzzy, he didn't need to make himself chubby. He wanted to be broader than Stanley, but he also wanted to be softer. He wanted to encourage physical affection.

So. Don't be a little contrarian when Stanley gives just that. Ya butt.

"Stanley," there's a warning in the fellow's voice, "My legs are right by all of your vital organs. Do you really want to see the damage I can inflict?"

He makes eye contact, and blows another loud, wet raspberry into the expanse of skin, right into the guy's completely unnecessary belly button. Bring it.

#the sparrow parable #may writes

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mariana-oconnor · 9 months

Text

Black Peter pt 3

After my last letter, you may have assumed that the case was entirely concluded with the arrest of John Hopley Neligan by Inspector Hopkins, however it was not so!

You don't say!

"Stanley Hopkins's methods do not commend themselves to me. I am disappointed in Stanley Hopkins. I had hoped for better things from him."

Oh, Stanley Hopkins. And you were doing so well. Alas, alack!

“What, then, is the alternative?” “The line of investigation which I have myself been pursuing."

Is this the thing where he was stabbing a pig corpse with a spear? I'm not sure that will stand up in court. But also he was saying that he couldn't do it in a single thrust, so I'm guessing that means that someone must have shot Captain Carey with a harpoon gun, rather than stabbing him with the harpoon, especially to stick him to the wall like that. They could have shot him from a distance away. Or he shot himself and this is all an accident.

We literally only have one named suspect at this point, though, and he can't have done it because he's already been arrested for it.

"‘Sumner, Shipping Agent, Ratcliff Highway. Send three men on, to arrive ten to-morrow morning.—Basil.’"

OK, so yes, this has to do with the stuff he was doing before.

The young detective was in high spirits at his success.

“It seems to me to have only one drawback, Hopkins, and that is that it is intrinsically impossible. Have you tried to drive a harpoon through a body? No? Tut, tut, my dear sir..."

Yeah, Stan. How could you have gone through this entire case and not attempted to stab a pig with a spear? Shoddy police work. Buffoonery. Utter clown show.

The precursors here of the modern forensics you see being performed on crime shows to this day. Literally down to using pigs because they're the closest equivalent to human flesh available.

But yeah, Stanley. Go stab a pig. It will also help you take out the anger you undoubtedly feel right now.

"My friend Watson could tell you that I spent a whole morning in that exercise."

This makes it sound like Watson was watching him do it. Which... different kind of date, I've got to say. Watson would probably do it, though.

His hopes and his ambitions were all crumbling about him. But he would not abandon his position without a struggle.

Come on, Stanley. You're better than this. Don't risk putting an innocent man in jail.

The first who entered was a little ribston-pippin of a man, with ruddy cheeks and fluffy white side-whiskers.

OMG it's Father Christmas! Was this his response to Carey's daughter's Christmas wish. Full service Santa Claus to the rescue.

I'm not sure if this is a first, but it feels like it: a character being compared to fruit rather than an animal. (A pippin is an apple). This is honestly kind of an adorable description, so I automatically don't think it's the guilty party. But he's great. Love him. Perfect character, no notes.

The second man was a long, dried-up creature, with lank hair and sallow cheeks.

Are these guys going to get progressively more unpleasant descriptions? Or is it going to be more the good, the bad, and the just right. Goldilocks and the Three Sailors.

The third applicant was a man of remarkable appearance. A fierce bull-dog face was framed in a tangle of hair and beard, and two bold dark eyes gleamed behind the cover of thick, tufted, overhung eyebrows.

Clearly a criminal. Although usually 'bull-dog' is reserved as a descriptor for police officers. Is this guy related to Lestrade?

Seems kind of mean that Holmes lured them all in with promise of a job, though. Rude. While they're busy running after an opportunity that doesn't even exist, other positions are being filled. They need to make a living, Sherlock.

Holmes leaned over his shoulder and passed both hands over his neck.

Did Holmes just come up behind the guy and put his arms over his shoulders? Really? That's such a weird way to do this. How do you even get handcuffs on a guy that way? Wouldn't it have been easier to do that from further down?

“I must really apologize, Hopkins,” said Sherlock Holmes; “I fear that the scrambled eggs are cold."

Cardinal offence. Cold scrambled eggs are practically a declaration of war.

“I make no complaint of being man-handled in this fashion..."

"You say I murdered Peter Carey; I say I killed Peter Carey, and there's all the difference."

There is a distinction, that's why there are different words for it and everything.

"I knew Black Peter, and when he pulled out his knife I whipped a harpoon through him sharp, for I knew that it was him or me."

Self defence. Well, I'm fine with that. Seems pretty cut and dried. He had a knife. Really, he did only have himself to blame.

"Peter Carey was master of the Sea Unicorn..."

"So far as I know, the man's name was never mentioned, and on the second night he disappeared as if he had never been."

Seems a likely story.

"Only one man knew what had happened to him, and that was me, for with my own eyes I saw the skipper tip up his heels and put him over the rail in the middle watch of a dark night, two days before we sighted the Shetland lights."

I mean, technically that's two men: you and the murderer. Unless the Skipper was a woman... which I'm pretty sure they weren't because it was Captain Carey, so... two people knew what had happened to him. Three including the dead guy, who probably doesn't count as he was dead, but he knew while it was going on. So... not to be pedantic or something, but really 'Only one living man knows' or 'Only three men knew'... Not that I'm pedantic at all.

"I guessed that he had done the deed for the sake of what was in that tin box, and that he could afford now to pay me well for keeping my mouth shut."

Oh no. Like, rule number one of being in a murder mystery, my dude. Don't do blackmail. It's the most direct path to death in these things. The second rule is never say out loud something that indicates you might have seen something but 'just need to check' before you tell anyone. Either way, you're dead.

This guy actually survived, but he did become the culprit, so... blackmail. Never worth it.

Though I think we're all agreed that he did the world a favour.

“Now I'll tell you the queerest part of the whole story."

You mean that wasn't the part where you admitted you didn't mind being tied up and manhandled by three other men? Seriously?

"For my part I walked ten miles, got a train at Tunbridge Wells, and so reached London, and no one the wiser."

I have questions. For instance, earlier Cairns says 'I stood there, with his blood splashing round me...' And he doesn't mention cleaning himself up at any point. Did he miraculously not get any of the 'splashing' blood on him, or was he just exaggerating the gore (although it was stated earlier to be a very gruesome crime scene) or did everyone just ignore him on the train covered in blood because this is the British public transport system and it's none of their business?

"I say again that if I killed Black Peter the law should give me thanks, for I saved them the price of a hempen rope.”

I mean... this is once again the old 'if you kill a killer the number of killers in the world stays the same' thing. You'd have to kill more than one murderer to actually save them any rope, if they hang you. At the moment they're just even. And given that they wouldn't have caught Carey anyway, they're technically down if they do hang you.

"This room is not well adapted for a cell, and Mr. Patrick Cairns occupies too large a proportion of our carpet.”

The reduction of carpet space is, of course, the main reason why keeping a prisoner in your sitting room is a bad idea.

"I was convinced that the initials ‘P.C.’ upon the pouch were a coincidence, and not those of Peter Carey, since he seldom smoked, and no pipe was found in his cabin."

I did forget about the initials on the pouch. Even though I remembered the pouch because I thought Carey didn't seem like the kind of man to share his tobacco.

"If it were a seaman, it could only be a seaman who had been with him on the Sea Unicorn."

"I spent three days in wiring to Dundee, and at the end of that time I had ascertained the names of the crew of the Sea Unicorn in 1883."

Every. Time.

I therefore spent some days in the East-end, devised an Arctic expedition.

Hey! You know what creatures you might see on an Arctic expedition?

Do you know?

Do you?

???

What? What did you think I was going to say?

“You must obtain the release of young Neligan as soon as possible,” said Holmes. “I confess that I think you owe him some apology."

Do they make cards that say 'Sorry I imprisoned you for a crime you did not commit?' Also... when did gift baskets become a thing?

"If you want me for the trial, my address and that of Watson will be somewhere in Norway—I'll send particulars later.”

Are they... actually going on the Arctic expedition? Are they taking Mr Lancaster of the apple cheeks? Are they going to explore the fjords?

Did you really organise an actual Arctic expedition? Are you going to pretend to be Captain Basil the whole time?

(Also, does Watson still have his practice, or did he just give that to the guy who lived next door?)

I believe I have read The Norwood Builder, which is coming next, because I recognise the title. We shall see how much I actually remember. Probably not a lot, going by what I've remembered of the ones I know I've read so far.

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #Black Peter #long post

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eightmakar · 2 years

Text

coming home | j.t.c. | 18+

Pairing: J.T. Compher x Original Character

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: cursing, drinking, smut (dry humping, dirty talk, making out) MINORS DNI

A/N: idk where this came from but enjoy the yearning i tried

tagging: @taking-shots @harlowhockeystick @flashyfucker @fallinallincurls @jostystyles @jostyriggslover96 @burkymakar @cuttergauth @matbaerzal @hockeylvr59 @hockstuff @tkachukslut @mikkorantanev @gabelandeskog @cale8makar @xsyntheticsensation

Connor Maddox’s grandfather always used to tell her, “Whenever Joseph Compher wants to practice on our ice, you let him. That kid is going to bring home the Cup one day.” She idolized her grandfather, respected every word he ever spoke, and so she spent her adolescence opening the rink for the soft-spoken yet snarky older boy with the big, brown eyes who always brought her a hot chocolate with Irish Cream, no matter what time of day it was.

