#i need to draw more team canada i got to
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Team Canada moment sketch celebrating the grand return!!!!
#Etho leading the baby llama while beef and pause cheer on was beautiful i think#im like 4 years late but beef said there should be fanart so i should make it#this is from diversity 3 btw!#one of my favorites#to rewatch#so many times#team canada#ethoslab#vintagebeef#pauseunpause#the baby llama#the he#court jester's art#i need to draw more team canada i got to#sky factory fanart is going your way sometime soon#believe in me#please
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Been way too long since I've done anything on here. Been so long, that I believe that I need to update my profile as a whole. Moving on- I have some Captain Barnacles Headcanons, ik they're listed in the picture above, but I wanna go more in depth. I should point out that I also wanna put them in a more organized fashion aswell.
the Headcanons in question:
-Parents died when him+Bianca were young. Probably out on a hunting trip, so they were left alone for a while. Neither of them really remember their parents. This leads to my next Headcanon
-Natquick raised them both. He found them alone, in their den. He probably heard them whining from their den, and tried to find their parents only to discover that they died, so he took them both in.
-I like to think he's Russian, or maybe Greenlandic. He got the accent from studying abroad, in the UK, or something like that. Bianca moved to Canada sometime later.
-He's Multilingual. He knows Russian, Greenlandic, English, and maybe a bit of Spanish from Peso, as well as Siberian from being raised by Natquick.
-I like to think that he listens to Fish in a Birdcage w/ Kwazii. There's a specific album that they both listen to, I just don't remember it's name
-He is Trans and Aro/ace. I have no extra comments.
-He/him. He's fine with anything rlly except she/her, but even then, it won't matter too much. He just prefers he/him.
-Autistic, but can mask pretty well. I've seen someone else say that he's someone that people would at and say that he's not autistic, unless they were autistic themselves, and I 100% agree.
-He totally stims a little with his tail, but not much else.
-He sheds a lot. I took this hc from someone else entirely.
The post in question:
-He doesn't have trouble going to sleep, but he does have trouble staying asleep. He goes to bed a decent time, but will wake up a good few hours later, get out of bed, and might even occasionally check in with the rest of the team. Maybe seeing if any of them are awake. He then goes back to bed. I will also note that he's known to be a very light sleeper. Probably the reason why he has trouble staying asleep.
-On that note; he takes up the entire surface when he sleeps, like he's sprawled out. He doesn't typically use a blanket, unless he's in the Arctic. There, he'll not only use a blanket, but also curl up into a ball.
-He draws in his free time. Not always, but sometimes. He's a pretty decent artist actually.
-He can't retract his claws, so he puts his hands behind his back, to seem less intimidating. He's also known to have them on his hips but it's purely because it's comfortable for him.
-I believe he's in his late 30s-early 40s. No other comments.
-I didn't rlly put this in my drawing, but he is a father figure to everyone on the octopod, except for Prof. Inkling. The emphasis on father figure when it comes to Peso and Dashi.
(This post is prone to edits, bc I'm currently trying to get through the Octonauts series' plus movies)
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Hard to do Crossover
Time to time, watching the lots of crossovers fans do about Varian with anything, I thought about one of the fandom I liked and spend lots of years in it
Does any of you knew about the Hetalia fandom ?
Humanized countries anime, before the creation of Countryballs and Country humans but after the old newspaper cartoons about each one nation spirit like "Uncle Sam" for the USA and "John Bull"for the UK?
