#but i'll chill for like a few more weeks before I really start art again- this was like a hand test to see where I'm at
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mousewhisker
#warriors#warrior cats#thunderclan#mousewhisker#this was the second drawing I was talking about#I just finished drawing it hahah#I think I'll keep my art hiatus going#my hand still doesn't feel at its 100%#but the shots have helped!#but i'll chill for like a few more weeks before I really start art again- this was like a hand test to see where I'm at#it's been a while since I drew so this helped me a lot#anyways! I hope everyone has an amazing day/night
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Can you write Wally tending to a GN reader SH scars after noticing them, if u don't want that's chill but oml I love how you write him 👌
Sure can do!
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|| Wally Darling x GN!Reader ||
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⚠️CW // this story contains self-harm, talk about depression, talk about feeling worthless. Please read at your own caution⚠️
Art done by: @/partycoffin
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You haven't been the same these past few weeks. You stopped hanging around your friends. Stopped accepting their invites to go out a play.
Julie asked if you wanted to come over and play business woman and play the role of her assistant like you always did....You declined.
Frank asked if you wanted to go and look at some butterflies with him at the park because they were your favorite bugs. You told him another time.
Eddie asked if you wanted to help him deliver some mail because you always enjoyed walking around in your little mailman uniform. You said you were too busy.
Wally...Wally darling had invited you to come over to his house so you could do your casual afternoon finger painting. You had always loved painting with wally. And sharing your silly little artworks after they dried. You enjoyed it so very much. Sitting on the ground, painting in silence and exchanging glances.
It was nice.
"Oh...I'm really sorry wally but- I think I might just stay home today. Maybe we can paint next week. I'll...talk to you later. Goodbye." You hung up the phone before wally could even respond. It was at that moment he knew something was wrong. You sounded very weak and tired. Almost as if you'd been crying before he called you. He took notice that you barely even stepped out of your house anymore. And if you did it was only for a little bit so you could get some fresh air. And you always wore a long sleeved sweater while outside. Which strange to the curious fellow. It was warm out so what was the need to wear a sweater?
Wally put down his phone and walked over to the window staring outside. Straight to your house. He caught you at the right moment. There you were. Wearing that same sweater as you stepped out the door and let out a small stretch and yawn. That was when wally caught a glimpse of your exposed wrist. It looked like some repeatedly scratched at your skin till it was red and bleeding. Something was most definitely wrong.
"Hmm...I think (y/n) is hiding something...don't you think home?" Wally asked, his chin resting at the palm of his hand as he continued to stare at you getting some fresh air before quickly walking back inside your house again. Home creaked in response. "It seems she doesn't us to know about something...I'll go over and ask." Wally mumbled to himself as he stepped outside and headed over.
Just as he was making his way to your house Julie spotted her neighbor and skipped over towards him. "Hey wally! Are you heading over to (y/n)'s house?" She asked in a curious tone. "Yes I am Julie. I would like to ask why (y/n) hasn't come out to play with us these past few days." Julie reached down and grabbed the others hands. "Will you please let (y/n) know that we all miss playing with them? I've been playing business women with frank but he just makes it boring!" Julie cried. "Hey! I heard that julie!" Frank shouted as he stomped over to the 2 other neighbors. "If you didn't start destroying things everytime we set up our office maybe I'd be more into it." Frank scolded before letting out a sigh. "Wally I assume you're heading to (y/n)'s house?" Frank asked. Wally hummed and nodded. "Kindly let us know if there's anything we can do for them. I've been getting awfully worried lately." Wally nodded again, growing eager to get to your house already. "I'll let them know you're all wo-"
"HEY GUYS! ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT (Y/N)?"
Eddie called out a couple feet away as he waved his arms in the air. "Eddie! Keep it down! We don't want (y/n) to know!" Frank huffed placing his hands on his hips. Eddie let out a small chuckle. "Whoops, sorry bout that. Oh! Wally you're heading over to (y/n)'s house now right?" Eddie asked. "Yes I am." Wally simply responded. Eddie stuffed his hand into his bag and pulled out a stack of mail handing it over to the smaller puppet. "Could ya give these to (y/n)? Last time I tried handing them their mail they didn't answer the door so I just kept them for safety." Wally nodded and grabbed the mail. It was quite a thick stack too.
"OH- and also could you-" "OK THAT'S ENOUGH! We're keeping wally here far too long now he's probably waiting for us to stop yapping! Go on and go over to (y/n)'s house already Wally and, let us know how it goes." Frank quickly spoke before h dragged Julie and Eddie by their hands before they could open their mouths once more.
Wally softly chuckled to himself before have continued to make his way towards your house. He softly knocked on the door 3 times and waited for you to answer. "Hello? (Y/n) it's me wally. Are you home?" He asked in his soft voice. Just before he thought you wouldn't answer the sound of the door know jiggle caught his attention. You slowly opened the door looking up at the dopey eyed puppet. "Oh, uh...hi wally. Is there...something you needed?" You asked only peeking your head out. "Eddie wanted me to give you these." Wally handed you the mail. Your eyes slightly widened at the amount there was. You kept yourself from pouting. "Oh geez. Thank you for giving these to me wally." You spoke in that unusual weak tone. "You're very welcome neighbor."
The 2 of you stood in silence before wally spoke up again. "May I come inside?" He asked in his usual soft polite voice. You didn't want any company at the moment but you couldn't say no to his face after telling you didn't want to hang out over the phone. You nodded and opened the door some more allowing your friend to walk inside.
Wally hummed as a thank you as he stepped inside. His eyes scanned the entirety of the house. There was tons of crumbled paper laying on the floor. All the lights where off too. That was something you'd usually never do. "Boy...it's pretty dark in here. I can hardly see you." Wally mentioned staring at your dim colored figure. Before you could respond wally reached over and flipped the light switch on. Your pupils dialed at the sudden brightness as you rushed to cover your eyes, blocking out the light. "There thats much better. Now I can see you more." Wally hummed turning to stare at you.
"Uh...yeah...was there anything you needed?" You asked not moving your hands away from your face. Wally nodded and stepped forward. "Yes there is. I came over here to ask you a question." You slowly removed your hands from your face, looking up at your neighbor with tired eyes. "What's the question?" You asked nervously.
Wally stepped more closer, staring deep into your eyes. "Well you see. The others and I have been very worried about you (y/n)-" he started. "We haven't been able to play with you like we used to. So I wanted to ask if you're doing okay." Waves a guilt flooded your mind. You didn't mean to cause your friends to worry about you so much. "Is there something wrong?" Wally asked waiting for you to respond. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. "Y-yeah! Everything is fine! I've just been really really tired!" You spoke in your best enthusiastic voice you could. Wally stared...he didn't seem to believe you.
"Are you sure?" He asked. You nodded your head. "Absolutely positively sure!" You sung faking a smile.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"You're lying."
Your entire body tensed up. Your breath caught in your chest. Your mouth hanging open. You couldn't find the right words to speak. Your hands lay limp at your sides.
"Wh-what do you m-"
"I can tell when somethings wrong (y/n). It's as plain as those cuts on your wrists." Wally spoke, his eyes traveling down to your clothed arms. You let out a shaky breath watching as he reached out and softly grabbed hold of your arm, slowly pulling the sleeve up. You couldn't read the look on his face. His usual smile didn't leave his lips.
You just watched as he stared at your skin. Scars old and new covered up and down your arms. Thin and and think. Deep and light. Different shades of red painted across your pale colored skin. Your arm thin and frail. You winced as wally lightly grazed his fingers over your cuts. "What are these?" He asked. You refused to respond. "Is this what you've been doing these past few days while staying locked up in your house?" He asked another question. Again, you refused to answer. "Hmm...this isn't good at all. Not. At. All." You panicked feeling his grip on your arm behind to tighten for a moment.
Wally let out a sigh and loosened his grip. He looked back at you. Same expression painted on his face. "Will you let me help clean you up?" He asked with a hint of worry in his tone. You stayed silent but nodded your head. Wally let go of your arm and held your hand, intertwining your fingers as he walked you over to your bedroom. "I'm assuming gou have a first aid kit somewhere right?" He asked sitting you down on your bed. "Yes. In my nightstand in the 3rd drawer." You pointed beside the bed.
After grabbing the kit and taking out the materials wally looked up at your face as he kneeled down infront of you. "...what?" You asked. "May you take off your sweater so it can be easier to clean up your arms?" He politely asked pulling at the hem of your sweater. You let out a slightly annoyed whine but did as he asked. "Very good. Thank you (y/n)." He hummed.
You stayed silent watching as wally grabbed a cottonball and lightly dosed it in cleaning solution. "Would you mind telling me...what made you do this to yourself?" He asked as he lightly pressed the damp ball against the first cut watching your flinch from the stinging sensation. You stayed quiet for a minute before you decided to talk.
"I'm...I'm an awful friend" you whispered in a shakey voice. Wally stay silent letting you continue while he concentrated on cleaning up your cuts. "I ruin everything. I can't do anything right to help my friends." You sobbed. " 2 weeks ago I was playing office with julie and I ended up knocking over desk and breaking her favorite lamp that was on top of it. And when I was with frank watching some butterflies, he found one he had never seen before and was so excited about it. But I accidently scared it away. And when I helped Eddie with the mail I stupidly mixed up everyone's mail together. Eddie had to work extra hard that day because of me!" You let the tears spill from your eyes like waterfalls while you choked on your words. "And when we painted together I spilt an entire bucket of paint all over your picture ruining it! I'm so stupid! I keep messing everything up- I can't do anything right for my friends!"
Wally continued to stay silent while focusing on your arms. After he finished cleaning up all the dry and fresh blood he started placing band-aids on every single cut. "I didn't mean to make everyone worry about me. I just thought that after that you guys wouldn't wanna see me anymore. Why would YOU even want to hang out with me. I just make things worse. Staying home was the only thing I could do." You spoke between sobs. Tasting your salty tears that slid down your read flushed cheeks.
After wally was done blanketing your arms in band-aids he held your hands in his. His thumbs softly circling the top of your hands for comfort. "Do you know why we like to play with you (y/n)?" He asked staring into your eyes, watching you shake your head. "It's because we like to play with you. No one is mad at you for your small mistakes hun. Nobody's perfect after all."
"But...you are" you mumbled.
Wally tilted his head to the side. His eyes not leaving yours. "Why can't I be more like you? Calm, good at drawing...I'm nothing like you." You softly complained. "And that's a good thing" wally sung as he continued to massage your hands with his thumbs. "It wouldn't be twice as fun if you were like me. I like you as you (y/n). And so does everyone else." He spoke softly grabbing your hands and lifting them up having you lightly cup his cheeks in the palms of your hands. "You're such a funny person. Julie, frank, eddie and the other enjoy playing with you. I like playing with you too... you're so much fun to be around~." wally hummed pressing soft kisses against your wrist. Your heart started to race.
"You're really fun to be around. And it makes me so sad knowing you felt that way. I'm your best friend after all. I should have known you were so upset" wally softly spoke, nuzzling his face against your hand. "I'm really sorry you've been so upset (y/n). Could you ever forgive me?" He asked. His voice almost cracking. You stared at wally as tears continued to well up in the corners of your eyes. "Oh wally...please don't apologize. It's not your fault at all. I'm sorry I never said anything sooner. I was just...too scared to say anything." You mumbled, stroking the pad of your thumb against his cheek.
Wally closed his eyes, going limp in your touch. "Will you promise me the next time you're feeling sad you'll come talk to me about it?" You softly smiled and nodded your head. "I cross my heart and promise I will." You leaned over wrapping your arms around his neck bringing him in for a hug. Wally buried his face in the crook of his neck.
"Thank you for being such a good friend Wally."
"Anything for you (y/n) after all... What are friends for?"
THE END.
♡~||AH I've never written a story like this so I hope I did a good job! Thank you very much for the ask. If you'd like to request a story feel free to send me on in my answer box||~♡
#welcomehomearg#welcomehome#welcome home puppet show#welcome home fanfiction#welcome home wally#welcome home wallg darling#wally darling#wally darling x reader#wally x reader#fanfiction#x reader#canon x self insert#canon x y/n#self insert
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Becca's Brunch
Welcome! Consider this my new Sunday Rundown. It's Saturday, though? Yup, it is. But I have a busy weekend ahead and needed to tell myself I'm somewhat prepared. Anyways, consider it a WIP for now that I'll probably add more things to next week.
While you brunch, try to take a few moments for yourself. Take a deep breath, unclench your jaw, grab a sweet treat and a coffee and lets go!
Or, stuff that I got around to reading. A quick reminder that what I may like, you may not and that's okay! Most, if not all of the below are 18+. Please heed individual warnings on fics!
My TBR is piling high once again but here's what I did get around to.
Marcus Pike:
can you ever really know? by @undercoverpena
Headshots & Salty & Sweet by @secretelephanttattoo
Joel Miller:
Cornfields by @trulybetty from her autumnal offerings
Javier Pena:
A Paranoid Heart by @goodwithcheese (new chapter)
AKA, things that caught my eye and any other shenanigans that happened round here this week.
WELL. The poll, right? The one I posted for a little bit of fun has now snowballed into something much larger but you know what? Sometimes the unexpected is exactly what you need and the universe will find a way. And let us thank @for-a-longlongtime for starting the fic as a result.
This incredible art by @stealyourblorbos
AKA, the personal stuff and some NSFAQs (Not So Frequently Asked Questions because I don't think I ever properly introduced myself).
Did you ever have one of those weeks where you bit off more than you could chew? I did that. I booked myself in to do something after work every night last week and boy do I feel it. But it's okay, I get to go for brunch today and chill tomorrow.
Why are you here?
The Mandalorian. The voice got me and well, the rest ishistory. Now I'm here, amongst some of the sweetest, most encouraging people on a little corner of the internet. I love you all, very, very much and thank you for having me!
What do you do when you're not here?
I'm a 9-5er. Or an 8-4er on somedays, depending. I work a lot with archives and stuff. I read a lot in work.
Have you been involved in fandom before?
Hmm. From a distance maybe. But not like this.
Who's the first FBI Agent you fell in love with?
Ah, easy. Fox Mulder. The Bubble was a fuckin' delight for me, I have no shame in saying that.
How'd you come up with your user name?
I wanted a play on words and it came to me when I was deep cleaning the fridge. Wild, I know! I was very surprised it wasn't taken already.
That milestone you reached last week, what are you doing for it?
I want to. But I'm undecided as of yet! If you have any ideas, please let me know.
Will you ever take requests?
Tough one. I'm not a quick writer. I'd hate to rush an idea then have after thoughts y'know?
You have your anons turned off. What's up with that?
Ugh. Man. As much as I try not to, I can still take things very personally. I'm sure all the anons are lovely.
Can I ask you anything, though?
HELL YEAH. That makes day! Send me a message, come get crazy about a character with me, I love nothing more.
What's your coffee order?
An oat flat white.
What's your sweet treat of choice?
A vegan mixed Berry croissant. Not vegan, just can't handle dairy!
Can you swim?
No I cannot. Which is dangerous consider I'm near a Pike Puddle, a Catfish Pond and a Rockford Rockpool at any given time!
What's on repeat right now?
What's happening with your fics, Becca?
Glad you asked. I've been blessed/cursed with ADHD. Which means, for me, I'll hyperfocus on something for HOURS or procrastinate like you wouldn't believe. I just gotta get on a decent schedule, this just wasn't the week for it unfortunately. So, please bear with because I do have ideas! Will I get sidetracked? Yes. If my brain feels like it wants to create something then and there, I cannot stop it. But it's a really nice stress reliever for me in a way, I get to think and focus on one thing and not about what has happened or what will happen.
Also, I got some divine inspiration yesterday for Video Nasty III when I saw this:
Becca 🤍
If you made it this far, I love you very much. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. Please be good to yourself and others, you deserve it!
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tour de fleece (crash)
ok, so the tour de fleece ended, and i...did not do so great. i did really well for the first bit, and then we went to sheep and wool. and sheep and wool was amazing and delightful and i had an amazing time, but also: i'm disabled, and the crash from putting out that much energy was, uh, intense. i basically couldn't do anything for a week, and even spinning on my eel wheel in bed was too much to manage.
so i didn't. i picked up over the weekend, the last two days of the tour, and (very slowly) managed to spin some lovely rambouillet that i think will stay a singles—we'll see what it looks like after it's had a week to chill out on the bobbin.