And there he was on her television screen, hoisting the Stanley Cup over his head. Her grandfather would be proud.

“Hey Connor?” her employee, Robin, asked.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Connor looked up at her from her desk.

“There’s, um, there’s someone on the phone who wants to talk to the manager. He wants to have an event here or something.”

“Okay, thanks!” Connor picked up the phone as Robin left her office. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this the manager?”

Connor’s stomach dropped. She would recognize Joseph Compher’s voice anywhere.

J.T., Connor reminded herself. He goes by J.T..

“Yes, this is Connor, how can I help you?”

“Hey Connor, my name is J.T. Compher and I play for the Colorado Avalanche. I, uh, I grew up in Northbrook and basically learned everything I know at your rink, so I’d like to bring the Stanley Cup over and have a big celebration on my cup day,” J.T. explained.

“Yeah, we can do that for you, J.T.,” Connor said, smiling but wondering if he recognized her voice. He might recognize her last name, and he’d definitely remember her if she reminded him what her nickname was when they played hockey together.

“Thank you so much!” J.T. sighed. “We want to do a fundraiser as well, raise some money for the community, you know, give back a little.”

“We’d appreciate that a lot, truly. Let me give you my cell number and we can work this out together, sound good?” Connor suggested.

“That’s perfect, Connor, thank you.”

Connor gave him her number, wondering if he still had it in his phone from all those times he’d call her late at night or early in the morning, begging her to open the rink so he could skate. She bid him goodbye, then immediately called her dad.

“Hey, kiddo, what’s up?” Connor’s dad, Tom, answered.

“Remember Joseph Compher?” Connor questioned.

“You mean Stanley Cup Champion Joseph Compher? Yeah, of course.”

“He wants to have part of his Cup day celebrations at the rink.”

Tom gasped, incredulous. “He wants to bring the Stanley Cup to our rink? Did you tell him yes?”

“Of course I did. Pops would’ve rolled over in his grave if I didn’t. He wants to do a fundraiser and I think I could get him to make a donation to the rink, too.”

“Did he remember you?”

Connor gnawed on her lip, and muttered, “I don’t think so, but I didn’t tell him my last name. I wanna see how long it takes him to realize it’s me.”

“Ah, a test to see if he’s still worthy after all these years?” Tom chuckled.

Connor laughed back, “I hate you!”

“He’s still a good-looking guy, Con,” her dad insisted. “With a hell of a salary.”

“Goodbye, Father.” Connor rolled her eyes and hung up on her dad to get back to work. She checked her cell phone to see a text from J.T.. She realized he hadn’t changed his number, and she hadn’t changed his contact number since high school.

July 1st

Joseph The Idiot (12:43 PM)

Hey Connor, this is J.T. Compher. Wanted to say thanks again for helping us set this up. Your rink means the world to me and it’s going to be so special to share the Cup with Northbrook!

Connor (12:45 PM)

No problem! Excited to work this out!

July 2nd

Joseph The Idiot (11:21 AM)

I’ve confirmed my cup day is the 15th, is that okay?

Connor (11:24 AM)

Yes, that’s perfect! What are you wanting to do at the rink specifically?

Joseph The Idiot (11:30 AM)

I would love to be able to talk a bit to the people that come to the event

Also a photo op of some sort, definitely

I’m working with the Bluehawks too, cause I played for them, and there will be a lot of kids there.

Connor (11:35 AM)

Okay, so we could put carpet down on the ice? And chairs and such for the kids, for any of your family members, other important people?

If you wanted, too, we could have the photo op on the ice

Joseph The Idiot (11:37 AM)

That would be amazing!

I think we’d probably be there about a couple hours or so based on the tentative schedule.

Late morning to early afternoon, probably 11:30 to 1:30 or something like that

Does that work?

Connor (11:40 AM)

Yeah, we can make that work. We have a couple parties that night, but that should be fine.

Joseph The Idiot (11:41 AM)

We’ll help you guys clean up and get ready for those parties.

Connor (11:42 AM)

You don’t have to!

But we would appreciate it anyway :)

Joseph The Idiot (11:43 AM)

It’s the least we can do!

I’ll also be making a donation. I know you guys have some repairs you want to make, and I would love to contribute to that

Plus the youth hockey programs

Connor (11:47 AM)

We’d appreciate both of those donations!

I’m one of the youth hockey coaches

Joseph The Idiot (11:49 AM)

Really? That’s incredible! What team?

Connor (11:50 AM)

The U12 and U19 girls teams! I help out with the U14s and the U16s too.

Joseph The Idiot (11:51 AM)

My sisters both used to play for the girls’ teams. I’m so glad to hear they’re still going strong!

Connor (11:52 AM)

I’m glad to report it :)

July 4th

Joseph The Idiot (2:28 PM)

Happy Fourth!

Connor (2:38 PM)

Happy Fourth back atcha!

Joseph The Idiot (3:00 PM)

Think we could get some epic fireworks for the 15th?

Connor (3:07 PM)

Ha, in the middle of the day?

Joseph The Idiot (3:09 PM)

Damn, you’ve got me there

July 6th

Joseph The Idiot (6:58 PM)

How’s the planning going? Anything you need from me?

Connor (7:00 PM)

Nope, not as far as I know! We’re just making sure we have the staff to be able to host.

Joseph The Idiot (7:03 PM)

Great! Let me know how I can help!

Connor (7:04 PM)

Will do! :)

July 8th

Connor (4:43 PM)

Do you have decorations you want put up?

Joseph The Idiot (4:44 PM)

Oh shit, yes

I’m in Colorado right now, but can I have one of my family members bring them over?

Connor (4:46 PM)

Sure! Have them drop it at the front desk

Joseph The Idiot (4:47 PM)

God, you’re a lifesaver!

July 11th

Joseph The Idiot (5:41 PM)

Everything still good?

Connor (5:43 PM)

Yep, all good!

July 14th

Joseph The Idiot (9:07 PM)

See you tomorrow!

Connor (9:08 PM)

See you tomorrow! The rink is all ready to go!

July 15th

Joseph The Idiot (8:11 AM)

[image]

Pancakes taste even better from the Stanley Cup.

Connor (8:12 AM)

I bet they do, save some for me?

Joseph The Idiot (8:13 AM)

One to go box, got it.

[image]

I’m pretty sure this violates the “don’t take a date to bed on the first date” rule, but when else could I take Lord Stanley to my childhood bedroom?

Connor (8:15 AM)

At least you took him to breakfast beforehand.

“Does this shirt look okay?” Connor smoothed down her burgundy blouse nervously. She’d picked it out specifically for today, because it was one of the Avalanche’s colors.

“Why? Nervous to see your boyfriend?” Connor’s younger sister, Corissa, teased.

Connor stuck her tongue out at Corissa. “I’m ninety percent sure he has a girlfriend. Plus, he doesn’t remember me, so that would be awkward.”

“So? What if he shows up today and confesses his love for you?”

“I—,” Connor blushed at the thought. High school memories of him flashed through her head; watching him zip by her on the ice, scoring his games, looking up to see him watching her games she played with his sisters, Jesse and Morgan. She remembered how much she wanted to kiss him when his face was flushed and sweaty after a game.

“I’m just saying, if you suddenly have to sneak away to your office with him, I’ll cover for you guys,” Corissa said seriously.

“Jesus Christ, Cori,” Connor laughed. “I’m not going to fuck him at the rink!”

Corissa wiggled her eyebrows. “But maybe after?”

Connor shoved her sister and cackled, “Fuck off! I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you over there?”

“Yes ma’am,” Corissa saluted. “See you at the rink.”

Connor left her and her sister’s house and made the short drive to the Northbrook Sports Center. Her hands shook as she drove, pulling into her designated space and barely staying between the lines. She saw a gaggle of people in front of the building, several of them with the telltale Compher-red hair, and unmistakable number thirty-seven white Avalanche jersey.

Oh fuck, Connor thought. She wasn’t ready to see him yet, hadn’t mentally prepared to see J.T. after so many years, but there he was, standing at the front door of the rink like he was fifteen and waiting for her bike over to let him in. He looked good, much taller and much broader than she remembered him being.

Connor took a deep breath and clambered out of her car. She nearly tripped, cursing the heels she’d chosen to wear. She popped her trunk, grabbed her backpack, and walked over to meet the Compher family.

“Hey guys,” Connor greeted them as she came to a stop in front of the family she was once so familiar with. “I’m Connor.”

“Holy fuck,” J.T. breathed, sounding shocked. Connor saw Jesse elbow Morgan behind their brother, but her focus remained on J.T. as he said, “Duck?”