(My mind playing easy and silly after a whole day playing difficult xD)
Varian and Hugo cosplaying France and England because I can't decide which one fits better 🫠😎🤓
Super silly draw ~ hahahhahahahah
(My mind playing difficult before that fanart)
I tried to find who in the Hetalia cast would be fitting for a role swap with the Vat7k characters, but they are so different from each other , even the similar things between them have to be pushed xD
Long time ago, my favorite fanfics and fancomics were "Historical accurrate" focused, but most the content was about romance , so I endup becoming a big fan of:
FrUK : France x United Kingdom
USUK : United States x United Kingdom
Usually along with "FACE family" Dynamic, France and England as parents , Canada and America as adoptive sons
Then , I got a more deep liking for England , so I would get any England x (any other country) material
As well for USA x (any other country)
Varian: From a germanic country, so we have some to pick between the very Germany, or Prussia, Austria, Switzerland, Lietchestein, Bravaria or Kugel Mugel, but most of them have a serious stoic attitude
Except Prussia, who likes to play funny, is clean and disciplinated , writing a lot for his journal so everyone can know about his amazing adventures and goals, high self esteem, able to play teacher/mother/father/older brother role to any who wants to take lessons from him or who needs him, during the manga pages (and anime chapters) about Industrial revolution, he and his lil bro showed great engineering skills and enthusiasm.
Hey, when we think about Rapunzel, we were taught about her Germanic origins, then on the Tangled making, there was a mention about how the team wanted Germany as main influence and a few of Spain influence , and maybe not lots of you saw it, but there was a fanart about Prussia and Hungary cosplaying Eugene and Rapunzel that got re-posted on most old Facebook accounts about Hetalia
So feels like Prussia role was already taken at the Tangled cast, as well, Hungary on her cannon scenes, used a frying pan as weapon too.
Next pick for a fitting role for Varian, it may be , America? I don't know xD , joyful, friendly, strong, innovative, but doesn't knows how to measure his skills or social contact so he endups pushing everyone boundaries or ignoring safety codes, loves heroic tales and wants to be the hero of the situation at sigh, too bad he makes exaggerated bad takes due to his inexperience.
England, either for Hugo or Varian
A tsundere who suffered social exclusion during his early existence, who fought all the way to stop being poor, forgotten and put aside to reach riches, glory and power, not losing contact with his magical paranormal friends, yet, having difficult times to accept friendship or love from others, facing betrayings as well, a little bit of low self esteem, trying to compensate with other things (as with aggression and search for more power), for innovation, he tried engineering but his ideas were too eccentric so he would end up laughed at for his impractical machines, yet, searching ways to improve.
I need to make this shorter so I'll skip talking about France
As well about China or any other asian country for Yong
Sadly for Nuru , there are very few African or Oceanic based characters, most of them on a sole official videogame of the series with not enough screen time on the show, yet, nice to search around the fanbase
Any way, find something for an "accurrate " role swap is difficult, maybe cosplaying would be the only thing I would fantasy about xDdDDDDdD
The only "legit" version for a Crossover of Hetalia and Tangled would be creating brand new OCs of each one of the locations in the map of this world, specially about the 7 kingdoms
Bayangor looks kin to any country from Southeast Asia , so I would pick Indonesia (the series got a femenine character sketch, but then, changed it for a male one, either way, just for the manga and not the anime)
Galcrest and Nesdernia would certainly be about native american communities, sadly, most of them are drawn as OCs for the fandom, no actual cannon characters
Pittsford and Corona looks germanic enough, hehe, we could pick similarities with other European countries
The Dark Kingdom gave hints about Scotland , so it's easier
Ingvarr, according to some post, was supposed to be Persian/ Arabic influence, as well for Koto, African influence, but is vague, and both of them, reversing the role of colonization, looking like ... O dear, I have to go.
And that's all, I have to go 🥭⛅🥭🌟🌳🌟🫧⛅🫧⛅🌳🌟🌀🌀🌻 thanks for reading 🪷🌠🏵️🌹🏵️🌹🏵️🌹🏵️
#varian#tangled varian#tts varian#varian the alchemist#varian tts#rta varian#rapunzels tangled adventure#varian and the seven kingdoms#hugo vat7k#vat7k#vat7k fanart#yong vat7k#varian vat7k#varian and the 7 kingdoms#vat7k nuru#princess nuru#nuru vat7k#Hetalia#hetalia world stars#hetalia axis powers#hetalia headcanons#hetalia fanart#hetalia fruk#hetalia usuk#hetalia china#hetalia seychelles#hetalia america#Hetalia England#hetalia france
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pairing: Ona Batlle x f!Reader
warnings: angst
word count: 1724
summary: ona’s kept a rather big secret from you and when you find out, it fills you with uncertainty and nearly breaks you
a/n: set during the arnold clark cup
No More Secrets
‘Ona! Ona you’ve got some explaining to do.’ Mapi states, forcing her way into the room. Alexia’s not far behind her, a cautious expression on her face.