(yeah, there's a couple little pigtaily bits, but (1) i literally finished the spin about thirty seconds before taking this photo, and (2) i prefer to spin at very low tension for most things, so it doesn't always wind on evenly. i suspect they'll go away.)
i'm not thrilled about how this ended for me, but when i made my tour de fleece plans, we hadn't decided to go to bendigo yet, so they were sort of overly ambitious. i also, uh, thought that the tour de fleece ran the entirety of july, and not just the first three weeks? so i thought that i had more time that i did, right until i started seeing people posting about the final stretch and went WAIT WHAT?
goals (link to original) and how they went:
spin a chunky yarn. i absolutely did not do this, and didn't even really think about it. i may just...keep not doing it. i still don't enjoy chunky yarns. maybe that's fine.
spin a singles yarn. see above! this one actually worked out ok, i think. i'm pretty sure it's going to stay a singles, and at minimum, it could stay a singles if i wanted it to.
spin some sock yarn. i didn't expect to finish this in july, but actually, yes i did! unwashed, it's about 25 wpi, which i'm pleased with. (it'll puff up some, but it's fairly firm, so i think not a ton.) unfortunately, i once again succumbed to the fallacy that i knit socks from 100g of commercial yarn, so 100g of fibre should be plenty for socks! it. is not. i think that washed up, i'll have about 225m, which might be enough for like, ankle socks. i'm gonna try, anyhow, but next time i say the words 'spinning for socks', someone please remind me that i want to spin at least 150g.
spin a breed i've never spun before. not a breed, and not much of it, but i actually did spin some bamboo fibre this month, and that's the first time i spun it and it wasn't a blend, so i think that counts.
spin this chunk of polwarth i dyed a few weeks back and am desperate to get my hands into. this was a just-for-fun addition that i absolutely did not get to, and am mad about. it's probably what i'm spinning next.
dye some wool in colours i don't usually use—the red-orange-yellow end of things. this was meant to be my second dye of the month, but didn't happen—the spin above is from fibre i dyed a couple years ago. i think it'll still happen in the near future, as my kid picked up a spindle at sheep and wool, and they fuckin love orange.
dye something brightly coloured. this one happened! i dyed some grey and white merino into a vivid purple. i'm thinking about blending in a little silk and sparkle.
make 20 rolags with hand cards. hahaha ha hahahaha no. i think i made four. the rolags will continue until the rolags improve, but i did not meet this goal even a little
stretch goals:
spin a four ply. surprisingly, yes! the sock yarn mentioned above is four ply, and i'm pretty pleased with it. i would, obviously, be more pleased if i'd remembered the whole density issue, but it's a very consistent four-ply sock weight, so i'm calling it a win.
spin a textured yarn. i did not do this. maybe later? maybe not, honestly. i feel like i should like textured yarns and chunky yarns and art yarns, but in my heart, i just don't. i'm impressed when other people make them, but maybe that's not reason enough to make them myself.
ok, spelling it all out like that makes me feel a little less bad. at no point did i say that i couldn't combine goals, so i achieved exactly half of those things. which isn't great, but isn't as bad as i thought. maybe next year i'll remember that 'do things you don't enjoy' doesn't really make for fun challenges for yourself, too.
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1/9/23
Good lord, New Year's was over a week ago. What a trip.
Today... well, I've already posted today... so... there's that. That was a very different way to start the day, and honestly it was pretty cathartic. I came out of writing and did yoga, it wasn't as intense as the past few days have been. Maybe I was doing some of the poses wrong, I don't know. But I really do struggle to keep up, it's a weird thing. This one was a lot more about just transitioning between poses by following the breath, but my breathing was at a very different pace than hers, so I would either be straining to hold my breath at awkward times, waiting for instructions... or breathing faster than I wanted to in order to catch up. It got a bit frustrating. But, that's how it goes sometimes. It was still good. I did feel a bit of a pain in my hip today, that's been a big limitation for me. My range of motion in my hips and pain in my hip flexors specifically. I'm pretty sure the problem is that my abs and back muscles are way out of shape and my hips are compensating, but at this point it just feels like a whole body problem. Beyond the frustration of it all, that sharp pain was a bit concerning. But it was just momentary and didn't happen again, so I'm not going to linger on that concern.
I finished up my sister in law's present. I hopped in the shower. I was going to cut my hair, that was my plan, but I ran short on time. Guess why? Got distracted. Big surprise. But I was not just on-time for my dinner with my brother, sister in law and nephew, I was actually 10 minutes early. I was the first person there.
I was... well... I felt horribly out of place. I have been living in poverty for a long time. I mean... a weird contemporary amalgamation of poverty and luxury. Like... I have a drawing tablet for art stuff... but my clothes are almost all 10 years old and I can't remember the last time I ate out. I haven't gotten a haircut by someone other than myself since Obama was in office. I mean, the people at the front desk or whatever, podium? What the fuck do you call that? XD Were wearing suits and ties and shit. I don't even remember the last time I've seen someone wearing a suit and tie. Maybe my brother's wedding? Just... fish out of water feeling. I didn't want to go inside, get this, I was afraid they would think I was homeless and trying to like steal peoples' food or get inside somewhere warm. Yeah. Totally don't have an anxiety and depression problem, folks.
But I did go in, I chilled for a bit and met up with them when they got there and... they brought a friend, too. Which was a surprise, I was really not expecting it. A female friend, around our age. My guess would be that she is a little older than me, but she seemed really nice and kind, attractive. Fine, I'll get into it already. Here's my problem, as I lectured myself in the kitchen after I got home. I romanticize. Not just... romantically, but like... even with friends and stuff. I've mentioned this before but it was super glaringly obvious for me today. I see like two things in common and I go "wow, this is the one, huh." My brain is going really fast on this one, I'm having trouble keeping up with my thoughts. Because this is the exact problem I had with my ex. I saw that we had a few things in common - which we actually didn't, she just showed an interest in what I was passionate about and hid all her interests and life from me, super healthy - and I wasn't even really that physically attracted to her, and I just said "screw it". I don't want to make it sound all horrible, because we did have some good times and we did become good friends for a bit there, but... the things that I overlooked were pretty critical, were glaringly obvious from the very start and were the inevitable downfall of the relationship. So I'm just... I mean... protective brain kicks in in the background. PTSD brain. That goes... "be careful, dogg". "You sure?" "Do you really feel this way or is this just because she's the first single female you've seen in person in like 3+ years after being in prolonged extreme isolation?" And let me clarify, this wasn't even lust or love, this was just over like genuine interest in being friends. And I'm having this kind of thought process. My brain stampedes off to... "what if we end up sleeping together and it doesn't work out and it gets super awkward and she's obviously good friends with my brother and his wife so like... do I really want to jeopardize that?" And at this point, I'm even struggling to remember her name! My brain is fucking annoying sometimes.
To be honest, that thought-train didn't really kick into full gear until the end of dinner and the walk back. Especially the walk back. Because we all said goodbye and we hugged, mostly because my sister in law hugged me and it was just sort of a thing. And she was asking if I was "a hugger" as she approached and I just sorta went with it because I will take all the physical affection I can fucking get, it is like someone offering you coffee on the house in the morning, good god, you really think I'm gonna turn that down?! And as she was approaching she was saying, "you know, with Covid and all..." as we hugged. And it just passed right through me. And as I walked back home, it hit me. And I was just like... dude... I got my two shots back in like... 2021? Yeah, May 2021. And I haven't gotten a single booster. I didn't even really leave the house since then. And it's been on my mind big time lately with all the social pressures to go out and reintegrate in society again. I think it's a big factor holding me back with going out and doing shit. And I just had this feeling like... like I just had sex without a condom. You know? And I hate that, because I didn't feel that way with my sister-in-law and she is a doctor. Like, she's in close contact with sick people constantly. And we were just in a somewhat crowded restaurant. But yeah. I feel rude for having had that thought directed specifically at her. But, in my defense... it was physical intimacy. With someone that I was attracted to. Without using prophylaxis. And that's a very unique feeling. And I'm pretty sure it was the catalyst that set off that whole PTSD alert bells thing. Because it's waaaaay too easy to peer pressure me into being unsafe by dangling affection in front of me, and I have needed to work on that for a while now. It's just like... how do you practice when you're only looking for "the one"? Ugh, it's a whole thing.
So... that was unexpected. Not bad at all, and possibly a new friend in the area. She was interested in getting into wire-wrapping stones, she had tried it before and couldn't get it to work, so there's an icebreaker right there. And she's into yoga too, but I'm... I'm very bad at it, to be honest. I give it my all, but it's definitely embarrassing and I'm self conscious about it. Even if we're just friends, I'm 100% open to hanging out, it might actually be much easier that way for me. Think I'm getting ahead of myself much? But, I didn't get her number or anything, we just all said goodbye and went separate ways. So... I guess we'll see how it plays out from here. I'm not gonna stress it anymore tonight.
I met my nephew. He's a riot! We had the whole... he got upset when he first met me thing, which happens sometimes and I'm pretty sure I've had it happen to me before? Either way, I didn't take it personally and he sat next to me at the table and I got to chill with him. Spending a huge amount of time with animals helped me a lot in understanding how to communicate and interact with children of that age. They seem like they're even less "there" than like... adult cats and shit. But constantly thinking, always thinking. You can tell. I feel like cats and dogs don't think as often as we do, as frequently, you know? But yeah, I have been really priding myself in my ability to communicate with animals pretty clearly and openly, even animals I have just met for the first time. This was the next level, and it was really cool to have body language conversations and see him start to mimic my behaviors and sorta... invent games. Like he did this thing where he turned his head away and then looked back, so I would do the same and make a shocked YouTuber face and he'd laugh. Then he'd repeat it by turning his head again, like he was pressing a button on a machine or something, like it only took 2 or 3 times for him to learn that if he turned his head, I would turn mine too. Such a quick learning curve, crazy. It was so nice. Though, I was quickly reminded of how long it had been since I last was around an infant. Reminded by myself, of course... I wouldn't shut up about it.
Do you know how awkward it is to... try to avoid explaining how you used to be someone's godfather? Like... trying to tell someone you were in the military without saying you were dishonorably discharged? Or say you went to Yale, but avoid mentioning that you failed out? Something like that. I'm sure they didn't notice at all, my inner broadcaster/streamer/radio host comes out and takes care of the dialogue when that happens. I have to trust he knows what he's doing there. --- My cat is quietly snoring next to me, it distracted me. She's been adorable tonight, just sleeping and cuddling.
But yeah, I just really wanted to share my experience of being a father figure. It was incredibly short-lived, only a few months, but it was one of my most proud and just like... in-the-right-place moments I've had in life. And that was like... I want to say maybe 9 years ago? I don't know, I can't process time anymore. Maybe 10? I just really like sharing the story of how the original Twilight Zone episodes helped her fall asleep and were something entertaining for me to watch. That memory, the black and white screen and tin-can sounding audio, the taste of red Monster Ultra and White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Clif Bars, the smell of... all of those chaotic home smells when you have an infant in the house. It was a really important time in my life, and I like to share it with others. I like to relive it, and I want that time to be of value to others, too. So, I tried to suggest it to my brother in case he had trouble getting his son to nap. Just trying to be helpful. But I'm sure some psychologists out there would probably have some words about that, with their speculative whatever, as though the kid can even process what's on the screen.
Aaaaanyway. That was a lot. That was like... my first time going out into the world and being a normal person eating dinner out in a restaurant since well before the pandemic. And, to be honest, I didn't really miss it. Like... I never really liked it in the first place. It's loud. There are tons of people. It's sensory overload for me. Too many lights, too much movement, too many sounds, people completely disregarding personal space, shit like that. I really prefer dinners at home. Like, I mean this, if we just got the same furniture as the restaurant and put it in my place, then I picked up the food for takeout and we ate at my place, I would have liked it much more. I would have enjoyed the experience more. I think. Though, to be fair, when in a super overstimulating environment like that, it offers me many more outs for getting distracted. Like it seems like it's more socially acceptable for me to be staring off at the ceiling or something in an environment like that. But yeah.
That leaves me with... the vaccination thing. And I think I'm gonna go ahead and do it. Just get rid of that fucking anxiety. I might feel sick and shit for a few days? I don't think I did with the initial shots. That way it's just done, and I can go to the rock shop or the used furniture store and stop worrying about it. I have enough to worry about already.
Oh, yeah, last bit. I went ahead and shaved my head when I got home. I got this new headclipper that's circular, it's supposed to be specially designed for the uniform buzzcut that I've been doing the past year. And... it's not great. I mean, it's wireless which is fucking spectacular. And it cuts in all directions, which is crazy. But it doesn't do good with detail work, so I still need to use the old set of clippers. And I stupidly was trying to trim my beard with it and hit the wrong angle and trimmed it really short right at my chin, so I had to level the rest of it really short to even it out. My beard hasn't been this short in a while. It's a nice change, but like... unexpected. Don't know why I felt it was so important to share that, but yeah. New look, new role as uncle, new friend, new neighborhood, new dining experience. Lots of new.
OH and I got my ceramic tumbling medium so... there's a white noise hum in my apartment again! The tumbler is back up and running, stage 2 of the grind has begun. I'll check in on it in about... 2-3 days. But something tells me I'm going to sleep much better with that in the background. OH and I was talked into ordering wireless headphones - I got a good recommendation for headphones that will work well for sleep and for skating, so I'm stoked about that.
OH and I got to talk about the whole car situation and local alternatives like... ride-shares? Or something? I probably sound like a fucking coma patient to people from the city, but this stuff is all brand sparkling new to me. So like... I can pay a monthly fee and if i need a car to like... take my cat to the vet? Or go somewhere I don't feel like skating? I can just... take a designated car? Or something? I need to look into this. Because I am goddamn done with this rental car bullshit, I swear, that thing is gonna need neglect repairs from how little I use it, and I'm really getting really tired of waiting for my car to not be repaired. I'll just sell it to them, pocket the cash, buy a OneWheel and do this rideshare or whatever thing. Fuck it. And just get groceries delivered or some shit. Every time I entertain the idea, I really hope I'm not hobbling myself with it, but fuck it. Gotta shit or get off the pot with these things, or else some dealership will drain your bank account renting you a car for months at a time without calling to check in with you at all.
GRR. Done thinking about that shit. Good vibes. Hmm...
My sister in law loved the gift, and I mean... like... genuinely did. She's very bubbly and extroverted, but I heard a very different tone come out. That's why I love those pieces, that kind of thing. A handmade piece of artwork, or craftwork or whatever. It's something very special. It is not innately valuably expensive, like diamonds or a tech gadget or something. It's personal. It's handmade, hand-crafted specifically for someone. It has a really different effect. This piece, I harvested the stone from the earth itself. I broke the quartz free. I tumbled it over the course of over a month. I handpicked two pieces, deliberately paired, and hand-wrapped it with her in mind. Then made a custom inlay for the display box I ordered for it, hung it on a hand-made chain, and added in a sorta... plaque? Card? With a cutout section of a mandala on it. I was going to put black lettering over the brown mandala design, but I actually liked just having the mandala on it, so I left it. Seeing her genuine reaction to this, hearing the shift in her voice, seeing the change in her expression. That was very special to me. It made me feel like I was succeeding in doing a big part of my purpose on this planet.
My purpose is a hard one to define, because it's multifaceted, many of ours are, you know? But like... as far as profession goes... I am a creative. And my job, my purpose, is to express my perception of reality. To speak, to share. To express the way that I view the world, to share my perspective with others. So writing this journal has been absolutely crucial to my creative process, without this lifeline, my creativity would very likely have ebbed over the past few months. But I do struggle not only with getting my perspective to manifest effectively as... physical projects. As visual art. Most of my pieces lately have barely made it out of concept stage, or have been writing or musical. But I also struggle with the big one. (at least for me.) Connecting with people. Resonating. Online, it's very hard - near impossible - to tell if you're really resonating with someone. If they're feeling it. But today, I witnessed someone authentically resonate with what I created. It might not have been her exactly experiencing what I experience when this creative spark pops into my brain, that fascination and excitement, that awe. But it's definitely similar. And that echo. That magical inspiration spark of "oh WOW." Or "oh, holy shit, I get this, this speaks to me." I feel like that's a huge part of my purpose that's been missing. Like I have to not just find the spark, and grab the spark, and do the spark justice, but my goal is also to --- I'm having trouble wording this --- pass on the spark to others, echo it, elicit it within them. Not by my own coaxing or manipulation, but by their own genuine intrigue and openness to the beauty of the experience of life. I feel like, to be truly, fully successful, I need to not only do my inspiration justice through my developed tools, but my work needs to inspire people in turn, or at very least elicit in them powerful, visceral feelings/emotions. Easy, right? No pressure.
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what home is
a/n: this is my submission for @antoineroussel 's summer fic exchange 2k21! thank you for organizing this all demi. i recieved @timstuetzle and i am so excited to finally share this! im sorry it's so late but i had a lot of fun writing for Tim and i hope i did him justice! i made this a gender neutral reader again, so please enjoy my take on some friends to enemies to lovers :)
pairing: tim stützle x reader
word count: 18k+ (holey moley)
warnings: some angst, set in no covid-universe, a few swears, an odd timeline
disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and real person fiction if you don’t like that, please don’t read! the banner is made by me, with photos found from pinterest and the transparent made by @art-and-the-hockeys (thank you!!!)
The start of the season was your favourite. The chill of the rink, the sound of skate edges on the ice, the smell of skate sharpening- it was all so familiar. As an analyst, the start was the best. There were new lineups, new plays, and a chance to try new things. Considering this was your first year as a real analyst, not just checking over others' work, you were excited. You got to actually help to build a Stanley Cup winning team.
What you didn’t love was how everyone seemed to lose their heads and decide to run around the arena. You’d been looking for the coach of the Ottawa Senators for the past twenty minutes. You’d think the man would be in his office the first day back, but no. He decides to take a stroll to who-knows-where and leaves you to follow invisible breadcrumbs.
Eventually, you found yourself on one of the lower levels. You continued down the hallway, entering an open space with concrete floors. The bustle of the new season was in full swing as you swerved between various people working like gears in a machine. You tried to do your best to stay out of other people’s way but you still ended up walking into a hard surface.
“Oof!” Shit. Hard surfaces don’t usually talk. You looked up at what you ran into and saw two men staring at you. Both were wearing Senators hoodies but one was a taller blond and the other a slightly shorter brunet. The brunet has a backwards snapback on but that wasn't what made you stop in your tracks. It was his eyes. They were soft and welcoming, something like a home cooked meal, but they had a glint of adventure in them.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I wasn’t really looking where I was going. I am so sorry.” You apologized to the blond you ran into.