Connor pressed her lips together, but couldn’t hold her smile back. “I didn’t know if you’d remember,” she said quietly. “Hey, Seph. It’s good to see you.”

“Holy shit!” J.T. opened his arms and pulled Connor into a strong hug, allowing her to wrap her arms around his waist. God, he’d gotten so ripped. “I thought you were the Connor I was talking to, but I didn’t know your family still owned the rink after your grandpa.” He let her go but they stayed close together.

“Yeah, he, uh, he wanted to make sure we kept it, so he left us a lot of money to keep it going,” Connor explained. “I didn’t know if you’d remember me, either, and I didn’t want it to seem like suddenly you came back with the Cup and now we’re friends again.”

“I’d never think that,” J.T. said, barely audible, but was interrupted by Jesse loudly clearing her throat.

“Quit flirting and let us all say hi, J,” she said, pushing past him to hug Connor.

“There’s the Jesse I remember,” Connor laughed. “It’s even better to see you than it is to see Joseph. And Morgan, of course!” Connor released Jesse to hug Morgan, then Valerie and Bob.

“Um,” J.T. said, reaching for a plastic bag behind him with a coffee cup next to it. Connor’s heart pounded as he handed them both to her sheepishly. “I said I’d bring you some of Mom’s pancakes, so here. And just in case it was you,” he glanced over at Jesse, who smirked, “I got a hot chocolate with Irish Cream.”

Connor was stunned. He really remembered. Holy shit.

“Who had to remind you?” Connor teased, taking the cup and bag. “Jesse or Morgan?”

J.T. chuckled. “I remembered myself, thank you very much.”

“Wow, I’m impressed you had the brain cells to remember after all the partying you’ve done since you won the Cup!” Connor grinned and unlocked the door. She yanked it open and J.T. caught it for her.

“You know what,” he said, “you’ve got me there. For a while there my blood was just straight alcohol.”

Connor laughed as she walked into the rink, her second home. She flicked on the lights, then went around unlocking everything as the Comphers looked around nostalgically. They had their heads together, speaking softly, when she returned to them.

“So all your decorations are up,” Connor said. “And there’s a bunch of chairs on the ice, plus the backdrop for photos and a table for the cup and everything.”

“This is perfect, honestly,” J.T. told her. “Thank you so much.”

“Yeah, of course! My grandpa always said that you’d bring a Cup home,” said Connor sadly.

“I was really sorry to hear that he’d passed. He was a great person.”

Connor noticed that the rest of the Comphers had suspiciously left them alone, but she didn’t mind. She always loved the time they spent alone at the rink, and standing next to J.T. reminded her how much she’d enjoyed it.

“It sucked, I’m not gonna lie,” Connor agreed sadly and took a drink of her hot chocolate.

“What, uh, what happened, if you don’t mind?”

“Cancer.”

“Fuck, Connor, I’m so sorry.”

Connor shrugged, “We knew it was coming. He’d been struggling for a while, and we were just glad he wasn’t in pain.”

J.T. shifted nervously on his feet, looking like he wanted to do something to comfort her, but ultimately opting not to. Instead, he said, “I’m glad he’s not suffering anymore.”

“Me too. He left Dad the rink, plus some money to keep it going, and then when I graduated from college, I took over running it. Dad is technically the owner still, but I keep everything going since Dad has his own job.” Connor gnawed on her lip, wondering if she was telling him too much too quickly, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Where did you end up going?” J.T. questioned.

“Northwestern,” Connor said with a sly grin.

J.T. grinned back at her. “You always wanted to go to Northwestern.”

“And I did it. My degree is in my office,” Connor laughed, “also known as my most expensive piece of paper.”

“You’re doing better than I did,” J.T. laughed, too. “I don’t even have a degree.”

“Okay Mr. Three Million Dollar Contract.”

“Actually,” J.T. corrected, “Three and a half million. For four years.”

Connor shoved her old friend, laughing, “Show off.”

“You could’ve played pro, too, Duck.”

“What?” Connor looked incredulously at him.

“Yeah, you could’ve easily gone to play in the PHF. Jesse’s playing at Wisconsin in the fall, and I’m pretty sure she’s going pro after. I bet you could still keep up with her.”

“Seph,” Connor said quietly. “I can’t. I have to keep the rink going.”

“I mean, you could,” he insisted.

“Con,” Jesse interrupted loudly as she, Morgan, and their parents rejoined them, “thanks for setting this all up. Everything looks great!”

“Thanks, Jess,” Connor said with a smile. “We have a place for your medal, too, if you want.”

“I won’t leave it out, but I brought it if you want to see it,” Jesse said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a sock, reached into it, and removed her shining Olympic silver medal. Jesse offered it to a gaping Connor.

“Jesus, you trust me to hold it?” Connor laughed.

“It’s Jesse, not Jesus, and yes.” Jesse nearly shoved her medal into Connor’s hands as Connor laughed at her joke.

“Oh my god, it’s heavy!” Connor yelped, admiring the medal. “But look at her.”

“Wait til you see the Cup,” J.T. added.

“Damn, you really saw your sister win a silver medal in the Olympics, said ‘Hold my beer,’ and won the fucking Stanley Cup. You couldn’t let her outshine you, huh, Seph?” Connor chirped with a grin.

J.T. shrugged. “Nope, couldn’t let her have all the attention.”

Valerie walked over and joined them to say, “I think the Cup just got here, J.”

J.T., his family, and Connor all went outside to get the Cup. J.T. grinned when he pulled it out of its case, and Connor was struck by how shiny it was.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“You wanna hold it?” J.T. offered.

“I’m allowed to?”

“Absolutely.”

J.T. handed her the Stanley Cup and she gasped a little at how heavy it was. She’d always had the arm strength of a Tyrannosaurus rex, so J.T. helped her hold it over her head while Morgan took their picture. J.T. stood so close to Connor, she could feel his heart pounding. Why was he nervous?

“I think folks are gonna start showing up soon,” Connor said. “So I should get inside. Let me know if you need anything, any of you, okay?” Connor looked at J.T.’s whole family.

“We will.” J.T. wrapped his arms around Connor again, and she returned the sentiment, looking up at him in his arms while he mumbled to her, “I’m damn glad to see you, Duck.”

“I’m damn glad you remember me, Seph. You didn’t get too big for your britches and forget one of your childhood friends.” She thought for a moment, then added, “But you don’t go by Joseph anymore, so I should probably stop calling you ‘Seph,’ huh?”

“Please don’t stop calling me Seph,” he nearly whispered.

“Okay,” Connor whispered back. She stared at his lips and wondered how his beard would feel against her face. He’d shaved it recently, and she was glad; his playoff beard was looking ratty.

“Okay,” J.T. repeated. He was looking down at her, some glint of something in his dark eyes that Connor couldn’t identify. Joy? Guilt? Admiration? She couldn’t figure it out.

“I’ve gotta go,” she said quickly, but didn’t want to let go.

“I do too,” J.T. sadly agreed. “But I’ll see you later.” He gave her one final squeeze, then released her and disappeared into the rink, leaving Connor alone.

“What the fuck is happening?” Connor muttered to herself, covering her face with her hands. Her heart was pounding, her hands shaking, all for Joseph Compher. All because Joseph Compher remembered her, remembered her nickname and her hot chocolate and her. He remembered her.

“Yo, why are you out here?”

Connor removed her face from her hands to see Corissa walking up to her. She relaxed her body, and sighed, “Corissa.”

Corissa raised an eyebrow at her. “Connor. What is it?”

“He remembered,” Connor whispered.

“Shut the fuck up,” Corissa said loudly with a big grin.

“He remembered,” she whispered again, almost trying to convince herself that it was still real. “I walked up, and he called me ‘Duck,’ Cori. He brought me hot chocolate with Irish Cream.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Corissa repeated, her grin growing.

“And Jesse and Morgan kept, like, elbowing each other and smirking at him and stuff. Like I said, ‘Hey Seph,’ and Jesse elbowed Morgan. Like they’d talked about it too,” Connor added.

“Bro,” Corissa said excitedly, “he’s into you! He so is!”

Connor shrugged. “He's just being nice. We have history.”

“Sure, if that’s what you wanna call it, then call it history.”

“C’mon, we’ve gotta get inside. People are coming soon,” Connor tried to divert her sister.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Corissa said as they walked into the rink.

People began showing up shortly after that, and then Connor began running around like a chicken with her head cut off trying to keep things going smoothly. She hardly saw any of the Comphers, let alone J.T., during the ceremony, during the photo ops, during the whole event. She didn’t even get to see J.T. raise the Cup for the youth teams, including her girls, which made her sad, but she knew there would be video. She ended up back in her office as the event finished, and emerged when everyone had left.

“Duck,” J.T. said happily when they finally saw each other. “We missed you.”

We? Or I? Connor thought.

“I missed you guys too,” she replied, “but I had about a million little fires to put out. How’d it go?”

“Really good. It was awesome,” J.T. said with a soft smile. “I think the kids loved it.”

“I’m sure, my girls have been talking nonstop about it, and I know I haven’t heard the end of it.”