The younger Spanish girl tries to keep a blank face. She’d been crying a lot lately and Mapi’s loud voice made her choke up with emotion.
‘The whole team is downstairs watching your girl play and you’re up here? Never mind that, she has ring finger taped up.’
‘What?’ Ona’s heart stopped for a split second and then she was racing out of her hotel room and down to the function room where the rest of the Spanish team was watching England play Canada.
The screen is big and she arrives at precisely the right moment to see it for herself. You’re taking a throw in and the camera angle is just right, showing the white tape around your finger. Right where your wedding ring rested.
Ona lets out a sob, covering her mouth and sinking down onto the floor.
You loved her. You still loved her.
So lost is she in her emotions that she doesn’t realise she’s crying uncontrollably, huge gasping sobs wracking her body.
She doesn’t register Mapi picking her up gently and taking her back to her room either.
All she knows is that when she manages to get her crying under some semblance of control, both Alexia and Mapi are holding her and rubbing her back comfortingly.
‘She loves me.’
‘She does Ona. Everyone who knows you both can see that.’ Alexia murmurs.
‘You don’t understand. I hurt her so badly, I didn’t mean to but I did. I hurt my wife.’ Ona buries her face in her hands for a moment, remembering the devastated expression you’d had when you had found out she had been in talks with Barcelona.
‘Your wife?’ Mapi prompts quietly.
‘We got married six months ago. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, it wasn’t planned but I don’t regret it.’
Alexia kisses Ona’s cheek in response.
‘Congratulations.’
‘Thank you.’ Ona looks despondently down at her hands, hating the way it didn’t look right without her wedding ring. So she reaches into the drawer on the nightstand and takes it out, sliding it onto her finger.
‘I didn’t tell her you guys were interested in having me back.’ She admits guiltily.
‘Ona…’
‘When she found out, she thought I wanted to leave her. That I didn’t want to be her wife anymore. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth.’ Ona brokenly mumbles, drawing her knees up to her chest.
‘Did you explain? Or apologise?’ Alexia softly asks.
Ona shakes her head in response, fiddling with the hem of the shirt she was wearing. It was your shirt and while she felt that she no longer had the right to wear it, she had missed you so much she couldn’t stop herself from wearing the old red Canada jersey of yours. It had your name on its back and she drops the hem in favour of wrapping her arms around herself.
Despite her best efforts and despite the smell of you on the well worn jersey, it was a poor substitution for your cuddles.
She takes in a deep breath, unsuccessfully trying to stop her eyes from filling with tears, ‘I didn’t get a chance to. She found out from social media and asked me straight up when I got home. I said yes and then she was gone. She left for camp right after.’
Her bottom lip wobbles and Ona starts to cry again, Mapi holding her tightly in an attempt to soothe her.
Alexia sighs, ‘Ona are you planning on moving back to Spain?’
‘I want to but only if she’s willing to come with me. Barca really wants me but I said I’d sign only if they were willing to offer her a spot too.’
‘Then you need to tell her that. It sounds like you two really need to talk Ona.’ Mapi advises.
‘I’ve tried. She hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts.’
Ona glances at her phone sorrowfully and Mapi hugs her a little tighter.
‘We play Canada next week Onita.’
Ona sighs, ‘You know I was really looking forward to that game but now it makes me sick just thinking about it.’
Alexia had been silent for a few minutes but now she speaks up, ‘Ona you need to go see her. It’s not that far a drive and for both of your sakes you need to fix it.’
******
That’s how Ona finds herself outside of your hotel room.