“Hey, all good. I’m-”
“Number 7.” You turned toward the brunet. “And...number 18, right?” When they both gave you a weird look, you shrugged. “I’m an analyst here so, uh, you’re just numbers to me.”
“Okay, ouch but you are the reason we’re going to be winning more games this season, so I'll give it to you. I’m Brady, and this is Jimmy.” The blond gestured to himself first, before gesturing beside him.
“It’s Tim, actually.”
You introduced yourself to the two players, before looking around the hallways. “Um, would either of you happen to know where the coach is? I can’t find him,” You held up the file folders in your hands. “I’ve got new numbers for him.”
“Oh yeah he’s probably close to the ice, we’ll show you.” Brady started down a hallway, both you and Tim falling in stride behind him. “So Numbers-”
“-Y/n-” You glared at Brady for the nickname, rolling your eyes as he continued on. From your peripheral vision, you saw the corners of Tim's mouth turn up.
“-If you don’t mind me saying….either you look really good for your age, or you aren’t old enough to be working here,” He continued, giving a glance your way.
You looked down at your shoes and gave a sigh. “I get that a lot, and I am young-er than my colleagues but I assure you, I am qualified to work for this organization.”
“Wasn’t doubting that, just seeing how much I get to tease ya. Jimmy’s the rookie,” He elbowed him and Tim tried to swerve around it, only to bump into a stack of pylons. Brady and you shared a grin at his expense. “So he gets all the teasing. Same for the numbers people. You’re the rookie.” He shrugged
“Well, I’m not actually a rookie anymore. This is my second year here,” You mentioned, looking towards the two guys. Brady looked impressed whereas Tim’s eyes went large and his jaw slack a little.
“How?” He asked, and you laughed. The three of you turned a corner, and you walked slightly faster to talk.
“I graduated high school pretty early. And then took my statistics undergrad at the University of Ottawa. I minored in sports studies and I met your GM at a conference for the department. When he found out I was in Ottawa alone, he kinda took me under his wing, checked in every now and again. When I graduated two years ago, he offered me an analyst position and I was lucky enough to land it. I love working here, even if I’m way younger than everyone else. Last year, I stayed in my office a lot, double checking people’s work but this year, they gave me more responsibility. I’m excited for the challenge.”
“You are going to be great.” Tim said, meeting your eyes, his gaze showing that his comment was genuine. You ducked away from his gaze but muttered a ‘thanks’. The three of you rounded another corner, Brady ducking out to talk to a reporter, but Tim said he’d help you find the coach.
You settled into a comfortable silence as you walked beside each other through the chilled hallways. He abruptly took a left turn, cutting you off and causing you to bump into him. You immediately apologized, this being the second time today you’d run into a hockey player.
“‘S my fault, I’m still getting used to the new arena,” He said, a sheepish smile appearing on his face. He nodded his head down the hallway, as a silent ‘after you’ and you started walking. As you got further down, you realized Tim walked you out to the bench. The light became brighter, the air a little crisper, and the floor turned from a concrete grey to a bright red. Your eyes wandered up, admiring the view from down here. You’d be truthful earlier, you’d only ever visited your office. But from down here, you could see everything- the thousands of seats, the banners hanging from the ceiling, the crystal white ice. You stood close to the wall, as if to try to intimidate a fly on a wall, seeing everything as if you weren’t there. You could feel Tim could up from behind you, letting you take it all in for the first time.
“That’s Coach,” He leaned closer to you as he pointed across the ice towards someone in a tracksuit. You nodded and although Tim dropped his hand, he stayed close to you. The coach eventually noticed the two of you and started to skate over to the bench. Tim cleared his throat and you looked at him.
“I got to- I have to go now, but, um, I’ll see you around?” You nodded to his question, a soft smile on your lips. He rocked back and forth on his heels, as if he knew he had to leave but he kept getting pulled towards you. “Good luck with the season.”
“Good luck with yours too.” At that he turned away from you, and you turned to the coach, pulling out your file folder to talk with him.
***
A week or two later and the start of the season was upon the Canadian Tire Centre. The home opener was in a few days and your week had been hectic, trying to get notes from practices and implement what you saw into your analysis. After a morning full of spreadsheets, you decided to take your lunch break in your sanctuary. Last year, the arena felt too big to stick around in on your lunch break. So you had headed outside, where you discovered a small hiking trail about a ten minute drive from work. It quickly became a place where you went whenever you needed to clear your head. And after the morning you had, it was the perfect place to go, so you hopped in your car and started towards it.
At the top of the hill, you put the car in park, grabbed your lunch bag and started towards your spot. It was past the picnic tables that had a nice view of the suburbs, but it wasn't secluded. Your spot was off the beaten path, but there was a small ledge with a perfect view of the arena, highway, and surrounding green spaces. You turn the corner, ducking under a tree branch, ready to exhale the heck of the morning you had.
But there was already someone sitting in your spot. Their head was down, but you recognized the logo and number 18 on their hoodie. Cautiously, you approached him.
“18...Is it okay if I sit here?” You asked, and his head shot up. He shot you a small smile and quick nod. You sat down, placing your bag in front of you, taking out a granola bar.
“You can call me Tim, you know. That is my name,” You gave him a shy smile and you could feel your cheeks heat up at his comment.
“I didn’t think anyone knew about this place, Tim,” You mentioned quietly. It felt weird, to be honest, to be sharing your spot with someone, but it didn’t feel like he was intruding.
“My city in Germany has a lot of parks. There’s a forest near my house where I’d go when I needed a break. This is the closest I could find near the rink. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Just don’t go telling the whole team about our place,” you winked at him and took a bite of your snack.
“I can keep a secret, don’t worry.” He laughed lightly and sent you a smile.
“I don’t know if you remember me but-”
“You’re the analyst, you graduated super early right? Y/n, yeah?”
“Yeah, that’s me,” You smiled at him. “So, how are you liking Ottawa?”
“It’s alright, I haven’t seen very much of it. The ice is very good. My house is nice.” He shrugged and you gaped at him.
“That’s all you’ve seen? So you haven’t been to Parliament Hill or ByWard market or…?” you trailed off when you saw him biting his bottom lip and slowly shaking his head. “Well, you are missing out, you should go see the city sometime.”
“Do you think you could show me around? You seem to know all the best places,” He offered. You met his eyes and nodded. He dug his phone out of his pocket, passing it over to you. You raised your eyebrows at the gesture but he just pushed his phone closer to you. Silently, you imputed your number, placing a small graph emoji beside your contact name. You handed it back to him and a small smirk graced his face when he saw the emoji, before he pursed his lips at the device. You furrowed your eyebrows.
“Sorry, it’s all good. Thank you. It’s- I have to go back now, but I’ll text you, yeah?” You nodded as he handed back your phone. He walked towards the parking lot, but turned around to wave at you before he disappeared around the bend.
Later that day as you sat in the stands, a clipboard and pen in your hands, you got a text from an unknown number.
Hi
It's 18 :)
You chuckled at his use of his number and texted him back.
i thought you said i could call you tim? :(
also it’s practice?? how are you on your phone?
It starts in a couple minutes
your teammates are already on the ice
Spying on me already??
it’s literally my job to watch you practice
Guess I'll see you in the stands then :)
Oh and I'm free this weekend for that showing of the city, team bonding’s on friday
i’ll check my schedule and get back to you
now get out on the ice or you’re going to be late :)
***
You had checked your schedule, and agreed to meet that Saturday. You said you’d pick him up since you knew more of the city. You didn't want to be late so you arrived five minutes early in front of Tim's place. He walked out in his signature backwards snapback, some curls poking out the front, and a monochromatic beige outfit. Waving animatedly at you, he jogged to the car, his ever present smile on his face.
The twenty minutes ride into the city was quiet yet comfortable. A few words were exchanged about how each other’s day was so far but nothing groundbreaking. The low hum of the engine filled the silence as you drove into the city.
After parking in a Superstore (‘Free parking in downtown Ottawa is hard to come by, Tim. We’re parking in the grocery store parking lot’) and walking a few blocks, you come to the far end of the market. Lined with local businesses and brick streets, it felt homey. Tim smiled as it reminded him of back home.
“So, what are we going to see first? Your school?” He asked as the two of you walked along the streets. You laughed and shook your head.
“Pfft no. It isn’t all that interesting. I figured we’d see some of my favourite places, if that’s okay?” He assured you it was and the two of you continued through the streets, Tim with his head down as you passed people. He wasn't famous just yet, but in Canada you find hockey fans at every corner. Soon, you arrived in a small plaza with coloured picnic tables and muskoka chairs.
“Ta-da!” You gestured to the large block letters that spelled ‘Ottawa’ in the middle of the space. “It’s not much, but you’ve got to be a tourist in your own city at least once right?” He laughed along with you and you got out your phone, ready to take a picture of him so he could send it to his parents. You thought he would want a picture of him but he was quick to insist you had to be in the picture as well.
“I’m sorry, but would you mind taking a picture of us?” You asked one of the girls who were taking turns with the Ottawa sign.
“Oh sure!” You stood beside him, between the two ‘T’s in Ottawa, his arm slung over your shoulders. You smiled and looked up at Tim to see him smiling as well- and not one of those classic boy coy half smiles, a genuine one. She took a few landscape and a few portrait ones before handing your phone back. “You two are such a cute couple!”
Before you could correct the girl, Tim answered for you. “We’re just friends actually.” She apologized profusely before rejoining her group. You shuffled your feet as an awkward silence overcame you for the first time since you’d met. Your body shivered and you promptly changed the subject.
“Hey, you hungry?” He shrugged and nodded. You nodded and led him away from the sign, through a few back alleys lined with a few merchants, home artists and such. You entered a building, bustling with people. It was long and narrow, with brick flooring and merchants on either side of the middle. There were lots of people, ranging from people doing their weekly grocery shopping to tourists looking for souvenirs. You weaved between strollers and friend groups, Tim grabbing your hand to avoid getting lost. He kept his head low, hoping it would disguise him enough. This day was about you and him, not you, him and the hockey world. Eventually, the two of you exited the indoor market and came to a small opening. Instead of staying in the opening, you turned left, tugging Tim across the street to two small shacks, one red and one blue. The red one had a classic fairytale vibe to it, with beige wainscotting, red painted window frames, and topped with a white and light brown canopy over the window. Underneath the canopy, there was a string of small Canadian flags.
“Do you trust me?” He arched one of his eyebrows but nodded. “I’ll be right back.” Confused, Tim stood there as you walked up the window, spending no time looking at the menu as you ordered. He looked above the shack to see in fancy lettering the word BeaverTails. When you came back, you were holding two paper containers and had a smile on your face. He looked at the sign and then back to the bags in your hands.
“A beaver’s… tail?” You laughed at him and handed him his BeaverTail.
“It’s not actually a beaver’s tail. It’s just a fried pastry that looks like one. They come in lots of flavours but I got you the best one, cinnamon sugar.” You could tell he was hesitant but bit into his and you took a bite of your own.
Almost instantly, he groaned. “Do you take every guy here? Wow. Oh my god,” He got cinnamon smeared over his chin and you laughed as he tried to wipe it off while holding his pastry.
“Hilarious Tim, but I’ll have you know you’re like my only friend here. So… no I don’t take anyone here.” He scoffed and you raised your eyebrows.
“You’re joking. How do you not have other friends? You’re great,”
“I started university as a 16 year math major. It’s not a surprise people didn’t want to talk to me. But it’s okay. I’m used to it by now.”
“Don’t you have people from home come and visit?”
You scoffed. “I don’t really get along with my mum. We moved around a lot when I was younger and I always sorta resented her for not seeing how it affected me. And then, when I got accepted to school out here, she sold the house and started travelling. Last I talked to her, she was in Tahiti.” He raised his eyebrows.
“What about your dad? Or brothers or sisters?” You swallowed your piece of BeaverTail before answering him.
“I have an older sister, Dani. But she’s eight years older than me, so we're not the closest. She checks in every week or so because she knows my mum doesn't. She’s never come out to visit though, she runs her own business back in Seattle.”
“It must be nice to have someone though. Especially when you were growing up. What about your dad?”
“I don’t- I don’t talk about my dad.” You picked at the pastry before changing the topic. “C’mon, you have to see this place.” You gestured to a side street and the two of you made your way towards your favourite destination. You exited beside a taller building and you pressed the button to allow the two of you to cross the street. As you were waiting for the light to turn, you turned to Tim.
“So, I’m guessing you don’t have any siblings then?”
“No, but the guys at the rink were like my brothers so it wasn’t bad.” The light turned red, and the ‘walk’ light turned on. You made your way across, staying close to each other as people walked both ways.
“Hockey tends to do that,”
“Is that why you picked to work in hockey?”
You glared at him as you made it across the street. “That’s personal.”
“We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends share personal stuff.”
“That’s… it’s just different.” You shook your head and lowered the volume of your voice. “Besides, we’re here.” The two of you had stopped in front of some shallow steps that led to a tall archway, with black statues underneath and on top of the arch. It had some engravings on it, both small and large letters. From where they were standing, Tim could make out some numbers, but not well enough to understand the significance. Behind the monument and slightly to the right was the green tipped roof and gothic architecture of the Parliament building.
“What is this place?” He tilted his head as he looked at the arch in the middle of the square. To him, it wasn’t anything special, perhaps another statue of one of the colonizers of the country.
“It’s Canada’s war memorial.” You whispered, and he nodded, clasping his hands in front of his body and lowering his head. “When I was going to school, I’d come here at least once a week.”
His head stayed where it was but he raised his eyes to meet yours. “Why?”
“I know it’s not exactly everyone’s favourite place...because I know so many people died for the country, but for me, it’s a place of silence. Of reflection. It reminds me to be grateful for everything I have. Some days school would be really bad, so this place was perfect to sit and remember that life isn’t bad at all. Not when I was in a safe country, not when I had an education, not when I had a warm house to go back to.”
He nodded. “That seems...perfect. Some days are too loud, there’s too many people saying stuff. I get that.” His voice was quiet as well, as he lifted his head to focus on the stonework and engravings. The two of you stood in silence in front of the memorial for a few minutes more before you tugged on his arm.
“See that building?” You leaned in close to him, your finger extending to point at a building in the distance, a little taller than the ones around it. “That’s the university’s mathematics and physics department. I had most of my classes in that building.” He nodded, leaning in closer to you, your heads almost touching. You lowered your hand and nodded with your head towards the way you came.
“C’mon, we’re not done yet. You’ve got to see the Parliament building.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed left towards it. You quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him right. “I’m the tour guide, remember? Trust me, there’s a better view.” You dropped his hand as he started to walk in time with you but you had to shove it in your pocket to replace the heat his hands gave you.
A quick ten minutes walk later and you stood atop a hill overlooking the river. It was a large park with benches and an eccentric art installation in the corner. You walked close to the peak of the hill and stopped, breathing in the fresh air.
“There is Canada’s capital building. It’s nicer to see it from here than from the front where there’s a bunch of tourists. Besides, from here, you get to see more of the architecture.” The building was across the river, its massiveness more pronounced from your viewpoint. There was a dome nearest the river that was covered in flying buttresses, each support beam having intricate details that stood out. The clock tower and green tinted roof completed the gothic look.
“This view is better. Quieter. It reminds me more of home,” You bump your shoulder against his lightly.
“Glad you like it.” The two of you stood in silence until Tim shivered, at which case you decided you should start heading back. If the hockey player was cold, it was cold enough for you too.
The walk and drive back was uneventful, aside from the two of you passing jokes back and forth. When it came to drop him off, he unbuckled his seatbelt but didn’t make an effort to leave the vehicle.
“How much for our snack? I’ll pay you back,”
You waved him off. “It was my treat, don’t worry about it.” He pursed his lips, then shook it. He pulled out his phone from his pocket. A few seconds later, your phone dinged. You glared at him as you opened the text to see an e-transfer. Before you could protest, he cut you off.
“You never said I couldn’t pay for your gas," He laughed, and despite your annoyance at the loophole, you found yourself laughing along with him. He had that effect on you; he seemed to be able to ease any tension you held. “I had a good time today. Maybe we could meet again sometime?”
“I’d like that. I’ll see you at the rink?” He nodded before getting out of your car, waving like he did that morning as you drove off to your place. When you arrived home, you saw a new text from him.
Can you send those pictures you took today?
You tried to suppress a smile, sending them over to which he responded with a ‘Thank youuuu’. You set your phone on your nightstand and turned off the light. Despite your efforts, you fell asleep with a smile on your face from a perfect day with a great person.
***
“Hey, Numbers!” You stopped in your tracks and turned around to see Brady sticking his head out of the dressing room. He had taken a liking to calling you that, especially as you had started hanging around the house more. It was nice, movie nights and sometimes you’d take a pre-game nap with Tim, you had even stayed for lunch at Tim’s request. At this point, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Brady to shout the nickname from anywhere. Practice had ended and you had given your notes to the coach about what to focus on for the Toronto game. “You didn’t happen to see Jimmy, did you?” When you shook your head, his face scrunched into a small frown.
“Where’d he go? Didn’t media like just end?”
He shrugged. “He didn’t even bother to change from media, he just stalked out. He didn’t say anything to any of the guys, so I thought you might’ve seen him.”