“I, uh, I would be happy to come to practice and hang out with them,” J.T. offered. “I’ve gotta go back to Denver for a bit, but I’ll be back. I could probably drag Jesse, too.”

“You’d do that?” asked Connor incredulously. An NHL Player making time to come work with her girls would make them so excited, especially J.T..

“For you, Duck? Anything.” J.T. reached out and put a hand on her arm.

Connor swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her throat, her stomach in knots. God, he’d grown up so well, had such broad shoulders, such nice lips. “Seph,” she mumbled. “Thank you.”

“I owe you an apology, too,” J.T. said, looking at the floor but keeping his hand on her. “For not texting or calling once I left. College got in the way, but that isn’t an excuse.”

“It’s okay, Seph, really—.”

“It’s not, Connor, I ghosted you. You were one of my best friends, you let me on the ice whenever I asked, and then I dipped. And I’m sorry for that.” He licked his lips and looked her in the eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Connor whispered. “I could’ve called, too.”

“It’s not your fault, Duck. Let me make it up to you. Come out with us tonight.” J.T. pushed a strand of curly hair behind Connor’s ear.

“Seph—.”

“Please?” His eyes were wide and hopeful.

“I have to run parties tonight.”

“We’ll be out most of the night. Come join us when you’re done.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Connor blurted out suddenly.

J.T. was stunned, blinking at her. “I did,” he said slowly, “but it didn’t work out.”

“Oh.”

“And you don’t have a boyfriend, right?”

Connor’s cheeks burned. “No,” she simply answered, instead of the complicated answer that she usually gave, which was that she’d never dated anyone before. None of them were J.T., none of them came close to him, and even years after they’d stopped talking, she couldn’t help but compare every man to him.

“Perfect. I’m gonna be honest with you, I’m gonna be smashed, but I’ll have Morg or Jess make sure you get the address of the bar we’re at. Or you can call drunk J.T., but I don’t think you’ll get very much out of him,” J.T. grinned.

Connor half-smiled back at him. “We’ll see.”

“J!” Valerie Compher called from the door. “We’ve gotta get going!”

“Okay!” J.T. shouted back at his mom, then turned back to Connor. “Please come out with us. You don’t have to drink, I just want to spend time with you. Please.”

“I’ll have to go home and change, but I will.”

“Pinky promise?” J.T. held out his pinky, like he used to when they were kids.

“Pinky promise,” Connor said, taking his pinky in hers and pressing their thumbs together.

J.T.’s grin returned. “I’ll see you tonight.”

July 15th

Joseph The Idiot (9:43 PM)

whereeeeearrreeeee youuuuuuuuu

you pinky promised you’d come out and you aren’t here yet :(

I’m the saddest ginger boy ever

Joseph The Idiot (9:55 PM)

Duckyyyyyyyyyyyy

I want to see your face

I went too long without your face

And I need it now

Joseph The Idiot (10:01 PM)

Birthday parties are sooooo lameeesee

Come party with me instead

I’m hotter

I’m cooler than birthday kids anyway

And I have the cup

Joseph The Idiot (10:15 PM)

I miss you

Pease come dancr wth me

Joseph The Idiot (10:24 PM)

do u temembre th pRty o took yoh ti

whwre wd olayes 7 munutes in haeven

Qnd yiu kixxed Alrx Smuth

I qas sooooiiiiiioooo jeslius

Connor (10:38 PM)

Oh boy, you’re having fun

It was later than she’d expected she’d be when Connor texted Jesse and Morgan asking what bar they were at. Morgan answered quickly, and Connor hopped in an Uber to meet them at a local rooftop bar.

She walked out onto the roof to see J.T. and several friends chugging beers. He got about halfway through the beer, then poured the rest of it over his head and cheered. The crowd around him cheered, too.

“Ducky!” he hollered, stumbling over to Connor. She caught him as he nearly tripped, and somehow ended up with his hands on her face.

“Hi,” she greeted him, stifling a laugh.

“‘M sooooo glad you showed up,” J.T. slurred heavily, his wide, blown-out eyes struggling to focus on her, his cheeks tinged with pink.

“Oh yeah? Have you had any water?”

“Noooo,” J.T. shook his head and shouted. “I don’ need water!”

“Okay, big guy,” Connor chuckled. “Can I come in and get a drink?”

J.T.’s brow furrowed. “Bu’ you don’ drink.”

“It’s your Cup party, Seph, I’m gonna have a drink.”

A big, drunken grin came over his face and he turned over his shoulder and shouted, “DUCKY NEEDS A DRINK!” He wrapped a long, strong arm around Connor’s shoulder and escorted her over to the bar.

“Con!” Jesse squealed. Connor didn’t think she’d ever hear Jesse’s voice in that octave, but had there been any dogs around, they may have started howling. “You made it!”

“I did!”

“Ducky needs a drink!” J.T. repeated, more to the bartender than anyone else.

“What can I get you?” the bartender intentionally asked Connor. J.T. wandered off somewhere, and Connor knew she’d catch him in a second.

“Smart woman,” Connor laughed.

The bartender shrugged and said, “I like to get paid.”

Connor laughed again. “Understandable. I’d like two shots of vodka with Coke, please. And whatever they’ve been pouring into the Cup to drink.”

“Got it.” The bartender began making her drink and asked, “So you’re Ducky?”

“Oh, God,” Connor rolled her eyes and muttered. “What’s he been saying?”

“Every time he’s gotten a drink, he’s told me you’re coming,” the bartender laughed. “Seems like someone’s got a little crush.”

Connor’s face flushed bright red. “We’re just friends,” she insisted.

“Does he know that? You know what they say, drunk words are sober thoughts.” The bartender slid her a bottle of Bud Light and her spiked Coke.

“Thanks,” Connor said sheepishly. “We haven’t seen each other in years, by the way. We were close as kids and in high school, then he went to college and we lost touch.”

“I’m guessing your name isn’t Ducky, right? Where’d that come from?”

“My last name is Maddox, and when he was a kid, he misspelled it M-a-d-d-u-c-k-s. It just stuck.” Connor pulled out a twenty dollar bill and slid it over to her.

“Oh, it’s covered already,” the bartender said, trying to push it back.

“I know,” Connor replied. “That’s for you. I don’t know if any of these dumbasses have tipped you or not.”

The bartender smiled, shoved the twenty in her apron, and said, “I appreciate it very much. You let me know if you need anything else.”

“And you let me know who doesn’t tip. I’ll make sure he tips you enough to make up for it.” Connor picked up her drinks and walked over to J.T., who was hugging the Cup with Morgan.

“Ducky!” he said in surprise, like he’d forgotten she was there. “I’m soooooo glad to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you too, Seph,” Connor replied, bemused. “I got this beer just so I could drink it out of the Cup, by the way. Can you help me?”

“Fuck yes!” J.T. yelled. “Morg, help me out.”

J.T. took the beer from Connor, cracked it open, and poured it into the Stanley Cup. He and Morgan carefully picked up the Cup as Connor bent down to one knee. Connor quickly handed Jesse her drink and her phone to take a video, and once Jesse was set and recording, Morgan and J.T. began to pour the beer from the Cup into Connor’s mouth. Connor grabbed the edge of the Cup to steady it, gulping down the frothy, amber liquid. It quickly splashed over her face and down her chest, and Connor was silently thankful she’d worn a romper with a black top.

The crowd around her cheered as the last drops of beer flew out of the Cup and onto Connor’s face. J.T. and Morgan lifted the Cup up, and placed it back on its pedestal. Connor turned to Jesse, arms up in the air, and cheered as she continued to record. Jesse laughed and handed Connor’s phone and drink back to her.

Connor suddenly felt herself being lifted into the air. She looked down to see J.T.’s grinning face as he spun her around

“That was sick!” he exclaimed, putting her back down and wobbling on his own feet. “Oh good, you got a drink.”

Connor gulped down her spiked Coke. “Yeah, something to get the beer taste out of my mouth,” she laughed.

“Let’s dance, Ducky!” J.T. grabbed her hand and tugged her over to the dance floor. He held both of her hands in his as they began to dance, just swaying and bouncing their bodies to the beat of the rap song playing over the speakers that Connor didn’t know and J.T. pretended to know.

Connor noticed J.T. kept licking his lips and looking at her. She swore he was looking at her lips, but he was so drunk she had no idea. J.T. pulled her in close to his body and Connor turned around to grind her ass on him instead. Why not tease him a bit?

“Oh shit,” J.T. groaned softly.

Connor brought his hands to her hips. He gripped her hard, but it felt nice. Connor had daydreamed about grinding on him at school dances every year in high school, and she wondered how mortified High School Connor would be to see Adult Connor living her dream.

J.T. nuzzled his nose into Connor’s shoulder and neck. She froze when she felt his lips brush her skin.

“Why’d you stop?” J.T. whined, pulling at her hips.

“Did you kiss my shoulder?” Connor asked, glancing behind her.

“Yeah,” J.T. shrugged. “I wanna kiss more of you but I can’t.”

Connor’s body went cold and she turned around in his arms, which he wrapped around the small of her back. “What?”