She’d asked the receptionist which room you were in, telling a half truth and saying she was your wife and here to surprise you.
She knocks anxiously and the door opens to reveal Jessie. The small Canadian’s expression quickly turns into one of anger and she gives Ona a small shove.
‘How could you? Do you have any idea how much pain you’ve put her through? She’s been crying non stop.’ Jessie snaps.
‘I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to, I swear.’ Ona stammers.
Your best friend, though shorter than Ona, could be terrifying when angry. And she had never been more furious in her life.
‘That doesn’t change a thing! How could you, Ona? You promised her a life together, an eternity and now you’re taking it back?’
‘I-’
‘Jessie that’s enough.’
You appear beside the Chelsea midfielder and Ona inhales sharply.
Her eyes dart down to your hand and she feels a bit of relief when she sees you still have your wedding ring on.
She’s so busy doing that, that she doesn’t notice you doing the same thing.
‘Can we talk mi amor?’ She whispers.
You hesitate and Ona’s usually bright eyes dim. She couldn’t blame you so she begins to turn away but you quietly say, ‘Okay.’
Jessie squeezes your hand but you give her a reassuring look and she leaves. Not before she gives Ona a fierce glare though.
‘Do you want to come in?’
Ona nods and you step aside so that she can enter.
Shutting the door, you turn around to see her looking a little lost.
‘You can sit on my bed you know? It won’t bite and neither will I.’
Ona laughs softly and you give her a tiny smile.
She sits down and you do too, a little way from her. Ona’s heart aches at that. Before she’d fucked things up, you would have curled into her side.
Taking in a deep breath to steady her nerves, she begins, ‘I’m sorry mi amor. I am so so sorry. I never wanted you to think that I regretted marrying you. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done. Having you as my wife? It’s like a thousand dreams come true at once.’
‘Then why?’ You whisper, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You felt so betrayed, so broken because of her. And yet she was the person who made you the happiest so despite the fact that your mind was screaming at you to get away from her, your heart made you stay and hear her out.
‘I didn’t mean to keep it a secret from you and I wasn’t intending on leaving you. I was just waiting for my agent to tell me if Barca was willing to accept my terms. My terms which are that I’m only going to consider signing if they offer you a place too.’
You stare at her uncertainly and Ona touches your hand carefully. It’s the first time she’s touched you since the morning before you’d grabbed your bags and left the shared apartment in Manchester, leaving her standing there in shock.
The last thing she had seen was the pain in your eyes as the quiet word she had given in answer broke your heart and the silence in the room.
‘Mi amor you are my wife, the love of my life. I’m never going anywhere without you. I’m sorry I ever made you think otherwise.’
Her voice is full of sincerity and you know she’s telling the truth.
‘You’ve been so sad and it’s all my fault…’ Ona murmurs, taking in your swollen eyes and exhausted state.
In answer, you shake your head, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain. I love you Ona, I should have heard you out.’
Ona sighs in relief, hearing those three words from your mouth. You close the gap between your bodies, leaning your head against her shoulder.
‘I love you. I love that you wore your ring out onto the pitch, you’ve never done that before.’ The Spanish girl touches your wedding ring, a simple silver band and you bury your face into her neck.
The sudden action causes Ona to gasp in surprise but she recovers quickly, a hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.
‘I needed a part of you on the field with me. Without your usual kiss or call, I didn’t think I could play because I felt so lost. I needed the ring to ground me. Ona I really thought you were tired of me and wanted to leave me.’
‘Baby never think that again. I want you, I need you. I’ll always need you and I am never leaving you. You understand? I can’t leave you, it’ll kill me to do that.’ She holds you tightly as you sob.
You cry out all the emotions of the past few days and Ona rocks you back and forth, sniffling as tears of her own spill down her cheeks.
‘I would never do that to you. I’m never going to tire of you and I promise there'll be no more secrets between us.’
‘You promise?’ You shakily ask and Ona kisses your forehead.
‘Sí. I promise.’ Ona says firmly and you finally allow yourself to truly melt into her, relaxing into her arms.