“I’ll keep a lookout for him,” You told Brady before he returned to finish dressing and you returned to your office. But even after you’d settled back into your work, there was a feeling in your stomach you couldn’t quite place. Sending a quick text off to Tim, asking where he was, you dove back into work. But it only took five minutes before you were checking your phone, seeing if he’d read the text or responded. When neither happened, you gave him a call. It sent you straight to voicemail and you hung up before you could leave a message. The feeling in your stomach grew and you packed up your bag, knowing no more work would get done tonight. It wasn’t like Tim to sulk or get in his head; he was a generally happy guy. Something must have set him off for him to be acting this way -- even with you. And if it was something this big, there was only one spot he would’ve gone.
“Brady said you stalked out of media. Figured I’d find you here.” He turned around at the sound of your voice, his shoulders dropping a little. He shrugged, which you took as your cue to take a seat beside him at your lookout space. The sun was setting, the golden hour light reflecting on his stress lines, and the sky was littered with wispy clouds.
Your hands were in the pockets of your hoodie, your legs tucked together. Despite being here for close to six years, the Canadian chill always surprised you. You sat with your shoulder pressed to his, a silent symbol of you being there for him. With his head down, he mumbled something too quiet for you to hear, so you leaned your head down to hear him better. At your movement, he huffed and lifted his head.
“I’m supposed… They wanted me to come and make a difference and to help win games. But I’m not helping! I’m supposed to be putting up points and helping win games, but we’re still losing! Like, why do I suck?”
Your chest got tight at his words. “Tim…”
“You can’t deny it, the numbers say we’re losing.”
“Losing doesn’t mean you aren’t producing. This is your first year in the NHL, you wouldn’t be here if they didn’t think you were worth it. Hockey is a team sport, it isn’t just your job to win the game.”
“But they wouldn’t have gotten me right out of the World Juniors if they didn’t need me to start making an impact right away! They were counting on me. And I’m not living up to it….”
“You are nineteen years old. Nineteen. The five other rookies ahead of you in points are all at least two years older than you. Let that sink in. You have so many years ahead of you. And secondly, no one here is expecting you to turn this team around. McDavid’s first year he didn’t turn the team around. And sure, yeah, the next year, the Oilers had more success but guess what? They missed the playoffs the next three years. Hockey is a team sport, one person, not even McDavid, can completely turn a team around. No one is expecting you to turn this team around in one season. This isn’t on you.”
“But the numbers…”
“Are you going to trust the analyst on the numbers or the assholes on Twitter?” He glared at you but let you continue on. “If you really want to talk numbers, we aren’t last in the league anymore. We’ve beat the top team in the division a couple times now. You’re putting up points, you’re helping us win. Cut yourself some slack. You’re nineteen and living in a new country. This team isn’t expecting you to be Ottawa’s saviour, okay?”
“There’s pressure to be better though! Everywhere I go, I just see how I should be doing more, how if I don’t produce more, I’m going to be a draft bust. I’m the young guy, I’m supposed to be the new blood and be able to make a difference. I feel like I’m letting everyone down.” His words lingered in the sunset glow, a contrast to the darkness he was feeling. You fell silent at his outburst, the air feeling too quiet, even with his heavy breathing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
You ignored his apology, knowing he would never intentionally hurt you. “I graduated with a 3.8 GPA. I didn’t have enough job experience but my grades were one of the only reasons I was able to get hired so young. My first year, all I did was double check other people’s stats and predictions, and it was okay. No one expected much out of me because I was young and they didn’t really give me any responsibilities. But this year… they’re looking to me more. Teams with more than two analysts are more likely to produce teams that make the playoffs. I’m number three; I should be helping make a better team. But I’m not. I’m not getting the numbers we need or the stats we need. I know more updated methods and technologies but...it’s just not working. I’m not finding solutions to problems that this team has had for years. And the board and my colleagues see that. I know I shouldn’t worry about them firing me, but I still do. I mean, I’m not producing, why would they keep me around? This wasn’t what they wanted when they gave me the job.”
“They won’t fire you, you’re doing your best. And you’re young, you graduated early. They have to give you a chance to prove yourself in the workplace before they fire you.”
“You wanna take your own advice?” He flushed at your words, but you smiled. “Thanks, though.” He nodded and looked out over the suburbs surrounding the arena.
“The pressure in this league sucks.” He said and you leaned your head on his shoulder.
“Yeah. It does. But we’ll get through it right?”
“We’ll figure something out. Together.” He placed his hand on your thigh and the two of you looked out at the sunset, his touch lingering on your body until the sun disappeared behind the horizon. Silently, he helped you to your feet, and walked you to your car, making sure you got in okay, before he got into his car. On the drive home, your chest felt lighter from the conversation.
***
The final buzzer rang, signalling a 4-2 win for the Senators. You smiled at the scoreboard and gathered your papers. The game was nothing spectacular, but for you, it was a career defining game. Some of the lines you'd suggested were risky, but you had the numbers to back it up, and it worked. It worked. The conversation with Tim earlier last week helped with your confidence to take risks in terms of your analytic advice.
You went back to your office after the game, wanting to type up a report of how you impacted tonight's outcome. If it worked this time, who's to say it couldn't work again? But in a higher stakes game? You felt like you were finally contributing to the team, and damn, it felt good.
Your office was barely even that. It was small, but you had a desk, a window, and your name on the door. It was enough for your first major gig. You'd made it a little homey-er with a small succulent and some motivational quotes. You opened up your laptop and began to type up a document report. The words flowed from your fingers and you used the numbers you counted from the box to back up your findings. Time seemed to stand still as you typed, the document becoming longer and longer.
A knock broke your train of thought and you looked up to see Tim poking his head through your office door. He had a shy smile on your face and you shook the writing haze out of your eyes.
"Hey! Come on in," He nodded, closing the door behind him before leaning against the wall. "You played a good game." His cheeks flushed and he lifted his hat, running his fingers through his hair.
"Thanks, thank you. Anyway, did you eat yet?"
"I mean, I had an iced coffee before the game and a granola bar during the second period. So yeah?" Immediately he started shaking his head and he pushed himself away from the wall. You open your hands as if to say 'what’?" and he outstretched his hand to you.
"Coffee and a granola bar isn't a meal. Let's go get some real food, I'm hungry." He made a grabby hand with his outstretched hand and you sighed.
"I have to finish my report, I can't." He sighed, pushed your laptop shut, and grabbed your hand.
"That can wait. Besides, the boys went out and I need a ride home." He flashed you a shy smile and you rolled your eyes, before picking up your bag and leaving your office with him. You tried not to notice how Tim was still holding onto your hand, but as he tugged you along to a quiet area of the concourse, it was difficult to do. He stopped at a small table with two bar stools. He let go of your hand, cold enveloping you, and you hung your bag on the back of the chair. As you hopped onto the chair, he stayed standing, tapping his fingers on the tabletop.
“What do you want to eat?" When you shook your head again, he pulled out his puppy dog eyes. "Tim, seriously, I'm fine."
"I'm getting some fries and you will eat some of them. Deal?" Your face pulled into a frown and he repeated himself. "Deal?"
"Yes, Mom, deal."
He gave himself a self assured smile. "Great. I'll be right back."
A few minutes later he came back with a container of fries and two small containers. He set them down in front of you before he got seated. A closer look at the container showed one was ketchup and the other was…
"Is this mayo?" He picked up a fry, dipped it in the white substance, and popped it into his mouth. With his mouth full, he nodded. "You eat your fries with mayonnaise?"
"You don't?"
"No!" You shook your head. He took another fry, dipped it again, and ate it.
"You have to try it, it's good!"
“No, no thank you. You can keep your weird German eating habits to yourself." You laughed, dipping a fry in ketchup before eating it.
"Nope, you've got to try one. Please?" You scrunched up your nose, and he held out a white coated french fry. You gave in, taking it from his hands and shoving it in your mouth. You chewed it slowly, contemplating the taste.
"It's...not horrible." He raised his eyebrows at you. "Fine, it's alright." He gave you another look, a small smile forming on his face despite his efforts to hide it. "Okay, okay, I like it. Happy?" He let out a loud laugh.
"Yes! I knew you'd like it!" You laughed a little with him, before dipping another fry in the mayo and popped it in your mouth. The two of you ate in silence, the sounds of the zamboni in the background.
"Why didn't you go out with the guys? You had a good game,"
He shrugged. "I wanted something quieter. Besides, I was hungry and the guys wanted to go out to a bar. Bar food isn't exactly a meal."
"Neither is french fries,"
"Well, maybe, you're just better company than the guys."
"Damn right, I am." You smiled, tapped his fry with yours in a makeshift sort of 'cheers' way. When the two of you had finished your snack, you picked up the container and threw it in the compost bin near the table. You grabbed your bag off the chair, holding up your car keys. He got up off the table, joining you in a slow walk towards the parking lot.
You wished the custodians a good night as the two of you left the arena, the street lights in the parking lot illuminating the way to your car. Silently, you unlocked the car and you both got in. You gave him your phone, telling him to pick any playlist he wanted while you started the car. He picked one of your favourite playlists, a mix of relaxing beats and soft music, which was perfect for late night drives.
"You should have some lo-fi on here, it's a lot like this. I think you'd like it," he said, after you had merged onto the highway.
"Yeah?" He only nodded, allowing a comfortable silence to come back to the car. The rest of the drive was easy, the road being mostly empty and the music filling the car. He gave you quiet directions to the house, more points and here's than actual directions but you were able to find it.
"Thank you for the ride," He said, once you’d put the car in park.
"Thanks for sharing your food with me,” He shook his head and smiled at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“I’ll always share with you.” You caught his gaze, his brown eyes filled with sincerity. You could feel your cheeks flush and you waved him out of your car.
“I gotta get home too, you know.” You joked and he got out, popping his head back into the doorway for a second.
“Text me when you get home, yeah?” You murmured an ‘of course’ and he nodded, closing the car door and making his way to his front door. You waited until he entered the house before you drove away, turning on a lo-fi playlist from Spotify.
***
“Your turn to pick the movie, but no subtitles please, I’m too lazy to read today.” You handed Tim the remote for his TV while you pulled the blanket closer to your chin. The October chill had settled in his apartment and you hadn’t dressed for his room to feel like the arena.
“Jimmy!” Someone called from the kitchen and a loud clang dissolved any annoyance Tim had from his roommate interrupting his time with you. He rushed to the kitchen and you followed behind shyly. There were platters across the kitchen island, each with a different coloured dish. It looked like there was a salad, a couple casserole dishes, and some plates of desserts. A taller brunette was standing in the kitchen, frantically gesturing between Tim and a pot on the stove. There was a lid on the ground, a splatter of pinkish red liquid surrounding it. You entered the kitchen, picked up the lid before placing it in the sink. The other guy was still explaining to Tim what exactly he wanted to do, even though his head was tilted like a confused puppy. You brushing him aside llightly, grabbing the spoon Tim was holding to stir the pinkish red liquid on the stove. You sent him a small smile back over your shoulder and all you could see in his eyes was relief.
“Thank you!” The oven beeped and you noticed an embroidered #9 on the roommate's Senator sweats. You moved to the side to allow him to get another baking dish from the oven. He placed it on the stovetop and took off his oven mitts. “Thank you for doing that. I didn’t think he’d be that helpless in the kitchen.”
“I’m surprised anyone in this house can actually cook,” You laughed. The liquid that smelled of oranges and cranberries started to boil, so you reduced the heat and continued to stir it. You look at the baking dish that he brought out of the oven. “Are those brussel sprouts?”
“Yeah! My mom’s recipe; they’re delicious! Do you like them?”
“They’re one of my favourites! My recipe uses bacon though.”
“Oh nice! You’ll have to share it with me, I’d love to try it. And, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Josh,”
“I know.” He shot you a look and you backtracked. “I-Sorry, it’s just-I actually work with you? I’m in the analytics department, so I know your jersey number and I saw it on your sweats and put two and two together. I’m not being a creep, I’m sorry.” The sound of laughter behind you made you blush.
“Not being a creep my ass. They did the same thing when me and Jimmy ran into them for the first time!” Brady commented, walking into the kitchen. He was wearing a nice pair of dress pants and a button up shirt. You shook your head before nodding towards his attire.
“Going somewhere nice?” He looked down at his outfit and shook his head.
“It’s Thanksgiving? It’s why they gave us the day off?” That...that would explain the amount of food in the kitchen. No matter how many years you lived here, you’d always forgotten that Canadian Thanksgiving was a whole month earlier. You placed the stir spoon on a plate next to the pot and wiped your hands on your pants.
“Oh! Um, right, well, uh in that case, I should be, I should get going. You guys must have plans. Nice to meet you Josh.” You made your way out of the kitchen to the foyer where your coat and shoes were without so much as a goodbye to the guys. You could hear Tim coming after you, his steps lighter and more graceful than Brady or Josh’s. But, he didn’t make a move to do anything except stare at you as you got ready to leave. It wasn’t until you were getting ready to put on your shoes that he spoke.
“You should just stay. We’ve got lots of food.”
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude…”
“Brady’s bringing his girlfriend and a couple other of the guys are coming over. You wouldn’t be intruding.”
“I really shouldn’t…”
“You should. Why won’t you stay?”
“I don’t know if you have this holiday in Germany, but Thanksgiving is a family thing, Tim.” You sighed. “Besides, shouldn’t I have brought something? Am I even dressed okay?” You looked down at your outfit - a simple pair of jeans and one of your comfiest graphic tees. He shrugged.
“Don’t worry about that. You look great, just enjoy the night with me. Stay? Please? C’mon schatz, you’re like my family to me.” The two of you maintained eye contact until you broke it and took off your coat. You could see Tim’s smile widen and when it came to walking back into the kitchen, he extended his arm. You took it and the two of you made your way back towards what would end up being a wonderful evening full of laughs and smiles shared between friends.
***
You had come over for a trashy reality TV binge after a particularly hard day at work. None of the numbers were adding up the way you needed them to and your laptop was having a hissy-fit all day. Soon enough, you called it a day and texted Tim, telling him you’d be over in twenty minutes. He greeted you at the door with your favourite chocolate treat, a box of Timbits, and “there’s popcorn in the microwave right now, it’s almost done”. You could’ve melted right on the spot. Instead, you made your way over to the couch where you collapsed and pulled the blanket he had already set out for you up to your chin. You breathed in the smells of pine and sock tape and felt your body relax. HGTV played in the background while you waited for him to bring the popcorn out when his phone dinged.
“Tim, your phone!” You yelled to him from across the living room.
“Who is it?” You sighed and moved from your comfortable spot on the couch to check his messages. You turned on the phone to see a message from Josh, saying he’s five minutes away. You went to lock the phone, seeing the unimportance of the message but something caught your eye. You swiped to clear the notification and his background came into focus. It was the two of you standing in front of the Ottawa sign at ByWard market, his arm around your shoulders and a grin on both your faces.
“Who was it?” He entered the room as he repeated his question.
“Just Josh,” you whispered, turning around to face him holding up his phone. “Am I your lock screen?” He blushes, opening his mouth stammering for words. “I am! I knew I was important to you.” You poked him a couple times for an extra tease when his face settled into a small pout and he retaliated by tickling you. You shrieked and hopped up from the couch, laughing as he chased you around the house.
“Stop doing that!” He laughed as you escaped his clutches once more. Your laugh echoed through the house as he tried again to try to tickle you, but you grabbed Josh and used him as a human shield.
“No fair schatz,” He relented his tickling and sat on the couch. You took a seat beside him, but kept your distance in case he decided to start his torture again.
“You know, you’ve never told me what that means,” You look over to him and he’s already scratching the back of his neck.
“What what means?”
“That thing you keep calling me. Like shats?”
Josh laughed and spoke up. “It means swe-”
“Friend! It means friend!” Tim interrupted loudly, his cheeks rosy. “It means friend.” You raised your eyebrows at his outburst and his explanation.
“You call your friends, ‘friend’?”
He scratched at his jaw and slowly nodded. “In my city, it’s common for friends to just call each other ‘friend’. It’s normal,” You managed out a ‘okay’ between breathy laughs, wondering why he was being so strange about it. It was just a nickname. But the blush in his cheeks didn’t diminish until well after Josh left the room, muttering under his breath about ‘idiots’, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe it meant more than Tim was letting on.
***
“Are you going to be at the gala on Saturday?” Tim asked you as the two of you ate (lunch for you, pre-practice snack for him) on the concourse. It was your first concourse snack since the All-Star break and you had missed him. WhatsApp messages and Instagram messages just weren’t the same as being in his presence. You finished your bite, and shook your head.
“It’s only for players isn’t it?”
“Would you want to come with me?”
“Like...as a date?” You looked up at him, your eyes wide. Maybe this was the clue you were waiting for.
“As friends?” Your eyes darted down onto the counter and Tim took that as a sign you didn’t want to go with him. “There’ll be puppies there.”
“Well,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “If there’s going to be puppies, I need no more convincing.” You forced a smile onto your face and he returned the sentiment, before finishing up the food. You wished him good luck before the game, and left to go the the box.
Soon enough, it was Saturday night and you found yourself in front of the Fairmont Château. You gazed up at the stone walls and admired how the orange glow from the lights gave it such a warm feeling, compared to the shivers that were going up and down your back. You had found time to go and get a fancy outfit for the night, its gold fabric being a perfect fit on your body. Tim had told you he’d meet you inside, so walked upt the steps alone, avoiding the other guests in fancy attire. They looked like they belonged here. You couldn't relate. The front entrance of the hotel was exactly as you expected -- it had marble floors, crown moldings, and a domed ceiling. You followed the chatter to one of the conference rooms, someone offering to check your coat. With just your clutch, you entered the ballroom with the sound of your shoes following you.