J.T.’s eyes fell to her lips again as he slurred, “I wanna kiss all of you. You look like you wanna leave, please don’ leave. I haven’ seen you in years and now you’re here and I wanna kiss you.”

“Joseph, you’re really drunk, and you’re definitely not gonna remember this in the morning,” Connor said. She put her hands on his chest, but she knew if he tried to kiss her, she would let him.

“I can’ stop thinkin’ about you,” he said slowly. “I want you all the time. You know I dreamed about you las’ night? I dreamed I saw you and I kissed you and I fucked you in my childhood bedroom with the Cup next to us.”

Connor blushed hard. “Joseph,” she whispered. “We can’t. You’re drunk.”

“Yes, we can,” he said, much too loud. “Do you know how much I liked you as a kid? How when I asked you if I could skate it was just an excuse to be with you? You’re the reason I’m here to begin with!”

“My grandpa is the reason you’re here,” Connor corrected.

“So? That doesn’ change how long I’ve been in love with you, Duck.” J.T.’s face was soft, eyes wide.

But it didn’t matter, he was drunk.

“J.T.,” Connor finally said, taking him aback. “We can’t do this right now.”

“I won’t remember any of this in the morning,” J.T. said somberly. “So just tell me yes or no. Did you like me too?”

“Seph…”

“Yes or no.”

Connor hesitated before she said, “Yes.”

A huge grin spread over J.T.’s face. “Fuck,” he laughed, “I wish I was gonna remember this.”

Connor looked at him, pained, and muttered, “Me too, Seph.”

July 16th

Joseph The Idiot (9:03 AM)

Holy fuck

I’m unbelievably hungover

You didn’t come out last night :(

Connor (10:12 AM)

Yes I did!

[video]

You were already blacked out by the time I got there?

Joseph The Idiot (10:21 AM)

Shit

My bad

And I’m sorry for anything I said or did

Connor (10:25 AM)

Damn, so you don’t remember we got married last night?

Joseph The Idiot (10:27 AM)

Don’t even joke about that

That’s legally binding

If we got married, I’m fucked

Connor (10:28 AM)

Yeah you are, cause when we get divorced I’ll get half of your money

Joseph The Idiot (10:30 AM)

When? :(

Connor (10:34 AM)

You didn’t take me out to dinner first :/

Joseph The Idiot (10:35 AM)

You got me there

Connor (10:58 AM)

Do you have lunch plans? Wanna grab a bite?

Joseph The Idiot (11:05 AM)

Fuck, I wish I could

I’m about to board a plane back to Denver

I’ll be back in two weeks

Connor (11:12 AM)

Damn, that sucks. Safe travels!

When you come back, how about dropping in on my girls’ practices? Make up for ditching me?

Joseph The Idiot (11:22 AM)

You bet.

Taking off, see you on the flip!

Jesse Compher (12:04 PM)

Hey, can I call you?

Connor’s heart banged in her chest as she read Jesse’s message. Shit, did she remember what happened last night? She cautiously shut her office door and dialed Jesse’s number.

“Hey!” Jesse answered cheerily.

“Hey,” Connor replied with a small chuckle. “You sound like you feel better than Seph did this morning.”

Jesse laughed back, “Definitely. The miracles of hydrating after drinking.”

“So what’s up?”

“Okay,” Jesse began, “hear me out before you tell me no.”

“Oh, boy.”

“You’ve played hockey your whole life. I’m pretty sure you could still keep up with me if not be quicker than me, and J.T. said he mentioned pro hockey to you. Are you interested?”

Connor was shocked. She sat silently on the other end of the phone for so long that Jesse started calling her name.

“Sorry, I’m here,” Connor finally managed. “You think I’m good enough? I played club hockey in college, but I played with a lot of boys.”

“What time does the rink close tonight? Maybe I could come over and we could skate. I’ll bring you a Red Bull.” Jesse sounded bemused; like her brother, she’d spent most of her childhood at the rink, and though she was two years younger than Connor, they’d still been pretty close. Jesse always brought Connor a Red Bull instead of a hot chocolate, because that was ‘J’s thing.’

“We close at nine. I’d make the excuse that I don’t have my skates, but we both know that’s not true. I’ll see you at nine?” Connor couldn't believe what she was saying.

“See you at nine,” Jesse replied. As Connor was about to hand up, Jesse added, “Oh, Con? J.T. doesn’t remember last night, but I do.”

Connor’s mouth went dry and she squealed out, “Oh?”

“Tell him. Tell him what he said.”

“I can’t, Jess. It’ll seem like I’m just a gold-digger or something.”

“Sure you can. It doesn’t matter what other people think.”

“I …” Connor trailed off. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll keep reminding you.” Connor could hear the smirk on Jesse’s face.

“I know you will. I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight. Bye!”

“Bye!”

Connor buried her face in her hands. What the fuck had she just agreed to? If she still skated better than Jesse, an Olympian, could she really make it as a pro? Could she leave her girls?

Questions plagued her mind as the day dragged on, until Jesse’s grinning face appeared in her office at exactly 8:30, clutching two Red Bulls and her stick, a backpack on her shoulders.

“On time is late,” she joked, tossing one Red Bull to Connor.

Connor tapped the sides and cracked it open. “That’s probably why I haven’t played pro yet. I’m habitually late.”

“Keep telling yourself that. I’m gonna go warm up. I paid the entrance fee for free skate at the front.”

“Jesse!” Connor laughed. “Why?”

“Cause I wanted to,” shrugged Jesse. “It’s the least I can do.”

Connor’s heart warmed. “Thanks, Jess. You mind if I zamb after we skate?”

“Nah, I don’t care. I’ll see you out there.”

Jesse left Connor’s office, and a few moments later, Connor watched her zoom around the free skate stragglers. She watched two little girls—she recognized them as sisters of a couple of her players—stare at Jesse in awe.

Connor joined Jesse after a bit, clutching her stick and wearing her helmet and gloves in addition to her skates, before Robin made the announcement that they’d be closing in five minutes. She skated out to the center of the ice, waved at the girls who were staring at Jesse, and pushed off on her skates. Skating clockwise, Connor slowly crossed over when she turned, and took big, powerful strides to warm her muscles up. The ice under her was bumpy and rough from the hours of free skate, and she noticed her skates needed sharpening.

Jesse skated up to her, blowing snow when she stopped, to the girls’ amazement. As Robin made the “We’re closed, please leave” announcement, Jesse grabbed a puck and began skating around with it, dangling past imaginary defensemen. Connor took a sip of her water bottle she’d brought with her, then grabbed another puck and passed it to herself off the boards.

“Okay,” Jesse said once the ice had cleared and everyone had gone home. “First thing’s first. You were always faster than me, so let’s race. Start at the red, go around clockwise, first one back to the red wins.”

“Just like the All-Star fastest skater race?” Connor asked with a grin.

“Exactly.” Jesse grinned back.

They skated over to the refs’ circle by the score box, but Connor stopped them before they could start.

“Wait, we should have Robin time us and tell us when to go,” Connor suggested. “I don’t want you cheating to make me feel good about myself.” Jesse nodded, so Connor called Robin over, explained what they needed, and got ready to race.

“Ready…” Robin said, “set … go!”

Connor leapt forward on her skates. She leaned down as far as she could, her knees bent, flying around the faceoff circles. She quickly crossed her left foot over her right, still gaining speed as she straightened out and skated parallel to the boards. Her lungs burned from the cold and her legs burned, but she continued to push, gaining even more speed on her second turn. She flew past the red line, turned, and stopped at center ice before she flopped down on her back.

“Holy shit,” Connor gasped and looked at Jesse, who was hunched over and panting herself.

“You beat me,” Jesse said with a grin. “And I was going faster than full speed. Robin, what was the time?”

“Connor’s was 14.2 seconds,” Robin said.

“Connor!” Jesse gasped in surprise. “Dude!”

“That means nothing,” retorted Connor. “Speed and skill are two different things.”

“Okay, so challenge me then. Keep me from scoring.”

Connor laughed, “I need like, two more minutes of laying on the ice.”

“But you still beat me,” Jesse said. “Like, I was probably a full second behind you.”

“Like I said, speed doesn’t equal skill.”

“We’ll see.”

After a few more minutes of laying on the ice, Connor got up, squirted some water into her mouth, and set up in front of Jesse, who had collected several pucks at center ice.

“Defend me,” she challenged. “I’m gonna try to shoot at the crease basically.”

Connor nodded, then placed her stick on the ice and leaned on it, feeling the flex push back against her. Jesse pushed the puck around with her stick a few times before settling like Connor did, leaning on her stick. Connor nodded at her, and with a grin, Jesse pushed the puck forward.

Connor skated backwards to keep her eyes on Jesse. She easily kept pace with her friend, driving her to the boards with her stick before she poke checked the puck off Jesse’s stick and off the boards. Jesse whirled around to try and regain control, but Connor had already snatched the puck away from her and skated down to the opposite blue line with it.

Jesse grinned under her cage. “How the fuck did you poke check like that? You’ve gotta teach me.”

“Let’s go again,” Connor insisted, not convinced that Jesse wasn’t taking it easy on her.