She holds you close and right before you fall asleep, you mumble, ‘If Barca gives me a place, I’ll go back to Spain with you. I know you’ve been missing it and I think I’d like to see those beaches you talk so much of.’
Ona smiles, kissing your forehead again as she makes another promise. That she’ll show you all her favourite beaches and take you to all the beaches you want.
Spanish Translations:
sí - yes
mi amor - my love
#ft. team moms mapi and alexia#canwnt reader#ona batlle x reader#ona batlle imagine#ona batlle#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#espwnt x reader#espwnt imagine#spain wnt x reader#spain wnt imagine#katelynnwrites#uswnt imagine#uswnt x reader
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I don’t know if this is a proper trope or anything but I would love to read your take on a matthew/leon normal person/still a hockey player au! or like, celebrity/still a hockey player au
i definitely think this is a proper trope! in general i'm not an alternate universe girlie, but i AM an alternate timeline girlie, so i love versions of this trope that are like, you know, the one thing that happened differently in someone's life that totally disrupted the course of their life, but then these two people are brought together by the universe anyway. this got a little long, i'm gonna put the rest under a cut, lol.
so with matthew/leon, because they both come from hockey families, it's not the hardest thing to invent scenarios where they wind up in each other's circles anyway. i wouldn't want to create whole new backgrounds for the non-hockey one, because i think they have both been so shaped by their backgrounds and their families. it's interesting to me to think about how the circumstances of their meeting dictates their relationship — if there's no rivalry, what is the draw? which isn't to say there isn't a draw, but you kind of have to come up with a new inherent conflict. i have said to many friends, and i stand by this, that i think if they were on the same side from the get-go they would've gotten along famously. but finding other ways to throw a wrench in the gears is fun! say the concept is, like, leon did soccer instead of hockey, still went pro, and for whatever reasons got banished to the deeply cringeworthy fate of playing MLS (sorry mls) (vamos united) — he's probably got a chip on his shoulder, and he probably wants to get back to the bundesliga, he probably does not even want to consider a long-term future with inter miami fc, which would make developing big feelings for the local hockey team's handsome rat man VERY inconvenient.
because i'm a sucker for angst and drama, my favorite version of this is when the non-hockey-player one originally did have big stanley cup dreams, but something happened to derail them, and so getting into a relationship with a hockey player means also confronting all those complicated feelings about loving someone who's living the life you wanted, and finding a new purpose for yourself. this would be fun either way for me — teen matthew's junior career was wrecked by an injury but he stays in the family business doing atheltic training, or agent stuff, or coaching or scounting or whatever, and that puts him into leon's orbit and sparks fly. (possibly acrimonious sparks, depending on what matthew's up to, lmao.) OR, teen leon's junior career was wrecked by an injury but going back home felt too much like giving up so he decided to stay in canada and go to university or something, lands himself a spot at a school in calgary, etc etc etc. i love a character who's a total sad sack and there's BIG sad sack potential in scenarios like this. <3
the most important thing to me, in fics like this, is that that even though one of them's not an nhl player, they're still the same person, character-wise. they've still got the pieces of that personality that led them to become an elite athlete, that intensity and drive and passion and swagger that in another life made them so successful and extremely annoying to play against. but how does that shape them in the non-nhl version of their life? does it make things harder for them, without that outlet?
anyway intermission is over so i need to go white-knuckle it through the rest of this hockey game. i know there's some fics of this trope in the matthew/leon tag already but imo there are INFINITE possibilities for this type of story so there can always be more!!