You looked around to try to find Tim among the executives, easily spotting him when you heard Brady’s booming laugh in the corner. You made your way over to the group, including Brady, Josh, Drake, Tim and some respective dates. Josh waved at you and Tim turned around to see you walking towards him.
Tim stood there, memorized by the way the Senators gold fabric hugged your figure and the way your eyes had lit up when you saw one of the puppies. You came over to him, brushing his arm before joining the group. Hellos were thrown your way and it wasn’t long before everyone went back to their conversations and you were able to speak with Tim.
“You look handsome." You handed him your clutch, which he held unashamedly, as you adjusted his gold bowtie, letting your hands linger on the front of his chest. You gulped before snapping out of your trance and took your clutch back from him.
“Um, uh, thanks. You look...good too,” His voice was breathy and his cheeks had flushed a little. You smiled at him, before noticing another golden retriever stumbling around next to its trainer and darting off to pet it. Tim watched you go and he stood back, blown away by the way his heart was beating faster and how he couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs.
“You finally figured it out, huh?” He turned around at Drake’s voice. He had recognized the look on Tim’s face, it was the same one he had when he looked at his partner. Tim furrowed his eyebrows.
“Figured what out?”
Drake scoffed and took a gulp of his drink. “God, you already know and you’re denying it. You’re in love with them.” Tim shook his head, waving off the thought. You were his best friend, nothing more. “C’mon man, you can keep lying to yourself but it’s obvious to everyone else.” He was then swept away by a reporter, leaving Tim to his thoughts.
He wasn’t in love with you. He was sure of it. You were his best friend, his safe spot. It’s not like when he sees you his heart beats faster or he notices how your eyes crinkle when you laugh or when the sun hits your skin just right, you look like an angel. It’s not like the more he looks at your lips the more he wants to know if they taste like your sweet honey lip chap. It’s not like your smile could cure his darkest days or that he could see himself introducing you to his family as his partner.
Except it was like that.
Tim saw all of that with you. He saw more galas, more late night drives, lazy Sunday mornings. He wanted to see you after his games, not in your office, but in the tunnel where you’d be wearing his jersey and a special jean jacket. He wanted to take you home to meet his family, his hometown friends. He wanted to show you all the places that were special to him, just as you showed his places special to you. He wanted to meet Dani and see if she thought he was good enough to be your partner. As he stared at you petting the small golden pup, he realized Drake was right. He was in love with you.
He was in love with his best friend.
Fuck, what was he supposed to do now?
You didn’t give him too much time to think about that as you came up behind him, telling him everything about the golden retriever you just met. He smiled at you, and motioned with his head to find your seats as dinner was going to be served soon. You sat next to him, your leg brushing against his under the table. Even from that, he got shocks-- tiny lightning bolts trailing up his body. It was like every sense was heightened after he came to the realization that he loved you. How am I supposed to even act around them? He thought.
The meal passed without issue and while Tim went about schmoozing all the executives and donors, you stick with the other halves. You had already met Emma, Brady’s partner, and she introduced you to Dakota, Briar, and Marissa (she had also told you who they came with but that information had not stuck with you).
“Sooo… Emma, how’s the wedding planning going?” Briar asked. She had gotten engaged over the holiday break. She laughed and waved off the question.
“Oh, not at all! We’re just enjoying being engaged, it’s like the honeymoon phase all over again,”
“Just like you and Tim,” Dakota nudged you and wiggled her eyebrows. You coughed on your drink at her statement.
“What?” You managed to sputter. Emma looked uncomfortable but didn’t say anything. “What do you mean, like me and Tim?”
“Oh come on, it’s so obvious the two of you are in your honeymoon phase! Don’t be ashamed of it, you’re such a cute couple!”
“Ooh yes!! How his bowtie matched your outfit is like goals, I wish my boyfriend did that with me,” Marissa mentioned. Your voice felt caught in your throat and you were instantly aware of the breeze in the room and the sweat on the back of your neck.
“We’re just friends,” Your voice was small.
“I’ll believe that when pigs fly, babe. Oh, look, here comes your man.” Dakota winked at you before turning into her own date. You turn around quickly to see him walking over to you, laughing with Brady and Josh. Normally, the sight of him would calm you down. He was such a genuine person and you appreciated how you never had to shrink yourself to fit in with him. But with the girls’ comments, you suddenly couldn’t be around him. When his hand met the small of your back, you flinched before relaxing into his touch. It was just Tim, your Tim. It’s not a big deal unless you make it a big deal.
“Timmy, I was just telling Y/n what a cute couple you two are!”
“Well, what do they say? Oh right, they complete me,” He sent you a wink and pulled you closer to his side. You went stiff in his hold, and he noticed, instantly letting you out of his grip. You muttered out an excuse about work and said quick goodbyes to the group before you were out of the gala as fast as your shoes could allow. Your cheeks were hot with...embarrassment? No, that wasn’t quite it. But they were hot, and the room felt small with Dakota’s teasing so just needed to escape. You needed to have fresh air in your lungs, needed to feel the cool Ottawa air on your arms. Needed to be somewhere other than beside him and his light teasing that left your stomach in knots.
But you hadn't even reached the front door and grabbed your coat from the coat check when Tim caught up to you. He watched you try to put on your coat, as he rocked back and forth on his heels like that first day you met.
“Do you… do you actually have work in the morning or were you just saying that?” You looked up and met his eyes, the orbs holding a certain vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.
“I got called at the last minute. I forgot to tell you, Jody’s kid got sick so I’m covering the game on Sunday but I haven’t prepared my notes or anything and you know me, I’ve got to be prepared or I won’t make a coherent analysis and then I’m really in trouble-” Tim cut your rambling off with a murmur of your name and you slowed your frantic movements to look at him.
“We’re okay, right?”
You smiled at him before you walked out the glass door. “Yeah, we’re alright.”
***
Last night was confusing to say the least. You could still feel the heat in your cheeks from...embarrassment? No, it wasn’t that. It was more like you couldn’t stand around to see what he meant by his comment. You couldn’t stand around why everyone else say you as a couple when you knew you weren’t. But you were okay with not being a couple weren’t you?
It’s like not you liked him that way. Yeah, a simple smile from him could turn your day around and your concourse snacks were the highlight of your week. But that’s because he was your best friend. It’s not like you wanted to spend every morning waking up to him or spend your afternoons running your fingers through his hair. It’s not like you wanted to take him back to Seattle to meet Dani or how you wanted to wear his jersey to call him yours. It’s not like you daydreamed about him gently holding your hand as you walked through ByWard market or how soft his lips would be as he leaned in to kiss you or what his abs felt like without a shirt separating your fingers from his skin.
Except it was like that.
And then came the comment at the gala. Did that mean he liked you too? But he said you were just going as friends. Did he mean it platonically? What if you read things wrong? Fuck, why were feelings so complicated?
Dani, you needed to call Dani. She’d know what to make of all this. She picked up on the fourth ring. “Thanks for calling Books By The Ocean, may you please hold?”
“Dani, it’s me.” Hold music filled your ear and you rolled your eyes. A few minutes later, there was almost certainly a hole in your rug from your pacing and she finally picked up.
“Why’d you resort to calling the store? I would’ve answered my phone eventually,”
“Yeah, eventually. I just really need to talk to you now,”
“Okay, so what’s up?”
“There’s this guy…”
“Is it Tim? Please tell me it’s Tim.” When you didn’t answer, she rejoined before reeling it in and telling you to continue.
“Anyways...we’re pretty good friends, I've known him since like the start of the season, and I don’t know, like I think he likes me? And I mean, I like him, he’s really great but, like, I just-”
“Can you get to the point please?”
“I want to take the next step with him. I want to be more than friends with him. I want all those things but… I just seem frozen. Like when I think about telling him, my body feels like it won’t move. It feels like I’m underwater. But I want to do more with him. I want that. Why won’t my brain get that and let me… I don’t know, let me act on my feelings?”
“You’re protecting yourself. You’ve never got hurt before,” You scoffed at her statement.
“What do you mean, of course I have,”
“Okay, sure, when you scraped your knee or when Nancy Peters called you dumb in second grade but you haven’t got hurt before. You haven’t opened yourself up to someone and let someone into your heart and let them see you for who you are.”
“Well, yeah, okay, but that’s because they might not like what they see,”
She sighed. “You can’t go through life with your walls up, kiddo. It’s hard, but you have to trust yourself. You have to let yourself feel. You have to let people in. When we were little and moved around a lot, maybe it was a survival tactic. But you’ve been in Ottawa for close to five years now and have unpacked all your boxes? Have you had any friends over? You’ve put down roots there but you’re still holding onto a survival tactic when you need to be living, not just surviving.
“I let people in--”
“No. You don’t. Has Tim ever been in your apartment? Has he seen that even though you resent Mom, you still have family photos of the four of us in your living room? Does he know about Dad? You might have told him stuff but you’re still living behind walls.” She sighed.
“Look, I don’t mean to be hard on you, but I want to see you thrive kiddo. I want you to experience life, and yeah, hurt is a part of life. You aren’t doing life right if you come out unscathed. And sure, maybe he’s a great friend. But in some instances, that romantic partner can fill a more emotionally secure place. People usually place more trust in their partner than just a friend. You’ve got to open up to him more than you already have if you want more from him.”
“How do I do that?”
“You’ve got to figure that out on your own kiddo, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to talk to him. Honestly; no hiding behind your friendship.” You nodded to her advice, before realizing she couldn’t see you, and thanked her for her help. She hung up with the promise to chat again on Wednesday like you normally did. You threw your phone beside the sink and leaned your head against the cool counter.
Be honest with him
Okay, you could do that. Easy enough right? You just had to make a plan to tell him. You could do that.
***
You were walking through the halls close to the bench to deliver your latest stats to the coach. It was your job after the other analysts determined you “had the youngest feet” and could go scouring around to find the coach. You didn’t mind. Besides… if you just happened to bump into Tim while you were down here, well then that was a completely unplanned coincidence. Since the gala and your chat with Dani afterwards, you were feeling good about where you stood with Tim. And you’d made your plan. After the game, you’d meet up for after-game snacks like most home games and you had told yourself you’d talk to him then.
You had given the latest report to the coach on the bench, walking past the locker room towards the box when you heard Tim's voice.
“...I don’t know man, I just need a break from Y/n.” You stopped in your tracks. It wasn’t that you meant to be nosy, but at the mention of your name… you wanted to see what else he had to say. You hadn’t meant to smother him but you guess he saw it differently. Your shoulders dropped and you bit your lip.
“I only have a problem around them!” You could feel the breakfast in your stomach start to turn, the feeling of bile starting to rise up. A ringing started to fill your ears, the white static noise only being pieced by his once comforting voice.
“It’s just… We work together, you know? It’s awkward,” Where was this attitude when you were hanging out at the start of the season? Last week? If this is how he felt, why didn’t… what did he mean by his comment to Dakota?
His voice shook you out of your trance. “Like at the end of the day, I’m me… they pay me a lot to play my game and they’re...them.” At that, you rushed away from earshot. If that was how he really felt, then screw him. If he was the hockey star and you were just the analyst, then that’s what role you’d play. Nothing more, nothing less. And he wasn’t brave enough to say that to your face, you’d say it first.
This is why you didn’t open yourself up. If you were going to get hurt either way, it might as well be the least damaging option.
Over the next few games and practices, you kept your distance from the players. You avoided the bench, sending Jody to give reports to the coach. You kept your office door closed, the blinds closed, and you made sure to time your exits of the arena to avoid Tim. If avoiding him meant you avoided the inevitable conversation where he would tell you your flaws and point out every way you misread things, then you would do that.
After you heard that, you stopped going out of your way to pass by the boys in the arena. You went into your office, closed the door, and didn’t leave until you went home. When you had to sit in the stands for practices, you sat higher than you used to and ignored the waves and stared you got from the team. He sent the occasional text but you replied with an im busy too many times that he stopped trying. It was odd to you how he kept reaching out when he was the one who said he needed a break but you ignored that voice in your head.
It was a Friday when he finally confronted you. You had been so close to leaving the arena, just one more hallway, and you would’ve been out the door and into the parking lot. He had called your name and you tried to turn the corner without him but he caught up easily, grabbing your wrist to get you to stay.
“What’s up? It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever,” He let go of your wrist as you turned to face him.
“Well that’s what happens when you’re a bigshot NHL player and I’m a lowly analyst.” He squinted his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows at your statement.
“What?”
“Look, I don’t-- I don’t think we should be friends anymore,”
He slowly nodded, thinking your words over in his head. “Okay. Um...I think… yeah, that could be good. I don’t think we should be just friends either.” He shot you a shy smile with a spark of hope in his eyes but you frowned.
“Good. It’s settled then.” You turned on your heel and walked away from him, only wiping your teary eye once you had rounded the corner, refusing to let him see you cry. You missed the way he frowned as you retreated.
The weekend was spent in bed, repeat episodes of Loki playing in the background. Loki never hurt you the way Tim had, the way his words dug into your insecurities of being alone creating a wound like no other. You had turned your phone off earlier as it kept buzzing with messages from him. You didn’t want to hear his excuses of why and you didn’t want to explain that you’d overheard his conversation. But the season wasn’t over yet so you gave yourself two days to grieve. When Monday morning came, it was like nothing had ever happened.
Tim caught you in the main entrance way at the rink. It was close to 8am and you knew he didn’t have practice until 11, so it was obvious he was waiting for you. You walk right past him until he softly calls your name and you stop walking, but don’t turn around. “Why are you ignoring me?”
“You know why.” You whipped around and scoffed at him. “And you know what else? If you had a problem with me, you could’ve just said something. You didn’t have to keep hanging out with me.”
“What?”
“I think we should just keep this professional, 18. I’m nothing more than a background analyst to your hockey superstar, so let’s just stick to our jobs, yeah?”
“What are you talking about?”
“We work together, we shouldn’t be friends, you said it yourself. It’ll be better this way. Now, please, just leave me alone.” You brushed by him, bumping your shoulder with his, and you missed the way his jaw fell open at how quickly your relationship seemed to change.
He seemed to leave you alone after that. He didn’t check in and he didn’t send funny memes he found. He didn’t text you to tell you he landed safely on road trips and you didn’t congratulate him on a game well played. You could tell Brady and Josh thought it was weird but didn’t say anything, just gave you pitying looks when you passed by or caught their eye in the halls.
The Senators failed to clinch a playoff spot, thanks to an overtime loss to Winnipeg. The end of the season for you was nice. It meant a shift in your work to more prospects, and thankfully, a more flexible work schedule. You didn’t have to go into the arena and most of the players went back to their hometowns to visit. It was supposed to be a reprieve for you, knowing Tim wasn’t even in the country. It was supposed to be relaxing, going to all the places that had helped you in the past to regroup your thoughts.
But instead, it felt suffocating, strolling through the market. You’d been here thousands of times to clear your head, but this time the deeper you walked, the more the thoughts in your head swirled into a hurricane.
You’d never know what home felt like. You’d had friends tell you it’s having like extended family over around the holidays or it’s the peacefulness they felt at their lake house. You thought you had found it in Ottawa, its quaintness and history bringing you a sense of calm you hadn’t had before. But only with Tim did you feel that inner peace that home felt like. Only with Tim did you feel like you could take on the world. Only with Tim did you feel whole.
And that was scary.
Feeling like one person could complete you, like they had a piece of your heart you didn’t know you gave them, was scary. You were used to being on your own. You’d done it throughout your levels of schooling and throughout the beginnings of your career. And all it took for that strength to come crashing down was a bashfully confident German hockey player.
He couldn’t even tell you why. It would’ve hurt more to hear the exact reasons why you weren’t good enough for him, but it would have quelled your mind from picking on every single insecurity your mind could come up with.
Before you knew it, you were staring at the Ottawa sign. You glanced around to see couples waiting for their turn at the sign. Some of the guys had their arms around the shoulders’ of their girlfriends. Some of the girls had their hands clasped in their girlfriends’. Some people had their arms around the waist of their partner. But they all had a smile on their face, a fondness that was reserved for the love of their life.
Your eye caught the sight of a backwards Senators cap and your head whipped around. The person was tall and was wearing a grey hoodie. The man turned to the side and you caught a glance of the brown tufts of hair that stuck out of the cap. He threw his head back and the corners of your mouth turned up. Tim’s laugh was always infectious, even if you were upset with him.
But it wasn’t him.
He hadn’t reached out since the day in the hallway. As much as you knew you didn’t want to hear him say things more hurtful than what you overheard, you couldn’t help but wonder where you went wrong. The what-ifs tumbled around in your head, the possibilities of why suddenly your friendship was too much for him.
As you stood there in the market, the memories racing through your mind mixed with images of happy couples all around you, you knew you had to get out. You don’t really remember the rush of leaving, all you know is that the city that felt big for so many years now felt too small. You can’t go anywhere without being reminded of him, his smile, his laugh. How his eyes glimmer from the light of a movie. You drove yourself to the airport, knowing there wasn’t going to be a cab this early in the morning.
Before you knew it, you were standing outside of the familiar blue painted bookstore with your duffle bag in your hands. It was raining and overcast in Seattle, which wasn’t unusual, but even the fat teardrops felt melancholic. The sign in the window said closed, but you knew Dani would be in the back, organizing new stock. You knocked on the window, the sound rattling through the worn building. A few seconds later, her head of light pink hair came to the door, opening it. Before she could question your presence, you spoke.