“Whatever you say, Con,” said Jesse. She skated back to center ice, grabbed a new puck, and attempted to take it straight down the middle. Connor raced to meet her between the circles, so Jesse dangled the puck towards Connor to throw her off. Connor wasn’t phased by her attempt, however, and kicked the puck off Jesse’s stick, then took control of it and brought it back to center ice.

“It’s because there’s not a goal to shoot on,” Connor said. She clambered over the edge of the ice to the area where they kept their goals, grabbed one, and lowered it down onto the ice. Jesse took it and skated it over to the crease while Connor carefully climbed back onto the ice.

“Now there’s a goal,” Jesse said, skating to center ice, “so let’s go again?”

Again and again, Connor defended Jesse, stealing the puck in every way imaginable, until Jesse’s grin melted into a touch of frustration. Jesse finally fired off a slapshot that Connor couldn’t stop, so it went sailing into the net and Jesse yelped out a strangled cheer.

“Fucking finally,” she muttered. “You wanna switch? You shoot and I’ll defend?”

“Yeah, sure! You’re gonna crush me though, I’m not a great offensive defenseman,” Connor shrugged.

“Connor, I’m telling you this because we’ve been friends a long time, and even though we haven’t chatted in a while, I still consider you a close friend so listen to me: Shut the fuck up.”

Connor blushed.

“You’re doing incredible,” Jesse continued. “I don’t know how you’ve managed to keep your edges so well, but I firmly believe you could sign a pro contract right now.”

Connor’s blush deepened. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll try. Register as a free agent with the PHF, and they’ll contact you. If you wanna wait til you show up J.T. too, that’s fine, but just tell me you’ll give it a shot,” pleaded Jesse.

“I don’t think I can leave the rink,” Connor said softly. “They need me here.”

“Cross that bridge when you come to it. Just see if a team will give you a try out.”

Connor chewed on her lip, thinking. Finally, she said, “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Jesse asked excitedly. “You’re not fucking with me?”

“No,” Connor responded as a grin spread across her face. “I’m not. I’ll give it a shot.”

“Fuck yes!” Jesse cheered, skating towards Connor and throwing her arms around her. “You’re gonna be great, I promise. Now, you just have to tell J.T. what he said last night.”

“Ha, absolutely not,” Connor chuckled. “He can confess his love to me sober.”

July 17th

Joseph The Idiot (10:48 AM)

Jesse told me about your practice session

Connor (10:49 AM)

Of course she did 😂

Joseph The Idiot (10:53 AM)

Are you gonna do it?

Connor (10:55 AM)

I’m going to try. I’m filling out the free agent registration right now

[image of Connor’s computer]

Joseph The Idiot (10:59 AM)

Fuck yeah

Jesse would know more people than I do, but I’m gonna ask around about the process, too

Connor (11:00 AM)

Thank you Seph 🥹

Joseph The Idiot (11:04 AM)

Anything for you!

July 19th

Joseph The Idiot (1:31 PM)

I’m coming back to NB on the 27th!

How about that lunch?

Connor (1:36 PM)

What day?

Joseph The Idiot (1:39 PM)

The 28th at Max & Benny’s?

Connor (1:41 PM)

Perfect!

Joseph The Idiot (1:44 PM)

When do you have practice with your kids?

Connor (2:03 PM)

Every day. M/W is U12s and U16s, T/Th is U14s/U19s, Friday is everyone, Saturday is class for the babies. Weekday training starts at 10 am, Saturday starts at 9

Joseph The Idiot (2:05 PM)

Damn

You’ve got them practicing a lot, huh?

Connor (2:06 PM)

Well it’s summer so they don’t have school, and they love it honestly

Joseph The Idiot (2:07 PM)

I’d love it too if I was their age

Which practices do you want me to come to?

Connor (2:10 PM)

All of them? They would all benefit from it

Joseph The Idiot (2:17 PM)

I’ll only deal with the young kids for you

Just for you

Connor (2:20 PM)

If you kill one of my kids I’ll kill you and replace you with Jesse

Joseph The Idiot (2:26 PM)

She did always want to be J.T. Jr

July 22nd

Joseph The Idiot (11:27 PM)

Di yoh thjnk pigs ciuls gly if rhey tries hqrd enougt

Connor (11:29 PM)

Drinking again are we?

Joseph The Idiot (11:35 PM)

Nooooooiiiiioooooo

I muss yiu

Connor (11:36 PM)

You’ll see me next week seph

Joseph The Idiot (11:38 PM)

Nor sooon enoygh

Inwanna kisss tou ao basd

Connor (11:43 PM)

They really should take your phone when you’re drunk

Joseph The Idiot (11:47 PM)

Noooiooi thry csnt I’m a chsmpiun!

Connor (11:50 PM)

You are a champion

Drink some water seph

July 23rd

Joseph The Idiot (12:00 AM)

Hsppu nrw yaer!!!!!

Connor (12:04 AM)

Seph 😂 It’s July

Joseph The Idiot (12:06 AM)

NI ITWS NOIT

Connor (12:10 AM)

Goodnight Seph, I’m going to bed

Joseph The Idiot (12:17 AM)

NNOOOOOOOIP

Cime bafk

I lovr yiu

NI i donr i hqte yiu

Ik kudt kuddinh

I lpre yoh

Joseph The Idiot (1:14 AM)

Qusck qusfk

Her ut

Cahse gour nwme is duck

hehehewhee

Joseph The Idiot (2:16 AM)

Ih nu my ecx id here

Noooooiiioooooo gp awsy

Stipid wx

Joseph The Idiot (3:43 AM)

Hehe i ficked my ex

Bur i qas thijkimg sbout yoh

Joseph The Idiot (8:59 AM)

Jesus Christ

I’m so sorry, Connor

Connor was fuming. What was J.T.’s deal? He’d led her on as a kid, then waltzed back into her life like it was nothing. She angrily called Jesse later in the day.

“Jesse, I’m going to murder him,” Connor growled.

“Okay, totally valid,” Jesse agreed. “He’s being an ass about this whole thing, but what he told me was that now that he won the Cup, he realized that he was only missing one thing, and that was you.”

“He did not say that.”

“He did. I have proof.”

“Bullshit.”

“Hang on.”

Connor heard rustling, then felt her phone buzz. “What did you send me?” She questioned Jesse.

“Evidence.”

Connor pulled her phone away from her ear, put it on speaker, then looked at the screenshots Jesse sent her.

July 17th

Jesse (5:01 PM)

What’s up?

J.T. (5:17 PM)

I think I’m in love with Connor

Like i have been since we were kids

And seeing her the other day just made everything come rushing back

Jesse (5:29 PM)

Why now?

J.T. (5:32 PM)

When we won the cup I realized that all I wanted to do was share it with her

Even though I hadn’t seen her in years

And I fucked it up when I ghosted her

But when I saw her and she looked at me like that?

I knew she was the only thing I was missing

I had the cup

And I needed to work to get her back

It’s her, Jess

It’s always been Connor

Connor’s face burned as she read the messages. If he felt this strongly, why hadn’t he said something yet? She supposed he had, but she’d written it off as drunken ramblings. She was terrified of the idea of him actually reciprocating her feelings; being rejected was one thing, but being liked back was almost scarier.

“Con? You there?”

Connor was startled, having forgotten she was on the phone, and replied, “What?”

“I asked what you thought of his messages.”

“Oh. They terrify me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend, Jess. So the idea of him liking me back is so scary, because I’ve felt the same way about him since I can remember. I legitimately remember meeting him on the ice and asking him to be my friend. I realized I liked him when I was like, seven. My grandpa—,” Connor’s voice caught. She cleared it, then continued, “My grandpa used to tell me J.T. was going to win a Stanley Cup. And I used to tell him that he was going to marry me first.”

“I remember when I realized you liked him. You came over for a sleepover when you were like, twelve probably. My parents made him watch a movie with us and he was so mad, but you kept looking at him the whole time,” Jesse laughed. “I was so confused, because I was sitting there like, ‘Out of all the guys we know, you picked my brother?’ I idolized him, but you liked him. It was so weird to me.”

“Is it weird now?”

“Nah. You’re soulmates. Just remember we had this conversation and share it at your wedding, okay? That I set you guys up.” Connor could hear the grin in Jesse’s voice.

“Whatever,” Connor said back, a grin plastered on her own face. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, Love Bird,” teased Jesse. “Bye.”

Connor shifted on her skates as she waited for J.T. and the rest of her girls to join her. Jesse was already on the ice, skating around with some of the girls. J.T. came out finally, his helmet and visor shoved messily on his finger hair, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a navy blue Avs pullover.

“Hi,” he said with a grin, bumping her with his hip.

“Hi,” Connor replied. “How was Denver?”

“It was great, but I’m glad to be back. I missed you.”

Connor smiled softly. “I missed you too. Are you ready?”

J.T. replied, “Let’s do it.”

Connor blew her whistle to have the girls and the other coaches gather around. The girls knelt on the ice in front of them, the coaches gathering next to Connor, J.T., and Jesse.