#ask#writing meme#hockey for ts#matthew and leon#inter miami fußball club#this game is so stressful because they are playing so badly but i want them to win so badly lmao#also i'm lowkey convinced that matthew broke his fucking hand again#and i'm concerned :(
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the season's already done for many teams - a lot of skaters are on break or not training full on right now
it's been an up and down season - IAMO had 10 teams at the start, now 3 of them have left or ended their partnerships, they added the Aussies and maybe one more mystery team, and we got a surprise return from Haley/Nik, so they're still maybe at 9-10 teams plus a few solo skaters looking for partners
Lily/Nathan were memorable - their RD and their original costumes were a little controversial, but we were talking about them, they stood out. and the FD is going to be a signature program for them. 4th at Nats means Team Canada next season 😭 first Grand Prix assignment🤞
very curious what direction they'll go with a new FD - they did Unchained Melody from Ghost in 2021-22, Hozier 2022-23 - a major key slow song and a minor key slow song, so i wonder if they'll switch it up. their strengths are their skating skills, their togetherness. they have a certain intensity as a team which potentially can really draw in an audience. her flexibility and extension have improved, he's come out of his shell performance-wise - hope they continue growing this way. they have a keen awareness of each other more than you see them relating to each other in their performance, maybe. they already go into the ice in a beautiful way, so it's a matter of growing in speed and power and developing consistency and sharpness. IAMO seems to prioritize gaining speed and power the right way - they don't do short cuts, and i'm sure it's much harder work to train for this and a longer process. but when it works, watch out - CPom are real role models for the success of this approach
Leia and Pietro also had good growth this season - they really pushed themselves and competed 9 times, 6 of those in Europe. i have a real soft spot for this team because they're so musical and because they have this hard to put your finger on *thing* - if they were visual artists, they'd have an eye, if they were musicians, they'd have a good ear - idk what you call that for dancers. but whatever genre they're skating, there's a sense of rightness and at their best, elegance to the choices they make. earlier on, they were making big mistakes but got more consistent as the season went on. it seems like power, speed and levels in the steps are the areas they need to improve to make a push. excited to see what they come up with for a FD for next season - the last 2 have been so beautiful
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''Donnie, this is Jarod, my … ex.”
uhhhhhhhhhhhh, just a quick something about a quick oneshot I wrote a couple months back. A sort of alternate universe of my Business AU (lmao, AU-ception). In that one mutants/animal humanoids are a thing, and I included a character of mine that I’ve had for MANY years, Jarod (a bat - Vampyrum Spectrum).
I might draw some scenes of that small fic ‘cause it meant a lot to me at that time, especially when I needed to let some things out.
Scene under cut, for those interested to read a snippet :)
(...)
As the duo was taking a break, the turtle left the woman's company to go fetch more beverages, leaving Vee to herself near large windows that were overlooking the city lighted up like a sea of stars.
And in that solitude, that's when she heard a voice she never expected to hear again...
''Véro?''
She froze as she noticed him.
Like a ghost from the past haunting her, she first thought it was her imagination playing tricks on her, but as she saw the dark grey bat move towards her, she knew it was too real to be an illusion.
Jarod, her ex, was now standing before her, dressed in an elegant fashion and as handsome as ever. The tall bat took some time to look the woman over, the ghost of a smile always on his lips as he couldn't believe the meeting himself...
''Green hair, … new tattoos, and a smokin' hot body as always. …Ay, dios, it's been a while,'' he said.
''What are you doing here?'' asked Vee, smiling although she was slightly confused by the whole situation.
''Came up from Florida with my dad and Aliana,'' answered Jarod. ''We had some business to look over in New York, then we heard about this soirée and thought it'd be a nice thing to come by. … I'm glad we did.'' He let out a quiet chuck, trying to make some sense of this situation: ''And what are you doing here? I had no idea you were in this city.... you never told me where you'd move in fact.''
Vee sighed briefly, trying to brush concerns away with a quick move of her hand: ''Long story short, I was supposed to head back to Canada, but seeing how the costs for moving back and all that jazz were somehow putting me in trouble, I simply moved to this state.''
''And New York city is less expensive than anywhere else?'' he added, amused. ''How are you able to survive around here? I'm guessing freelance work must be hard around here...''
''Actually, I'm now working for a company as a project manager for a creative team.''
''Which one?''
Vee didn't have time to answer as Donatello finally came in sight, drinks in his hands.
As he got next to the woman, he handed her a glass of red wine with a soft ''here'', Vee thanking him with a grateful smile.