“He didn’t want me,” you cried. “He didn’t even see all of me and he didn’t want me.” You dropped your bag as she pulled you into a hug. One hand cradled the back of your head as she pulled you out of the rain and into the store. You inhaled her scent, a mix of sea salt and the old bookstore, and squeezed her tightly. When she released you from the hug, she tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, her fingers grazing down your jaw. She gave you a soft smile, before walking to the back of the store, where her apartment was. Your shoes squeaked against the old hardwood floors as you followed her towards the kitchen, where you could smell a pot of tea brewing.
She was silent as she poured you a cup, kissed your head, before whispering everything was going to work out. She slipped out of the room, giving you your space.
You didn’t even have to ask. Dani let you stay with her for the summer, as long as you helped out around the store when you weren’t doing your own work. She didn’t push you for details about Tim, she just let you be. You tried your best to be cheery around the customers but that facade only lasted so long. When you were alone, you didn’t try to hide the emptiness you felt there.
***
Too soon did the days start to get shorter, the nights colder, the pitter-patter of raindrops became more constant which meant fall was coming. The season was starting up again, and you had to head back to Ottawa. This summer at home was a nice break but you knew that running away wasn’t going to solve all your problems. You were packing when a text from Josh came in.
So when are you getting in?
i land at 9pm on the 20th. Why?
Can’t I wonder when my friend gets into the city?
we’re friends?
Of course we are Numbers! I don’t share family recipes with just anyone :)
good to know thanks :)
You continued packing, thinking about what he said. You knew the two of you were friends, but he was Tim’s teammate. His roommate. To hear him say, regardless of where you and Tim stand, that you two were still good was a relief. As much as you’ve enjoyed your time away from the city, you missed work. You missed sitting in the arena, a brisk chill over your shoulder, the sounds of scraping ice and whistles. You missed the quaintness of Ottawa and, as much as he’d never let you forget it, you missed Josh’s cooking. Nights with Dani didn’t compare to nights with Brady (and sometimes Emma) and Josh.
Dani parked in the loading zone of the airport. She got out of the car to help with your bag, even though you had only brought one.
“Hey, listen, um. I know you don’t want to talk about what happened with Tim but… I think you need to talk to him.”
“Dani...”
“No, listen. I think you need some closure. You ran away from a city you haven’t left in five years, a city you so obviously love, because it hurt to think about him. Maybe closure means you talk to him. Maybe it doesn’t. But you’ve spent this whole summer looking lost, like you’re waiting for something to magically appear and make everything better. You look like you’ve lost a piece of yourself and you don’t know how to get it back. And that’s not you, kiddo. It’s never been you; you’ve always been so straightforward and sure of yourself. I want you to feel like yourself again, that’s all.”
“What if…” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “What if the piece of me that I lost isn’t something I can get back?”
“Then you fill it. It might not be perfect and maybe you need lots of tape, and maybe you accept that there will be small cracks in it, but those holes make your souls yours. It’s a part of life, and you can’t avoid it no matter how hard you try.” You pulled her in for a hug, some of the tears in your eyes dropping onto her shoulder.
“Thank you Dani. For everything.” She pulled back to wipe the tears from your face, a smile on her face.
“You know I’m always here for you, kiddo. Take care of yourself, okay?” You nodded, knowing if you spoke again, more tears would bubble over. You walked towards the departures gate, walking towards the reality you ran from.
Several hours later, you were happy to be back in Ottawa. You had missed it, as much as it pained you when you were here. Tim Hortons, bilingual signs, friendly smiles, and oh god you could have real poutine again. Yeah, it was nice to be back.
Dani’s words mulled over in your head throughout the flight, and continued to as you made your way through the airport. She was right, maybe you needed closure. Accept what happened and move on. You’d lost friends when you graduated early, you’d lost friends when you moved away. You’d lost friends before and this was no different.
Except you knew deep down it was different. It was Tim; it was always going to be different with him.
You shook your head, as if to physically rid yourself of the thought. If Tim didn’t want to be around you, then you weren’t going to waste your time waiting for him to show up. You’d suck it up everything you had to look at a stat, but other than that you’d focus on work, focus on proving yourself in the company. You started to walk towards where you’d parked your car (without wondering how much the parking was), ignoring the happy reunions of students and families. You had been perfectly fine being in Ottawa on your own until you realized how much better it could be when you had someone.
A hand grasped your wrist and instantly, you turned around and ripped your arm from the stranger. You looked up, first to see a bouquet of flowers made up of peach roses, white tulips, and hydrangeas. Behind the colours of the flowers, you see a familiar face, eyes full of sorrow and hope. Even when you were ignoring him, he was still so easy to read.
“Number 18.” You struggled to keep your voice even, but you lifted your head to appear as if he had no effect on him.
“Hi Y/n,” He met your eyes, which you quickly darted away. “These are for you.” He tried to hand the bouquet to you, but you shook your head.
“How did you know when I got in?” The coldness in your voice surprised Tim, but he didn’t show it, swallowing slowly before answering you.
“Josh told me." You folded your arms, your hands gripping your bag in case you needed to get away from this conversation.
“Josh mentioned it or you asked Josh?” When he didn’t answer, you knew it was the latter and scoffed at his sneaky actions. You quickly turned away from him and moved faster towards the exit. You heard him sigh from behind you and before you could make a sly comment about it beneath your breath, he was ahead of you, blocking your way. You tried to side-step him, but hockey reflexes prevailed. You glared his way and tried again, silently begging him to move.
“C’mon, you have to talk to me sometime, we work together,” He commented.
“That’s exactly it. We work together. You’re the high and mighty NHL superstar and I’m the nerdy analyst. We have our places. They don’t mix, so really I don’t have to work with you at all. So, please, if you could just move, I have nothing else to say to you.” You tried once more to step around him, but he lightly grabbed your forearm to stop you.
“But I have stuff to say to you.”
“You had months to say it, so I’ll say it again, please let me by.” Suddenly, he was on his knees in the airport, the flowers still outstretched in his hands.
“Y/n,”
“What are you doing?” You hiss to him, your face darting around to see people starting to stare at Tim’s grand gesture.
“I need you to talk to me, and you won’t, so I’ll beg until you agree to hear me out,” You could feel more people staring, the shutter of camera phones, the eyes of everyone in the Ottawa airport (or what felt like it) easily making up your mind. There was a reason you were an analyst, away from the spotlight, doing your work behind the scenes.
“Get up,” you started to pull on his arm, but he just stayed anchored to the ground.
“You’ll talk to me?”
“18, I will do anything as long as you stop making a scene,” At this point, your cheeks felt as if you’d stood under the beating sun for an hour. He got up from his knees, the flowers still outstretched in his hands, and you let go of his arm. You grabbed the flowers from his arms, dropping them in a garbage bin as you stalked out of the airport. Tim caught up to you and walked by your side.
You said nothing as you reached your car, unlocking the doors. You didn’t even wait for him to have his seatbelt on before you were backing out of the stall and driving away. Thoughts were running wild in your head; you were angry and embarrassed at the stunt he pulled at the airport, appalled at the audacity he had to show up after what he said, and last of all you were reluctantly happy to be back in his presence again. So you went to the one place you knew you could think.
You put the car in park overlooking the suburbs. You turned it off and rested your arms on the steering wheel. You couldn’t make the effort to get out and walk to the lookout spot, the car creating a safe bubble for your thoughts.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” His soft voice broke the tense silence in the car and you scoffed.
“We’re not friends anymore. You’re the Senators star player and I’m just the nerdy analyst. There’s no reason for me to need to talk to you.”
“See, you keep saying that but I-I don’t get it! What does that even mean?” You furrow your eyebrows as you turn to face him, his own face scrunched up and his eyes hard.
“What do you mean you don’t get it? You said that! The last game against Montréal? I was walking past the locker room and… I overheard you talking with the guys.” You looked down to your lap, findling with your hands. You briefly saw Tim’s hand start to move towards you, but you shook your head and it stayed in his lap. “You said you needed a break from me. You said that ‘at the end of the day they pay me a lot to play my game and they’re.. them’. You said you had a problem with me. What was I supposed to take from that except that you didn’t want me to be in your life?”
He stammered for words but you cut him off. “No, I don’t think you understand how much it hurt. Hurt to have the one person who I thought understood me to talk behind my back about how I wasn’t enough for them. It hurt to know that the one person who I always wanted to talk to, didn’t want to talk to me. Hurt to think that you’ve only ever seen me as just some nerdy analyst who has no place in your life. I had been fine before, without you in my life, but then you came in and knocked down every barrier I ever had. And then left as if you didn’t just break my life into pieces!
“I left Ottawa because it hurt too much to go to all my favourite places, because I went there with you. I let you into my safe spaces, and when you left, you shattered that security. You tainted all the good I had there. I thought that Ottawa was home before I met you,” you scoffed. “Not even close. You feel like home to me. And for you to say that I was a problem in your life?” You shook your head at him and looked down at your hands. “I tried to get over it, believe me I did. But every single place I went I was reminded of you… and how everything we had didn’t feel like a big deal to you.”
“I never meant for that to happen.” His voice was quiet and strained, as if he was trying to keep his emotions within him.
“You know the hardest part? I didn’t just have to get over losing my best friend. I had to get over someone I fell in love with! I lost the single most important relationship with one tiny little passing conversation. And you acted like nothing happened! Like we were still friends, like you still cared for me-”
“Ich liebe dich du trottel!” His outburst caught you off guard and you gulped. His heavy breathing was the only sound in the car as you whispered.
“You know I don’t speak German…”
“You don’t need to know German to know what I said,” His eyes were hard, a look you had only seen during games.
“Oh.” You shook your head and looked at him. “Wait what?”
“I didn’t say those things you think I did! You didn’t listen to the whole thing! Brady was teasing me about me saying I don’t have a problem talking to people I like and I don’t normally but you’re the exception! I needed a break from you because everytime I see you, my heart starts beating faster and my hands get sweaty and I don’t know how to act! And the guys said that sounds like I’m in love with you-- and I am! I am! But when I finally started to do something about it, you ran away from me! I didn’t know what to do. Besides, if I fell in love with you...it could mess with our jobs. Because if for any reason, something happens, they’d fire you before they’d ever trade me. And you’ve worked too hard to have an opportunity like this be taken away from you because of me. So... I didn’t know what to do. And then you just kept ignoring me and saying those things about how you’re just a nerdy analyst…. It felt like we weren’t on the same page anymore and I didn’t know where it came from or what to do either so I tried to give you space. But then you shut me out. And you said we shouldn’t be friends. So I thought that meant.... you wanted to be more than friends? And the boys were saying that you being mean to me was just you having a hard time having feelings for me but then you… uh, yelled at me so I left you alone. But that doesn’t mean I stopped thinking about you.” He placed one of his hands on top of your tentatively, giving you the option to shoo his hand away. When you didn’t, he rubbed the skin on top of your hand. “It never meant I stopped caring about you.”
He sighed. “I guess I see now that I should not have given you space. I should’ve been better for you because that’s what you deserve.”
“I could’ve been better too, this isn’t all your fault. I said some mean things.”
“I promise you, that when we’re together I’m not a NHL player. I’m just me… just Tim from Germany who likes hockey. You have always seen me for who I am, and that’s...that’s something I love about you.”
Your breath got caught in your throat. Love… was a big word. Love was for confident people. Love was for those who didn’t understand the weight of that four letter word. Love wasn’t a word you threw around. Love was scary. It asked you to place your bandaged heart in someone else’s hands and hope they didn’t drop it, shattering the pieces into smithereens. Love meant letting down those walls that time and time again had proved that needed to stay up. To protect you. To avoid the heartache of broken trust.
And here he was, throwing that word around as if the implications didn’t matter. As if he didn’t leave. As if he didn’t call you a problem. As if he didn’t know the months you spent trying to forget him and the fragments he left behind.
As if he still wasn’t understanding.
“I… I can’t do this.” You go to open the car door only for it to lock. You gasp, and you whip your head around, your eyes sharp. “This is my car, you can’t do that!” His eyes went wide and you tried again, only for it to be locked again. You gritted your teeth and he spoke before you could reprimand him again.
“Don’t shut me out again! You say you can’t do this, okay, but tell me why. We’re supposed to-to talk to each other! We would’ve had no mess if you had just talked to me after you heard what I said! So.. talk to me,” You met his soft eyes, your resolve breaking with just one look. “Please, schatz.”
You slowly pulled your hand off the handle, letting it fall into your lap. You picked at your fingernails while trying to compose your thoughts, Tim’s concerned eyes never leaving you. He murmured your name and you took a deep breath, steadying yourself.
“I’m sorry I just- I don’t know if I can jump back into where we were. I know that… it’s different than I thought but I can’t-” you cut yourself off before you said something you regret and a cold chill ran through you. “It still hurts. I can’t just unhear those things you said. Especially when they came from you. So, I’m going to need time to process everything.”
He placed one of his hands over your fidgeting fingers and you lifted your head to meet his soft eyes. “I’ll give you some space. Just let me know when you know, yeah?” Before you could nod your head, he had opened his door and got out of your vehicle. You quickly got out to question him.
“What are you doing?” He turns around at the sound of your voice.
“I’m… I’m giving you space?”
“How are you planning to get home? Uber?” He shrugged before nodding, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Uh, no. No. Get in.” He raised his eyebrows and you sighed. “It’s almost 11pm, we’re in a dark forestry area, and you are the least threatening person I know. I’m not going to let you get stabbed by some murder psycho; you still mean something to me, you know.”
At that he came over to the car, and the two of you got settled back into your seats. After you buckled up and started the engine, Tim broke his silence.
“Did you mean that? That I still mean something to you?”
You swallowed slowly and took a while to answer his question, your hand resting on the gear shift. You put the car in reverse, and looked over at him. “You’re always going to mean something to me. Just what exactly you are changes.” You backed out of the parking lot and started the drive to his place. He was quiet for a few minutes, pondering your answer, but when he spoke his voice had the quiet confidence he always carried around with him.
“Can I ask what I am right now?” Streetlights illuminated his face and out of the corner of your eye you see him slightly turned towards you, his face unsure.
“No. I’ll keep you updated?”
“Good enough.”
The rest of the drive back to his house was quiet, aside from the lo-fi beats you had playing in the background. Despite the tension, the drive felt comfortable. When you parked in front of his house, he cleared his throat.
“Um, thank you for the ride. I’ll see you around I guess,” He unbuckled his seat belt and placed his hand on the handle.
“Goodnight Tim.” Despite your smile, Tim really hoped your goodnight didn’t also mean goodbye. He got out of your car, walked up the steps to his door, unlocked it and gave you a small wave before he went inside.
Tim was true to his word. He gave you space. He didn’t go back to the lookout spot or the war memorial, knowing those were your sanctuaries before they were his. He didn’t ask for updates, he didn’t stop by your office, he didn’t ask Josh how you were doing.
And you appreciated it. The time and space left you alone with your thoughts and you often visited the lookout spot or the war memorial, trying to find some peace, but those spots were now shared with Tim. So, for the first time in a long time, you spent time in your apartment.
When you moved in, you hadn’t done anything to the place. Spaces were temporary in your experience. It was more hassle than it was worth to try to make the space your own if, in a year everything was a clean slate. But Dani was right. It had been close to six years now since you moved in. Six years. You had a stable job, you had friends here, it was time to accept that maybe this was more than temporary.
You started by unpacking the last few boxes that were stacked in the hallway. You replaced the command hooks hanging your picture frames with nails. You got new paint to liven up the living room from the basic beige it was before. You put the work into making your apartment really yours. You had to stop living behind walls and this was a first step.
The next step was to really open up.
***
You were waiting outside the dressing room for Tim to get out. You came down as soon as practice finished so you knew you wouldn’t miss him. You leaned against the cool concrete, trying to control your bouncing leg. He was one of the last out of the dressing room and you shyly smiled at the other players who left. When he came out, you popped off from the wall and stood in front of him.
“Do you still want to know why I picked hockey?” You could tell your question caught him off guard but he nodded nonetheless. “You had asked and I brushed it off...because it hurt to think about. Because it was my dad...He loved hockey. Everywhere we went, there was a team he could cheer for, but he always wished that his hometown team would win, no matter how bad they were. He took me to a game once. I had asked why he liked it so much, it was cold and loud and people were drunk and I’m pretty sure our team was losing. We were down in the crowd and he said to me, ‘Hockey is this great sport. It connects people. It creates families right before your eyes. Enemies can become teammates. This...this sport can be a family for you, anywhere you go. I hope one day you can find something that does the same thing for you.’ Two weeks later, he had a heart attack. So, I held onto the one thing that he found belonging in. I liked my math, it made sense, and I’m good at it. But when it came to doing something with my life, I just- I wanted something to make my dad proud of me, you know? I wanted to feel connected to him.”
Tim was silent but he pulled you into a hug, your head going into the crook of his neck. His arms went around your waist and he held you for a minute. “Your dad would be proud of you. I know he would. Why’d you tell me now though?”
“Well, friends share personal stuff, right?” You pulled away from the hug just enough to catch his eyes. You looked up at him hopefully, and he smiled.
“Yeah, they do.” He broke the hug, but kept an arm slung over your shoulder. “C’mon, friends also eat brussel sprouts for each other.” You laughed at his distaste for them and the two of you walked out the parking lot together, his arm still slung around your shoulders.
***
You looked up at the ceiling, your bedsheets twisted beside you. It had been about two weeks since you told Tim about your dad, and since then, the two of you had been exchanging texts daily. It felt familiar, even though both of you knew it was different. Not a bad different, just… different. You’d been over to his place a couple times and he came over for your place for a ‘welcome back’ dinner.