“Good morning, ladies,” Connor greeted. “I want to take a quick second and introduce some special guests who will be helping us during practice today. They were both just like you guys, skating here, and now they’ve done some pretty cool things. This is Jesse Compher—,” Connor motioned to Jesse—“and she was a member of the US Women’s Hockey team that just played in the Olympics in China. She got a silver medal, which is pretty dope, right?”

“Right!” the girls cheered.

“And believe it or not, this is Jesse’s brother, J.T.. J.T. plays in the NHL and just won the Stanley Cup for the Colorado Avalanche. So they both know hockey pretty well. If they ask you a question, or tell you to do something a certain way, they know what they’re doing. Any questions?”

The girls looked around at each other before another coach said, “Alright, let’s split up like normal!”

The coaches and players split off, the older girls on one side of the red line, the younger girls on the other, and Connor skated over to be with the older girls, her U19s. Another coach started them off in a skating drill while J.T., Jesse, and Connor watched the girls, giving them pointers on how to improve their strides. Connor made sure to point out the girls she thought had college or pro potential to Jesse.

J.T. then began skating the drills with the girls. Connor gazed at him talking to the girls in line, pointing things out to them as their teammates skated, laughing with them and hanging out with them. Connor had always thought he’d make a good coach, but seeing the way he interacted with her kids confirmed that.

They moved onto a couple more drills, which J.T. participated in with the team. Jesse joined him, going out of her way to talk to some of the girls Connor had mentioned as she skated with them.

Eventually, they started a scrimmage, J.T. on one team, Jesse on the other. Seeing them reminded Connor of when they were kids, when nothing mattered except playing hockey, when she wasn’t aware she was in love with J.T. and that he was in love with her. J.T. skated like he was having the time of his life, too; he had a huge grin every time he took the ice, every time one of the girls stopped his attempts.

Practice ended at noon, but J.T. and Jesse hung around on the ice to take pictures, answer questions, and just spend time with the girls. Connor had to physically kick them off the ice so Robin could run the Zamboni, but the Comphers continued to talk to Connor’s kids. When the last girl left to go get undressed, J.T. finally plopped down next to Connor on the bench in front of her office window, with a wide grin on his face.

“Hi,” he said happily.

“Hiya. You’re happy,” she teased.

“That was way more fun than I expected, to be honest. Those kids had great questions, they’re funny, and God, some of them can skate.”

“That’s why I wanted you to come,” Connor said, laying her head on J.T.’s arm. “They work so hard, too. I’m just so proud of them.”

“You should be. Cassie over there? That I was talking to? She’s gonna be a Jesse. Her hockey sense is just off the charts. And Lucy too? I was so impressed.” J.T. took off his helmet and began untying his skates.

“Yeah,” Connor agreed, smiling at the ground. “Yeah, they’re gonna be stars. I’ve trained them since they were little. Cassie’s going to Minnesota, Lucy’s still deciding, but her top choice right now is Michigan.”

“And you didn’t tell me before?” J.T. asked incredulously.

Connor smirked. “I didn’t want you influencing her. She needs to decide on her own, Seph.”

“I would never try to influence her to go to the greatest school in the world,” J.T. said proudly.

Rolling her eyes, Connor said, “Whatever. Some of us actually finished college.”

J.T. shoved Connor playfully. “I was gonna buy lunch, but with that blow maybe we’ll split the check.”

“You’d make me pay for my own food?” Connor asked, giving J.T. puppy eyes. “Is chivalry dead?”

“You’re incorrigible,” laughed J.T.. “Hurry up, I’m starving.”

“Me too.” Connor quickly tugged her skates off and padded into her office to slip on her sneakers and drop off her skates. She rejoined J.T. in front of her office, and the two of them walked out of the rink together.

“Jesse drove me,” J.T. said, “so can I catch a ride with you?”

“No. You can walk.”

J.T. made a face and reached for Connor’s passenger side door anyway. “Funny.”

Connor smirked and climbed in the car with J.T.. They quietly drove to Max & Benny’s, then got a table in the corner. J.T. sat with his back to the door, his attention fully on Connor. He gazed at her, some glint in his deep brown eyes.

“I’m getting a milkshake before lunch,” Connor said to break his gaze.

“Life’s too short to not have dessert first,” J.T. chuckled, quoting Connor’s signature phrase from high school.

The waiter came over to take their drink orders, but J.T. and Connor had been there so often that they knew what they wanted. J.T. ordered a water and a double cheeseburger with everything on it, fries and broccoli on the side. Connor ordered a chocolate milkshake and a BLT with fries. The waiter left, returned after a moment with two waters, and left them alone again.

“So,” J.T. said, “how was everything while I was in Denver?”

“I’m in love with you, Joseph,” Connor blurted out.

J.T. blinked. “Pardon?”

Connor took a deep breath, then said, “I’m in love with you. I have been since we were kids, before I even knew what it meant to be in love with someone. You kept drunk texting me and I didn’t want to believe that you felt the same way, but now I just—I just can’t convince myself anymore. I love you.”

J.T. sat quietly. He swallowed hard, he licked his lips anxiously. He looked around, his leg shaking. He was trying to think of what to say, and the longer the silence loomed, the more Connor wanted to run away.

“Every morning,” J.T. finally said, his voice cracking a bit. “Every morning, I wake up and think of you. Every night when I go to sleep, I think of you. When I lifted the Cup, all I wanted in the world was for you to be there with me. It’s like I finally allowed myself to feel it, you know? I’m so in love with you, Connor Maddox, and I don’t want to go another day without you.”

Connor stared at him until they both cracked and grinned at each other. “Why the fuck did we wait this long to tell each other?” she laughed.

“Great fucking question,” J.T. laughed back. “I want to kiss you so bad but I think we’d get kicked out.”

“Why?”

J.T. smirked. “Because I don’t just want to kiss you.”

“Oh.” Connor didn’t have a witty comeback; the thoughts and wonders of what J.T. wanted to do to her consumed her brain.

“Our food better get here fast,” J.T. said, turning to look at the kitchen impatiently. Under the table, he moved his foot so it was against Connor’s, lightly rubbing against it.

“Wow, playing footsie, Seph? What are we, fourteen?” Connor chirped.

“Listen,” J.T. said loudly, then looked around before he continued in a hushed voice, barely audible. “The second I get you alone, I’m gonna wreck you.”

“How do you know I wanna be wrecked?” Connor’s voice wavered as she tried to tease him.

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you want me to wreck you?”

Connor’s face went bright red at the thought. She licked her lips and answered, “Maybe.”

“You’re blushing,” J.T. observed.

“And?”

“When you say maybe, it means yes, you just don’t want to say yes. You’ve done that forever, Duck. But I need to hear you say ‘yes.’”

“I’m…” Connor trailed off and looked down.

“What?” J.T. asked, reaching for her hands comfortingly. “You can say no, that’s perfectly fine. We’ve waited this long, we can wait a little longer.”

“No, it’s not that, I just, um, have never had a boyfriend before so I don’t know how this all works. And technically, I’ve never had sex with another person, but like, I take care of myself.” Connor’s face flushed even more.

“There’s not a certain way that it works, really, it’s up to us,” J.T. said softly. He rubbed his thumb over Connor’s knuckles. “Do … Do you want me to be your boyfriend? I’d say we’re moving quickly, but considering the fact that we’ve been pining over each other our whole lives, I think we’re fine.”

“Seph, I want that more than anything,” Connor breathed.

“Excellent,” J.T. said with a huge grin. “I’ll get you flowers and romantic shit later, girlfriend.”

“Please don’t call me ‘girlfriend’ like that,” laughed Connor.

J.T. agreed, “Yeah, I didn’t like that either.”

Their waiter reappeared with their meals and Connor’s shake. The two of them ate quickly, not talking, just wanting to get out of the restaurant and go somewhere alone. J.T. paid for their food, then, tightly clutching Connor’s hand, led her out to her car.

They quickly clambered into Connor’s car. J.T. kept a firm hand on her thigh and Connor began to drive, with no idea where she was going, thoughts racing. She didn’t know if her sister was home, since she was a teacher and it was summer vacation, and she eventually found an empty parking lot. She threw the car into park, turned it off, and nearly threw herself across the center console into J.T.’s lap, straddling him.

J.T. grabbed her hips to help her over, then let his hands drift down slightly to grip her ass. Connor stared at him for a moment, not moving, not kissing him, just staring into his dark brown eyes. She brought her hands to his face and dragged her fingertips delicately across his stubble.

“You shaved,” Connor commented.

“You told me my playoff beard looked terrible,” J.T. laughed. “You told me it was too long and that you liked stubble like this.”

Connor furrowed her brow. “Did I? When did I say that?”

“When we were drunk on the roof on my Cup day.”

“I thought you didn’t remember that I showed up.”

“I lied,” J.T. shrugged. “I remember everything. The way you danced on me, everything I told you, all of it. You were freaked out, so I pretended I didn’t remember.”

“You could’ve just told me it was the truth,” Connor teased.

“And be vulnerable? Nah.”

Connor laughed, then gasped slightly when she felt J.T. shift under her, sending a small bump of pleasure through her. She put her hands on his chest to try and halt him, but he grinned and rolled his hips into hers, slowly and intentionally.