''Looks like you found someone interesting to talk to,'' poked the turtle.
Vee was somehow a bit uncomfortable, but she still showed a sweet smile as she presented the males to eachother.
''Donnie, this is Jarod, my … ex. Jarod, this is Donatello, my boyfriend.''
Both men were slightly surprised, looking at eachother, trying to seize one another. Out of politeness, Donnie extended his hand as a greeting.
''Hi, nice to meet you.''
Jarod shook his hand, keeping his cool as he answered ''Likewise''. … Vee knew there must have been some turmoil in him right that moment.
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Tuesday, March 26, 2024 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)
WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?
THE TRUTH VS. ALEX JONES (HBO Canada) 9:00pm
NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:
AMAZON PRIME
TIG NOTARO: HELLO AGAIN
CBC GEM
MY PET ASSASSIN
SAVING THE ANIMALS OF UKRAINE
NETFLIX CANADA
DAVE ATTELL: HOT CROSS BUNS
MLB SPRING TRAINING (SN) 2:00pm: Red Sox vs. Rangers
NHL HOCKEY
(SN) 7:00pm: Bruins vs. Panthers
(TSN4) 7:00pm: Devils vs. Leafs
(SNWest/TSN3) 8:00pm: Oilers vs. Jets
(SN1) 8:30pm: Flames vs. Chicago
(TSN2) 9:00pm: Habs vs. Avalanche
BIG BROTHER CANADA (Global) 7:00pm
NBA BASKETBALL (SN Now) 7:30pm: Warriors vs. Heat
THIS HOUR HAS 22 MINUTES (CBC) 8:00pm
CANADA'S GOT TALENT (City TV) 8:00pm: You Belong Here…
MARY MAKES IT EASY (CTV Life) 8:00pm: Movie Night
SON OF A CRITCH (CBC) 8:30pm: When Mark finally gets the chance to take the stage as a stand-up comedian, he realizes he doesn't have his own distinct voice; Mark draws inspiration from those who matter the most to him.
COMFORT FOOD WITH SPENCER WATTS (CTV Life) 8:30pm: Any Day is Game Day
ONE MORE TIME (CBC) 9:00pm: When the team discovers they have a serial shoplifter, they set out to put an end to the thievery.
HUDSON & REX (City TV) 9:00pm: Charlie fears the worst after Rex goes missing while investigating the theft of a champion horse.
TREATY ROAD (APTN) 9:00pm: Erin becomes a mother and visits her homelands on Treaty 4 territory in Saskatchewan; she and Saxon walk through the remains of a residential school and learn about the push to honour the memory of children whose lives were lost at residential school.
GOLD RUSH: WHITE WATER (Discovery Canada) 9:00pm: Reeling from tragic news, Dustin and the miners fight to get a diver in the water earlier than ever before, and their determination is rewarded.
THE HAUNTED MUSEUM (DTour) 9:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): In desperate need of money to pay for her son's medical treatment, a single mother becomes a sex worker at a legal brothel; when a murderous ghost begins stalking her, she must unravel the mystery before she becomes the entity's next victim.
RUN THE BURBS (CBC) 9:30pm: Andrew's vasectomy plan strains his friendship with Hudson, while Camille and Khia clash over buying a car.
SLEEPING WITH A KILLER (Lifetime Canada) 10:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Where Is Kimberly? - Kimberly Greene-Medina, Colorado: The 1996 disappearance of Kimberly went unsolved until 2005, when her husband confessed to it after being arrested for the murder of his own son.
THE VALLEY (Slice) 10:15pm: Nia is angry about Jax pantsing her husband in front of the group; Jesse finds himself in hot water with Kristen and Luke over an inappropriate action; Jax's guy's night comes crashing down when he invites a surprise visitor who blindsides Luke.
ABSOLUTELY CANADIAN (CBC) 11:30pm: Reel shorts: Toronto (2023): Short films produced by students in television, film, media arts, animation and independent filmmakers from Toronto-GTA.