You were nervous to show him your apartment, but you knew you had grown into the space. It was no longer generic beige walls and command strips. The living room had an accent wall and you put nails in the wall to hang your family photos in the hallway. Tim took his time looking around your space, spending extra time in the hallway. He stopped in front of the picture of your family, all four of you, and smiled.
“My parents are coming into town when we play the Caps in December, if you want to meet them?” He had said when you sat down to eat. You sputtered your drink a little and set down the glass.
“Only if...you meet Dani when we go to Seattle in January?” His face broke into a grin and he nodded.
“I’d love that.” The rest of the dinner had no issues, just two friends catching up and getting familiar with each other again.
But he wanted you to meet his parents. He wanted you to meet the people who raised him, his family. And you didn’t have any hesitations. You wanted to meet the people who made Tim who he is.
This past week solidified that you knew what you wanted. You wanted to meet Tim’s family, you wanted to show him around Seattle, you wanted to be with him. If he still wanted to be with you.
If.
He had been pretty clear where he stood on his feelings, but the voice in the back of your mind taunted you with that one tiny two letter word. He might have seen how you reacted, how unstable you were, and how you weren’t ready to jump into things as a sign you didn’t want this. He could’ve taken your steps to being friends again as being just friends again. He could’ve-
You weren’t going to wait around to let what-if’s and might of’s and could’ve’s waft around in your head. You needed to talk to him, needed to see him. So in your pajama pants and a hoodie, you braved the Canadian night and drive to his house. You parked the car, rather haphazardly, but it could wait. You skipped a step walking up to his door and quickly phoned him.
You paced back and forth on the small porch as the phone rang three times before he picked up.
“Hallo?” His accent was thicker in his native language, the harsh constants sounding so soft from his lips.
“Can you come open the door?”
“What?”
“I’m outside. Can you open the door?”
“What? It’s like...early,”
A sigh escapes you. “Tim. I know. I know now.”
“Well if you looked at a clock before you left your place, you would’ve known earlier. That would’ve-”
“Tim.” You gulped and your voice trembled slightly. “I’m ready. I know what I want.” The tone of your voice dropped its lightheartedness and that alone was enough to shake the sleep from his mind. But your words? More than enough to get him out of bed and racing (as quietly as he could in the dark) towards you.
He opened the front door in his sleep joggers to see you pacing and shaking your arms. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so he took the opportunity to admire you. The way your hair fell, your Senator pajama pants that Brady gave you as a gag gift, the way you bit your lip between your teeth.
“Hey.” His voice broke you out of your trance, your head whipping around to see him standing in the doorframe.
“Hi.” Your voice was quiet, the nerves getting the best of you. You stood there for a while, just looking at each other. His hair was a mess and he was wearing the grey hoodie you knew for a fact was his favourite. “Oh, right, I have to go first. Um...Are- are you still sure about your feelings for me?” He nodded. “And-and they’re for sure, good feelings?”
“… They’re such good feelings.” You nodded and gave your body another shake through, as if to dissipate the nerves racing throughout your veins.
“I know it’s taken me a while to kinda sort everything out but… I like you too. That’s why hearing those things hurt so much. That’s why I had to take some time. I've been alone for most of my life and it was scary to let someone in so easily, unknowingly. You just waltzed in and made yourself at home in my heart and it felt like you belonged so I… I didn’t even realize you could hurt me. And when I heard those things, it hurt more. It just solidified that I should’ve stayed alone. You can’t get hurt if there’s no one to hurt you right? But every talk, every late night drive, everything we had...it was worth all the hurt. So I’m ready. I want to do this with you, even if it hurts. I don’t know if I can do life without you.” He pushed himself off of the doorframe and came to stand in front of you, his hand cupping your cheeks, soothing the skin under your eyes.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you and I don’t plan on doing it ever again, Y/n, you have to know that.” You nodded against his hands and you could feel some of his tension fade from his body. “Does this mean… we could be more than friends?”
“I want to be much more than friends with you, Tim.” You bit your lip to try to stop your smile from growing so wide, but it broke through when you saw how wide his smile was and how his eyes crinkled with joy.
“Does this mean I can kiss you now?” He asked softly, already leaning in. He left space between the two of you so you could decide but you easily leaned into him, your lips meeting. It was gentle but it was loving. You moved in sync, Tim’s hand moving to the back of your head to push you closer to him. Eventually, you pulled away for air.
“Schatz…” He breathed and you laughed lightly.
“You know, I don't think you've told me what that really means,” You said with a cheeky smile.
“Would you like me to say it in English, sweetheart?” He brushed his nose with yours.
“Hmm, German is fine,” You tilted your head upwards, almost brushing your lips with his. With your teasing, he let out a groan, bringing you in for another kiss. This time he broke for air, his eyes still slightly closed.
“You know, you cured my homesickness. I never felt like I missed home because I found home in you,” He whispered. Your heart melted and you brought your lips together with a passion he hadn’t seen from you before. Your hands tangled in his hair and he chased your lips as if it was a breakaway. When you broke for air, the two of you were breathless.
“As much as I want to keep doing that, it’s also very early and I am tired. Can we go back to bed please?” His arms were still around your waist, but he leaned back enough that you could see his face, puppy dog eyes and all. You nodded to his request with a soft smile, and went to remove yourself from his arms and go back to your car, but he tightened his grip.
“I got you now, so I’m not letting you go.” You buried your head in the crook of his neck and slowly the two of you made your way into the warm house. He led you through the dark hallways to his bedroom, giggling and sneaking kisses where you could.
You fell asleep so easily, the quickest you have the entire time you had lived in Ottawa. And it wasn’t only Tim’s warmth, or the way his sheets smell like hockey tape and his peppermint shampoo. You had finally opened yourself up. You had found that belonging your dad always wanted you to. And you found that in Tim; whether he knew it or not, he was home.
let me know what you think! thanks for reading!
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taglist: @heatherawoowoo
#the summer fic exchange 2k21#tim stützle#tim stuetzle#nhl imagine#nhl fic#tim stützle imagine#tim stützle fic#tim stuetzle imagine#tim stuetzle fic#ottawa senators imagine#ottawa senators fic#nhl x reader#hockey fic#abby writes
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i was listing all my favorite panels on the final chapter but i realized i listed almost every pages of it 🥺 no wonder this final chapter will be turned into postcards they are all beautiful 🥺 personally these are my favorites
i still haven't collected all my thoughts and i don't think i will ever be agdjdks all i feel since yesterday is just pure gratefulness. i'm just so incredibly happy that i got to witness this series unfold, grateful for all the people i came to be friends with along the way, lucky to be able to meet amazing bloggers, writers, content creators, fanfic writers and fanartists, and most of all, i'm entirely grateful because this series gave me opportunities to discover and ignite my love again in doing artworks, illustrations and contents to which i have already forgotten for years. it gave me a little confidence that i could be / could give something (it wasn't much i know xD but still, knowing me, i thought i'll never be able to create something) *pats my back*
i'm so happy that i really have enjoyed my stay here in the fandom because of you beni and to all the few people i became really friends with (you girls know who you are) and i love you all and cherish all the moments and crackheads stuffs we did. i remember that this roasting happened was because the angst is too much for us and that's why we have all come to an agreement to roast eren and everyone in the series. love that this community has been very helpful to me when i feel lonely and you all really did put a smile in my face. the way, we're all chaotic during chapter 123 and 138, we're all losing our minds(!) but my favorite moment will always be during 138 on how we're all betraying beni left and right front and back top to bottom 😂 it was definitely the most chaotic month we've ever been and i'm so moved on how respectful we are to each other and just chill here and vibe and just appreciate everything in the manga. it has been a joyous journey and i'll never forget this amazing experience with you all!
most of all, i thank isayama-sensei because if it wasn't for him, i wouldn't be able to meet all of you! 😊💛 i cherish and adore you all! cheers to another end of an era and cheers to a new beginning! *coughs jjk roast era, i will join you soon when i catch up*
ayna it took me a whole ass week to reply to you because i didn’t wanna get all emotional again right after the chapter that i ran away to work and read other things in order to keep my mind off it please forgive me i could not handle the pain of messages like these, i was feeling too much. but now with a week gone i can collectively reply now!
but no for real, almost every single panel within chapter 139 is stunning. like if yams doesn’t consider making merch outta these i don’t know what to think!
everything you said in that paragraph i absolutely agree too— through the journey of snk we were all able to meet such amazing people no matter what it was we had to gush about. from writers, to artists, to graphic makers, to meta writers, to bloggers, to simply just enjoying the little things about snk we all found each other and that alone is a blessing. i’m so glad you found your love for art again ayna, like thank freaking god you came off anonie just so i could yell at you for being talented, stunning, never been seen before and everything in between. you’re amazing artist and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. i’m so glad snk was able to be your little paradise away from irl things— an escape with something you love with people joining you along the way adoring the same series with you.
honestly— i have no idea where the heck i would’ve been without you guys. no you don’t understand y’all really made my days and nights on end, any time i felt a little lost or out of it, you guys pulled me right back and outta there, i couldn’t be more thankful for every individual i’ve met on here. haha i remember it so well, everyone was being too angsty and we collectively decided no this ain’t it and started roasting every single little thing not matter what the heck it was. eren’s ass to his forehead please this was the peak of our culture ahdjwgjdbs oh my god not the 138 top ten anime betrayals. the way y’all went IM SO SORRY BENI AND I WAS LIKE DONT SAY SORRY THIS ON YOUE FJAGXHBWBS AND THEN WE STARTED GRILLING EACH OTHER INSTEAD HONESTLY WHAT THE HECK WERE WE DOING SHHDJSJDN i’ll cherish those days forever and more. the best days of my life— 🥺💗
i’m glad this safe space was able to make your days and you were able to meet new people. it makes me happy knowing you guys all respect one another and feel safe discussing anything and everything here. i loved seeing everyone get along from roasting to supporting each other with real life things. i honestly couldn’t have asked for more with my snk journey and im glad i was able to start it with you guys and end it with y’all. if i could do it all over again— i would in a heartbeat.
yes i will thank isayama here because without the man himself working so hard these past 11/12 years i wouldn’t have been able to meet y’all! yams you get that sauna and expect us to cry in there sir you did that and did it flawlessly. but no reals yams better get that sauna. i don’t accept no for an answer. cheers to snk and the journey we’ve had— i can’t wait for what’s next! AJKDBSJSNS JJK ROAST ERA? I THINK YES?
but no seriously. thank you for being apart of my snk journey— i love and adore every single one of y’all and couldn’t have asked for more. im honestly so glad i found you 🥺💗
#ayna used up the photo limit here and i couldn’t spam heart memes because i wanna pass away at how much i adore you#🥺💗#I SAID I WONT CRY BUT I DID NOW WHAT#replies#nitatalks
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Can I ask you something ? It's okay if you're not up to write it or if you're too uncomfortable. I actually have a blog but I'm too shy to reach out to you and I'm afraid you'll find my ask weird, but I'll ask! I have a little brother, the coolest one I must say, he is 15 and we sometimes watch wtfock together, he always lights up when Jens is on screen, I think he finds him cool and always scream when he is on screen. He likes Sander too and he think his hair is snow 😂 (a)
(b) since Wtfock started I try to use some characters to tell stories when I spend time with him, and I was wondering if it's possible for you to write a little story so I can try to read it to him? I always try to add a disabled kid on my stories and since he likes Jens and Sander the most I always use them as big brothers to them, but now I'm out of ideas 😕 If you don't want to write it, maybe you can give me ideas? So I can imagine something for him and comes up with a story!
Oh, god, anon! Please, please never feel shy to reach out to me! I promise I’m so boring and basic and just the plainest person ever! There’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise you.
Jens is pretty cool if you ask me (if we ignore how shitty he can be, he’s pretty chill, we have a lot worse characters than him) so I 100% get your brother when he screams when Jens is on the screen, I do that too!
I have no idea what I’m writing here, so I’m so sorry if it sucks too badly, but I’ll try my best:
Jens and Sander are best friends. They’ve been friends since forever and Sander is so kind and gentle. Jens is a lot louder, prouder. Sander is chill and Jens is not. Sander still likes painting in this universe, but in smaller canvas, with thicker paints. Jens can’t see, so Sander likes to work on things Jens will be able to touch. When they’re both kind of not having good days, Sander will take all his tools, paints, canvas, papers, etc to Jens’ place. They’ll sit on the floor and talk about ideas. Sander will give Jens the brushes, one by one, letting Jens pick everything he’ll have to use. From the brushes to the colors of the paints, paper or canvas, etc. Jens’ bedroom floor will feel too small, that’s how much stuff Sander brought there. Jens’ mind is amazing! He’s a genius, Sander says, because he picks the best colors every time. And Sander will have to work hard to make it look good. Jens has ideas that are difficult for Sander to make because Jens’ brain is a lot more artistic than his. Jens cheers him on, says Sander can do it, he just needs to be smarter. He’s a natural, but Sander can learn, that’s what Jens says. While Sander paints, Jens lights up a joint for them and he even gives Sander more ideas when he’s stuck, looking at his unfinished work. Once he’s finally done and they’re both feeling better, Sander lets the canvas dry while they finish their joint. He holds Jens’ hand and shows him all the details, the textures he made, where one paint meets the other, etc. Sometimes he’s anxious and they touched the art when it’s not completely dry yet, so Sander has to grab a cloth to clean Jens’ hand.
Sander is hospitalized, it’s been a few weeks now. Robbe visits him daily and often Jens goes with him or he goes by himself too when Robbe is busy or something. When he goes by himself, Jens usually makes himself at home right away, dropping his things at the door. Sander is usually on his bed, not really talkative. So Jens takes his shoes off too, finally walking to Sander’s bed, not even asking for permission, just dropping himself next to Sander, sighing loudly, looking at the white ceiling. He talks about how school sucks, how Jens is counting the days to have all the free time in the world. He talks about Jana leaving. Sander looks at him and Jens rolls his eyes, quickly changing the subject before Sander can start annoying him with questions like and how do you feel about that? like he’s his therapist or something. Robbe already does that job just fine. He talks about the huge fall that happened a day or two ago when Robbe was skating. As he talks, he looks from the corner of his eyes at Sander because he knows that will get his friend’s attention. His stupid boyfriend falling and hurting himself. It wasn’t that bad, Jens explains as Sander sits up, asking, worried, what happened. Robbe is just not that good at skating as he says he is, that’s all. Sander rolls his eyes and lies down again, looking at the window to their left. Jens continues with his detailed description of how his days are going since Sander was admitted, making sure to leave some room between them because Sander doesn’t really like to be touched sometimes. They both like these days, just the two of them, because Jens is not one to sugar-coat anything. Makes Sander feel heard and seen even though he barely opens his mouth, letting Jens do all the talking.
Let me know if these are good and what your brother thinks of them! Thank you so much for trusting me to help you <33
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Will Not be a Victim for my character, Blondie.
The neglected Blondie. I need to get back to my Powers Verse too. And the immortal bitches. I have a Sweetie and Michelle story drafted though.
Warnings for mentions of violence, referenced torture, bit of ableism. Pretty tame compared to what I usually write.
The phone rang from her nightstand, and again, and again. Then it started pinging with texts: Terry-Ellen has spoken to me but my own daughter won’t answer her phone.
I’ll be arriving at your house at 6PM.
Blondiw growled and dialled the number. The phone rang only twice before the deep voice came on the other line: “Oh, so you’ve decided to stop ignoring me?”
“Fucking hell, Dad. I’m twenty-three,” Blondie reminded him. “Chill.’
"Language, Melinda,” he scolded lightly. “I don’t care of you’re eighty-three. You’re still my daughter and we just got you back. I need to be sure that you’re okay.”
"I'm fine, Dad."
"Are you really?"
Blondie pinched the bridge of her nose. Don't call him a nosy twat, don't call your dad a nosy twat. She breathed out. "You hired a fucking bodyguard for me. "That's humiliating enough, and now you're prying into my life like I'm a child."
"Language. Good lord, you take after your mother," he sighed. "Who are you embarrassed in front of? You haven't left your house in more than two weeks." His voice was so even and annoyingly calm. Blondie swallowed back the snarl crawling up her throat. "Is it really prying to be concerned about my daughter? I just want to know that you're okay. I haven't seen you since-"
"Okay, okay, I'll stop by tomorrow. No need to stop by." She knew her father would have some words if she saw the state her house was in. Tej wasn't hired to clean after the slob, and no one had patched up the hole Blondie punched in the living room.
"Are you sure? If I come over you can stay home and rest," he offered.
"You just got on my ass for staying in my house!"
"You know that is not what happened, Melinda."
"I'll be there at eleven in the morning, okay?"
"I'll expect you by twelve."
Blondie huffed and hung up as he chuckled.
***
Tej was prodding her. "Get up. We've gotta go soon."
Blondie lifted her head abd ahot rhe other wonan a glare. "There's no we. You're staying home."
"You know that's not how it works," she said, unfazed. "I'll make you coffee."
"Don't." Blondie pyr one foot on the floor and grabbed one crutch. The other must have fallen over at some point in the night, and Blondie whacked Tej with the crutch in her hand when the thin woman tried to help her retrieve the fallen one. "Scram, bitch."
"Very nice, " Tej said sarcastically, handing her the crutch anyway. She caught the crutch Blondie swung at her. "Have you ever considered treating the help like people?"