“Asshole,” Connor groaned. “You haven’t even kissed me yet and you’re sitting there teasing me like that?”

J.T. didn’t answer; instead, he gripped her ass, pulling her down while he rolled his hips again, increasing the friction and pressure against her core. She closed her eyes as the pleasure washed over her.

“Joseph,” said Connor desperately. “Joseph, I’m so close already, you have to stop.”

“You’re about to come already?” he mocked. “I’ve barely touched you.”

“Shut up and fucking kiss me, you dick,” Connor commanded. She leaned in and fiercely pressed her lips against hers, pressing into his body eagerly. J.T. chuckled against her mouth before giving into her and softly parting his lips. His tongue darted out to brush against Connor’s lips.

Connor pulled back, gasping for air. She’d forgotten how to breathe, how to speak, how to function.

“Are you okay?” J.T. asked. “We can stop if this is too much.”

“Please don’t stop,” Connor whispered. “I just forgot to breathe.”

“Breathing is pretty important,” J.T. laughed, licking his lips and grinning slyly.

Connor knew what he was about to do and warned, “Joseph, don’t you d—.”

J.T. held tightly to Connor’s ass as he rolled his hips up into Connor’s core. Connor clenched around nothing, once again dangerously close to coming.

“Fuck!” Connor yelped.

“I wanna make you come,” J.T. whined, bucking his hips up again.

“This is how you wanna make me come for the first time? Dry humping like teenagers?” Connor asked incredulously.

“Mmm-hmm,” he responded. “Please?”

“If you promise to do better later.”

J.T. cocked his eyebrow. “Later?”

“Yeah, later, when I kick my sister out so we can properly fuck,” Connor said.

“So,” J.T. tugged her in close, nipping at her lips. “How do you want me to make you come later?”

Connor breathed out a moan when J.T. began kissing down her neck. “Um…”

“I’m listening,” J.T. mumbled against her. He softly bit her neck and sucked the skin between his teeth.

“No hickies,” she said quickly. “We aren’t teenagers.”

“Mmm, but here we are, dry humping in my car like we’re sixteen,” teased J.T.. He bucked his hips up into hers again and she jumped as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Um,” Connor gasped, “I want you to make me come with your mouth.”

“Keep going.”

Connor rolled her hips, her mouth falling open a tiny bit as she dragged herself across J.T.’s hardening cock. His breath caught as she did, and her thoughts went fuzzy at the sound. He was moaning like that because of her.

“I,” Connor breathed and continued rolling her hips, establishing a slow rhythm that ground into him as much as she could. “I wanna feel your stubble between my thighs.”

“My tongue on your clit,” he whispered. His grip tightened on her ass and she felt dizzy.

“Fuck,” squeaked Connor. She could feel her orgasm building again quickly.

J.T. lazily mouthed at her neck, driving the pace of her grinding with his hands and matching it with the rolling of his hips. “Bet you taste so fuckin’ good,” he mumbled.

Connor clenched her thighs tightly over him and moaned, “Oh fuck, J.T., I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah? I wanna feel you clench your thighs like that around my face,” J.T. continued, dragging his mouth across her neck, searching for her lips. “Wanna slide my tongue all around your pussy while you—”

“Shit, I’m coming,” Connor groaned as a soft orgasm washed through her, leaving her feeling cold. She clenched around nothing, but kept grinding against J.T. until she was too sensitive to continue and twitched to a stop with a small gasp.

“No, fuck, don’t stop,” J.T. grunted desperately. “I’m so close too, holy shit.”

Connor carefully re-established her previous pace, grinding on J.T.. His hands froze when Connor captured his lips in hers and placed open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

“Come for me, J.T.,” Connor muttered into his skin.

“Oh my god,” yelped J.T.. Connor felt his dick twitch, then a small wet spot slowly appeared through his gray sweatpants.

“Oops,” Connor giggled. She softly pressed the wet spot and J.T. jumped.

“Fuck!” he gasped in surprise, then laughed. “Oh, God, I do feel like a teenager.”

“You came in your pants dry humping in a car.”

“So did you!” J.T. protested.

“Yeah, but no one will know that I did.” Connor smirked.

J.T. rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Drive somewhere soon, please, because if I don’t get my mouth on you in the next twenty minutes, I’m gonna put you on the trunk of your car and fuck you with my tongue in front of anyone and everyone who’s around.”

The call came a few weeks after Connor registered as a free agent with the PHF.

“Hello?” Connor answered the unknown number.

“Hi, is this Connor Maddox?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“Hi, Connor, this is Ronda Engelhardt. I’m the head coach of the Minnesota Whitecaps. How are you today?”

Holy fuck.

“Hi, uh, I’m, uh, I’m great.”

“That’s good to hear. I saw that you registered as a free agent with the league, and I was wondering if you’d be interested in coming to a tryout day with us,” Ronda explained. “Your history is different than what we’re used to, but I’ve heard some really good things about you.”

“From who?” Connor smiled, knowing the answer already.

“Jesse Compher from the US National Team. She gave me a call and recommended you.”

Connor’s smile widened. “I figured. I’ve known Jesse our whole lives.”

“She credited you with being the reason she made the Olympics and the reason her brother just won a Stanley Cup. That’s high praise, and I don’t take that lightly, which is why we’d love to fly you up to St. Paul. How does that sound to you?”

“I would love that,” Connor said, “I just have a couple questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course! Ask away!”

“I currently manage a rink myself, and I understand that most of the ladies have to have extra jobs to supplement their income. Is that something that I would be able to continue doing?”

“I think we could make that work for you, Connor.”

The next day, Connor found herself on a flight to St. Paul. As she waited in the airport, she nervously texted J.T..

Connor (8:32 AM)

Seph I’m terrified

Joseph The Idiot (8:33 AM)

You’re gonna be fine

You just go and be yourself

They already like you

Connor (8:35 AM)

They like what they saw on paper and what Jesse told them, not me

Joseph The Idiot (8:38 AM)

Which is why you’re going to meet them

And play for them

Chemistry is more important than skill

Connor (8:40 AM)

But what if all the girls hate me?

Joseph The Idiot (8:42 AM)

That’s impossible

Since I personally know at least one of them, I can guarantee at least one of them won’t hate you

Taylor Turnquist

Connor (8:45 AM)

So that’s one

Joseph The Idiot (8:46 AM)

Which means it’s impossible for all the girls to hate you

Connor (8:47 AM)

Asshole

Joseph The Idiot (8:48 AM)

A correct asshole

Connor (8:50 AM)

I’m boarding, love you seph

Joseph The Idiot (8:51 AM)

Love you too duck

Safe travels

Connor (10:23 AM)

Landed!

Joseph The Idiot (10:26 AM)

Good!

Did they get a car for you?

Connor (10:28 AM)

Supposedly

Joseph The Idiot (10:31 AM)

Let me know if they didn’t okay?

Connor (10:33 AM)

If they did, do you not wanna know?

Joseph The Idiot (10:34 AM)

I walked into that one didn’t I

Let me know when you’re safe

Connor (10:46 AM)

I have a car! The driver had a sign! I’m on my way to the arena

Joseph The Idiot (10:49 AM)

Send pics!

Connor (11:02 AM)

Just got to the arena! They’re giving me a tour first

We’re in the locker room and they already have a locker with my name on it? And a jersey and gear? I haven’t even skated yet

Okay now I’m gonna skate with Ronda

Joseph The Idiot (12:00 PM)

How goes it?

Connor (12:04 PM)

Just got off the ice! Ronda’s awesome and I think they’re going to offer me

Joseph The Idiot (12:07 PM)

SERIOUSLY?

Connor (12:25 PM)

I just signed a contract Seph

Joseph The Idiot (12:26 PM)

Oh my fucking god

I’m so fucking proud of you

I love you so much

I cant wait to see you play

What number are you?

I need to buy a jersey

Think you can hook me up?

I’m so proud of you duck holy shit

Connor skated out onto the ice as her name was called by the announcer, clad in her Whitecaps jersey. She looked up into the stands and grinned up at J.T., who’d flown over for the game specifically: her first game. He sat next to Tyson Jost, and grinned down at her when he made eye contact with her. He blew her a kiss, which she caught, and Tyson gagged. J.T. shoved him.

The game went by faster than any of her games ever had, and before she knew it, she was showering in the locker room after the game. She quickly redressed in her game-day outfit, then walked out of the locker room. Connor was greeted by a huge hug from J.T..

“You did it!” he cheered, swinging her around and kissing her face. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I wouldn’t have done it without you, honestly,” Connor said. “You mentioned it to me and put it in my head, and now here I am.”

“You’re a professional hockey player, Duck.”

“So are you, Seph.”

“You’re better,” J.T. retorted.

“You make more money. And you won the Stanley Cup.”

J.T. chuckled and let her down on the ground, kissing her forehead. “Whatever, you still did it.”

“I know something else I’d like to do,” Connor said slyly, smirking at her boyfriend.

J.T. grinned at her. “Then let’s get out of here.”

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