"Go on, call me a bitch. There's nothing in your contract that says you can't insult me, yeah?"
"I'll leave you to get dreased," Tej said dryly. "Your hair looks nice. Did you wash it?"
She shut the door behind her just in time for the television remote to crash into the wood.
Blondie had only worn bath robes and undergarments for the last few weeks and she hadn't gotten to modifying any pants to her new body. Skirts? No, fighting in a skirt wasn't a great idea - if she needed to fight. Fights were always possible.
Shorts. A pair of shorts, one sock, one combat boot. The left bood sat all alone and sad. She kicked it over. Hair in a bun.
"Your coffee, Blondie." Tej shoved the steaming mug right in her face while Blondie was trying to sneak out the front door.
"I told you not to make me coffee," Blondie grumbled.
"Coconut creamer and one Sweet-N-Low," Tej tempted her, voice sing-song.
"I'm getting coffee on the way to my dad's, shithead." And she was out tje door, slamming it behind her - or trying to. Tej caught it just before it closed and slipped out after her.
"Want me to drive? You can relax," Tej offered, reaching for the keyring in Blondie's hand. Blondie jerked it away.
"I'll relax when you're dead. It's my fucking car."
"Cool, cool."
Tej was in the passenger's seat before Blondie had even opened her door so she couldn't even lock her out. Tej smiled at her knowingly. Blondie gripped the steering wheel sp hard her fingers turned white.
Tej tried to make conversation throughout the drive and Blondie turned the volume up a few notches every time she opened her mouth. After a million years, she pulled up in front of the coffee shop.
"I'll get you an iced mocha cappuccino," Blondie said as she got out of the car. Tej was stepping out too.
"Nah, I wanna look at the menu," she replied. Blondie squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, reciting the "calming phrases" from her counseling sessions as a teenager.
When was this place ever this busy? Blondie sighed as she joined the line, Tej at her side. "You know, you're paying for your own shit."
"That's fair," Tej shrugged. "Your daddy pays me weekly."
Blondie sneered at her.
The line inched forward. A woman and her child joined. Seriously, did the entire fucking town want coffee right now?
"Wow..." the woman said, her voice hushed. "What happened?"
Blondie didn't realize the woman was talking to her until she felt a tap on her shoulder.she turned around, finding the woman's wide eyes on her still-bandaged stump. The little girl stared too, reaching for Blondie's crutch. Blondie jerked it away from her sticky hand and scowled, but neither noticed.
"What happened?" the woman asled again. "Why don't you get a prosthetic leg?"
"I pesteres someone with intrusive questions and she pulled out a machete," Blondie snapped. The woman recoiled.
"Ma'am, you're being very insensitive, and you should teach your child not to touch anyone's mobility aids." Tej launched right into a lecture. "Please treat my friend as you would treat-"
Blondie's temper boiled over. She raised one crutch and bashed it into the woman's knee. Tej's hand clamped over her own mouth as the woman fell over with a screech, dragging her daughter down with her.
"Oops. My bad." Blondie turned her back on the pair.
"Did you see that?" the woman cried as she got back to her feet. The cashier looked over from the customer he was dealing with, frowning.
"I'll be out fast," Blondie promised the cashier. "No trouble."
They walked out with their coffees and gluten-filled breakfast, Blondie's coffee spouting steam that smelled of coconut... Something she could have gotten at home. Tej predictably got a mocha cappuccino.
"I mean," Tej finally said during their resumed drive, mouth full of bagel, "not that I blame you much, but public battery isn't a food luck."
Blondie turned the radio up higher.
The guard let them into the gated, cookie cutter community. Towering houses were identical, painted a cream not a shade lighter or darker than the house nextdoor. Perfect gardens, no blade of grass even a centimeter overgrown. One house had flowers a different shade of pink than the rest. Blondie might have struggled to differentiate the houses if Chase weren't waving frantically at the end of one driveway.
"Melinda, love, how are you?" The large man was coming at her with open arms as she stepped out of the car. She was too slow thinking of an excuse to get out of hugging her stepdad, and he squeezed her tight.
"Peachy," she told him.
He hugged Tej too before letting both women into the house. He was talking a mile a minute and Blondie let Tej handle the conversation.
"I see you brought beverages. No tea then?" he asked. Blondie shook her head. "Oliver's in his study."
"Tell him hi for me," Tej chirped, and Blondie decided she would not do that. She hurried away when the other two started discussing how much they lift at the gym.
115 pounds? Unimpressive, Tej.
She didn't bother knocking on the mahogany door, throwing it right open. "Yo."
Oliver swiveled around in his chair like a James Bond villain. He even looked the part with his coiffed grey hair and serious expression. "Good morning, Melinda. You were almost on time. Have a seat."
"Nice to see you too," Blondie said sarcastically, falling back ontp the plump sofa.
"Oh, no, you're covered in crumbs! Why didn't you brush yourself off outside?"
"Just vacuum later. I had a muffin."
Oliver sighed, turning back to his laptop. "Depending on your recovery time, we'll get you fitted for prosthesis." He flicked through images. Some were very realistic and even matching her skin color, others clunky and robotic, some abstract and hardly resembling a limb. "We should find a design that fits your activity level, preferably a more realistic one. No one has to know. At that point we'll get you to that physical therapist I've been talking to, and-"
"Whoa, hold on a minure. Don't I get a say?" Blondie snapped. "And who said I want a realiatic one? Maybe I don't want to pretend I'm fucking normal."
"Whatever you want, darling. But I'm not going to let you hold yourself back."
"You tell me to take it easy abd slow down and then you get on my ass for being behind the curve. The fuck is that?"
Oliver sighed. He turned back tp his daughter, choosing his next words carefully. "I know how much you enjoy your hobbies. I think it'll be better for your mental health if you get back into dance and martial arts soon."
Back into dance. She was already the largest girl in the studio, dwarfing the tiny instructor even when she was twelve. Skilled as she was, she never had a ballerina's body and her instructor's main complaints were her thundering footsteps and "unladylike gait". Well, at least pointe shoes wouldn't hurt a prosthetic leg.
"It's my body and my life," Blondie reminded him.
"And it's my money that pqid your medical bills," he shot back. She rolled her eyes. "Melinda, you know I just want what's best for you. I want to help you. I need to help you."
"Help yourself first," Blondie snarled. "How's your boytoy?"
"I've been married to Chase since you were eight. Stop calling him my boytoy," Oliver sighed. Any other time, Blondie might have laughed at how annoyed her dad got when she mocked his husband. "And fifteen years isn't such a significant age difference when you're out of your twenties."
"He's a gold-digger."
"He's well worth what he costs, and he loves you like his own daughter. Come on, stop changing the subject. You mean so much to me. You were the victim of such a-"
"I'm not a victim," she hissed, leaning forward in her seat. Her eyes narrowed. "If anyone's a victim, it's that bitch Camilla. You know, queen of the cabbage patch."
Oliver's eyebrows knit together. "Cabbage patch?"
"Because she's a vegetable," Blondie said, and her father sighed heavily.
"I'm not denying that she's a bad person, but you don't need to be discriminatory. Other, much nicer people live with brain damage."
"Dad, shut the fuck up and listen to me," Blondie demanded. "I fought my way out. I'm not a victim!"
"Yes, yes, you're a survivor," he said in a voice like he was placating a toddler.
"No, I'm Melinda fucking Van Doren."
He lifted his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Before anything, you're my daughter and I want what's best for you."
"I actually know what's best for me because I am me."
"I'm your father. I know you pretty damn well."
"Yeah, okay. I'll keep in tough." Blondie started to stand, but Oliver held a hand up.
"Stay for lunch. Samantha made two extra plates."
It still weirded her out that her father had a cook. Her mother missed having servants after the divorce, but Blondie tried her best to keep her home free of employees. And she got stuck with Tej, the most intrusive Van Doren employee.
Chase brought two plates of chicken parmesan to the damn study.
"Workaholic," he said and rolled his eyes, kissing Oliver on the cheek. Blondie rolled her eyes. "Well, I've been having a lovely chat with Miss Tej while you two have been bonding."
Bonding. Sure.
Blondie stabbed into her chicken. She imagined it was the Queen - no, Camilla - that she was stabbing over and over, making sure she never recovered. Because she wasn't the Queen's victim.
She was Melinda "Blondie" Van Doren. She was a fucking hero and people would know that soon.
#bthb#bthb card#bth bingo#bad things happen bingo#bad things bingo#my writing#my characters#blondie#tej#whump#female whump#female whumpee#lady whump#past trauma#ableism tw
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You can tell im feelin’extra creative these days, so here you go - no one asked about it, but its a fact - a Mountain one-shot for yall :’) precious boi is precious
"Alright girls, you're free for today" Sister Imperator said as she stood up from her chair and smiled to us. We all nodded as to thank her for another great lesson in the arts of witchcraft. Before leaving the the big room, filled with books and numerous plants, bottles, jars and so on, Sister reminded us - "Please, girls, do not forget about the Sabbath this weekend. I really want all of you to be part of the ritual. Papa Nihil and Cardinal Copia will be there as well. I want you to show them how strong your powers have become!". She was a sweetheart. At least to us, I suppose. Sister always looked after us, treated us like her own daughters no matter the fact that she had none... "I can't wait! I'm finally going to my first Sabbath! What's more - Papa and Cardinal will be attending too! Can you imagine, Y/N?" Lee got way too excited about this. She was a 'new-found-witch' and one of my closes friends in the Church. From the first day we met, two years ago, we both felt a sudden "click", like two pieces of puzzle matching! And since then we haven't separated for nothing. I looked at her, smiling becaue of her visable excitement, and said, while grabbing my books - "Lee, chill! You're gonna have many more". "I know, but i feel like this one will be special!" she smiled back at me as I sat on Sister's desk. She wouldn't have minded... Right? "What? Is that some intuition awakening I sense?" I joked, puching her jokingly on the arm as we both heard the classroom door opening. As calmly as I was sitting on Miss Imperator's desk, I jumped from it, fixing my silky black dress. That was our basic witch uniform. It was similar to the sisters' one but not so covering and strict.
Me and my friend turned our heads to the entrance, trying to pull the most serious face we were capable of, but soon after that our worries were gone. It was Mountain. Well, not all worries... Mountain was one of Cardinal's ghouls. The drummer, to be exact. "Hello, ladies. Am I interupting something?" he asked politely. We shook our head silently, as we felt a small relief going through our bodies. "We were just talking about the upcoming Sabbath. Everyone will be there, you should come as well! Ask your brothers" - Lee spoke. 'What? What THE FUCK?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!' I was shouting mentally at her and, nine hells, I wish my telepathy was stronger! She knew I had a thing for the man, standing before us, and yet she kept making things worse for me. Mountain raised an eyebrow, as much as i could tell from his mask, and grabbed his hands behind his back, answering softly - "Thank you for the invitation. We'd love to come see your progress". "I'm sure you would" Lee giggled, making her way out of the room. 'That slut' I thought to myself, as I tried to follow her awkwardly, before feeling someone's soft grip on my wrist. My blood suddenly started boiling and my heart felt that. It was jumping like crazy in my chest! "Wait, uh... Y/N. I was thinking... Uh.. I see that you lack thyme!" Mountain said, as I felt the nervous tone in his voice. I expected him to say anything, but this, which caused a massive chaos in my head - doubt, confusion, arousal and curiousity. I turned to him, raising an eyebrow "I lack what?" "No, not you. The room. The jar, I mean! Sister told me that... " he started explaining as I giggled. "Let me guess, you wanna go get some from the gardens with me, because you don't know how it looks like" - I teased him as he smiled nervously and said "Exactly".
We both laughed along the way to the gardens of the Clegry. They were one of my favorite places here - it smelled nice, they looked magical and made you forget about the problems you had. I suppose it wasn't only the overall atmosphere, but Sister's spell as well. As soon as we arrived, Mountain opened the white gate for me, which made me blush slightly. He obviously noticed that, saying - "Your cheeks are the same color as the papaver..." 'Papaver? He knew the latin name for poppy?' I asked myself. I have to admit, I was impressed by his knowledge, but not that surprised. After all, he was an Earth ghoul. "You seem surprised" - he spoke, smirking. I shook my head, letting out a small laugh, as I felt where this was going. Mountain knew well about my herb obssesion and it was showing. "I am" - i spoke as i saw him, picking some thyme and grabbing a little amount of dirt from the ground. I continued "You're doing great, differentiating the herbs and flowers for someone who doesn't know how they look like". Mountain then turned to me all of a sudden, which made me jump a bit. I thought I crossed the flirty line with him and he was about to do something to me, having in mind that his left hand was clunched in a fist. Few seconds after that he slowly relaxed his fingers and there was no clue from the dirt! I just saw a growing white rose, coming out of his palm. 'Damn you!' I thought as he gave me the flower, smirking. Of course, my cheeks were burning once again, but I took 'his creation' and smiled shyly as he spoke softly, locking his eyes with mine - "You're not the only one doing magic here. I can't wait to see you on your Sabbath this week." "I can't wait to see you sooner" I spoke quietly, giggling because of all the little butterflies in my stomach and Mountain's charming smile. "I'll see you tonight here then" he spoke, placing a kiss on my cheek, before leaving. 'Damn you' I thought, looking at the pale flower and smiling like an idiot.
#the nameless ghouls#nameless ghouls#the band ghost#ghost bc#ghost#mountain#ghoul#one-shot#x reader#swiss#rain#dewdrop#aether#papa emeritus
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Today was an excellent day. I had very very vivid dreams last night but I still slept okay. I woke up about 4 minutes before my alarm and I felt pretty good. I stretched for a little while and got up and got dressed. So cute. My hair smelled good. I really like the new hair oil I got flash has a sample. I'll probably end up buying it once the sample runs out. It's just that excellent.
I made breakfast and left here around 8. My bike down to the harbor. And I got to the BMI before anyone else. The doors were locked and the lights were off. Eventually someone let me in and turn the lights on for me. Someone from the office. And I got to work getting things set up.
I'm always very stressed for I have in the neighborhood tours but this was such a good group. They were older than I am used to. 2nd and 3rd graders but it was a school for dyslexic and learning differences schools. So it was actually kind of perfect for them. They were so sweet. I had such a nice time with them.
I did City Builders first and then there was one little boy who just wanted to help. No matter what it was he wanted to help. So I had him cleaning up pieces of paper and picking up scissors and cutting tape for me. And then once we got to the in the neighborhood tour I made him my security guard it was essentially my assistant. And he loved it. We finished a few minutes early so I had them come back through with me and pick everything up so I could go home. Or actually go to my other job but you know. They were really great and it was a really nice morning.
I left around 11:30 and was able to bike to the harbor and watch James firing. It was a very good one and I ended up talking to a couple people on the pier who had questions about constellation and if they could go see the ship and stuff. So that was really nice. And then I headed up to the bus.
I got to the school and I did some organizing and worked on a few projects stuff. I worked on my bead projects to show them. And I had to do some troubleshooting because chelsi accidentally locked herself out of her car and was going to be late. But I wasn't that worried about it. I was worried about her but the kids would be fine.
I got the kids and brought them upstairs and we did a prompt about awards for the class that I'm going to be giving them sometime next week. And it was just really fun. It was a good day. I had some trouble with one of the boys you just would not focus no matter what I did. But it was still a good time.
Recess was good. They let us on the basketball court again so the girls have to skate and I had almost all of my class on the basketball court and it was nice watching them share. I skated a little bit but I wanted to let them have more fun. I still like to skate with them a lot though. I wish I had more spaces near me where there was big flat open areas but that's okay. The alley is just a little too bumpy. Maybe James's alley is better.
Chelsea came around dinner time and then we went to art. And the kids did a really good job. I showed them what I had made and I think he gave some of them a better idea. China decided that she just wants to focus on embroidery. Dallas to. Dayshia the really jumped into it and is embroidering her beads right on the lines of the rose on the fabric that she packed. Beautiful job. The boys were a little hair Miss but they are starting to get it. They still have trouble with getting the stitches right next to each other and are leaving Big to in gaps of their thread. But they're working on it. Everyone was really really engaged and that was really nice to say. Especially cuz it let me sit and work on my own piece. And I only had to stop every once in awhile to give them a new threat. Bringing my own thread from home was definitely the move. That embroidery floss does not work with those needles.
We finished up today and cleaned up. We played a game in the hallway called ships and sailors. And then we went home.
I missed my bus by like a minute. I saw it leave right in front of me. But it was nice out and I had a podcast to listen to. Had to wait until almost 6 but that's okay.
I got word that my package, my wagon Tama was trying to be delivered but because I wasn't home I couldn't deliver it. I already got a refund for it so it's a free Wagon at this point but I'm kind of just like annoyed that it's becoming another one of these things. They're going to try to deliver it again tomorrow but like I can't complain that much if they don't because I didn't pay for it now. But if it's not going to come I'm going to order the wagon again and pay for it. So I just would like this whole thing to be over. Very annoying.
I got back to my neighborhood and went up to Eddie's to get pasta. And then I came home. I cooked and spray painted the medallions that were making awards for the kids out of. And I got my Ipsy. It was a pretty good one. I took a shower and I vaguely dyed my hair again but unsure if it actually took much of it. But that's okay. James is coming over soon and I have the morning off tomorrow. Hoping to your work on some art and just enjoy being home and being quiet with myself. I have four day weekend this weekend too so I'm not that concerned but it'll be nice to just chill.
Hope you all have a great night tonight. Sleep well. I'll tell sweetp that y'all said hello
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