#cdntv#cancon#canadian tv#canadian tv listings#big brother canada#this hour has 22 minutes#canada's got talent#mary makes it easy#son of a critch#comfort food with spencer watts#one more time#hudson & rex#treaty road#run the burbs#absolutely canadian#mlb baseball#nhl hockey#nba basketball
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Atlantic Cup Swimming Championship brings economic boost for Saint John, N.B., businesses
The 2023 Atlantic Cup Swimming Championship took place at the Canada Games Aquatic Centre in Saint John, N.B., over the weekend.
The three-day swim meet saw 227 athletes jump into the province’s only 50-metre competition pool, hence why the event was hosted in the port city.
Sara McNabb of the Fredericton Aquanauts Swim Team had a great weekend coming into the final day of action, winning four gold medals in all four events she competed in heading into Sunday.
“I really like the competition,” McNabb says. “It’s really fun to compete against everyone, and I really like talking to all my friends from across the province I haven’t seen in a while. That’s probably my favourite part.”
Meet manager Michael MacDonald says the event is one of the higher-ranked competitions for the swimmers. It also served as the final competition of the season for many of the athletes, with a small handful using the meet to prepare for nationals.
“It gives them the chance to challenge themselves,” MacDonald says. “It also gives them the chance to meet with other swimmers from the province so there is a social aspect to it.”
Combine the 2023 Atlantic Cup Swimming Championship with the “Summerfest” youth basketball tournament that took place in Saint John over the weekend, and the “Roll Call Car Show” that took at TD Station on Saturday, local businesses saw quite the uptick in traffic this weekend.
“Business took off great this weekend,” says Saint John Ale House bartender Amit Marciano. “We got to see lots of new faces, faces we haven’t seen before, and local faces again stopping by for a drink or a nice bite to eat in between the tournaments, in between the games, before the car show, after the car show so it’s great.”
The sentiment is echoed by Britt’s Pub + Eatery assistant manager Chelsea Daley.
“The rain hasn’t stopped people from walking around uptown,” Daley says. “Going to the container village, popping into each of the restaurants, even if just for a beer at the bar, so it’s been great.”
MacDonald couldn’t put a number on it, but knows the economic boost local businesses saw over the past few days was large.
“You have 227 families essentially coming to the city for the weekend,” MacDonald says. “I think it does bring people to the city and it’s going to be nothing but good for small businesses.”
The weekend festivities served as somewhat of a precursor for what’s to come in the weekends ahead for local businesses. On July 28 and 29, the Box Car Country Music Festival comes to town, followed by the Area 506 Music Festival during the August long-weekend.
Both are expected to draw thousands to the city, and local establishments are ready and excited.
“It’s going to bring a lot of people to the city and we really need it,” says Daley. “Saint John is only getting busier and more fun with all the events happening.”
from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/58SAPln
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Verstappen says he never imagined winning 41 Grands Prix after equalling Sennas victory tally in Montreal
Max Verstappen has admitted that it is “something incredible” to draw level with Ayrton Senna on F1’s all-time victory list – his triumph in Sunday’s Canadian Grand Prix meaning the pair both have 41 wins to their names.
Verstappen led home Aston Martin’s Fernando Alonso and the Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton at the Montreal venue to match the late three-time world champion’s tally, while also securing a milestone 100th victory for his Red Bull team.
READ MORE: Verstappen hails ‘incredible’ milestone as he helps Red Bull hit a century of F1 wins
Reflecting on the historic moment, Verstappen said: “I mean, I hate to compare different generations. From my side, the only thing I can say is that when I was a little kid driving in go-karting, I was dreaming about being a Formula 1 driver and I would have never imagined to win 41 Grands Prix.
“Of course, to tie with Ayrton is something incredible. I’m proud of that, but of course, I hope it’s not stopping here, you know – I hope that we can keep on winning more races.”
Verstappen’s victory came on Father’s Day and the Dutchman also took a moment to pay tribute to his dad, Jos, who “invested all his time” to help him reach F1 – and set these records – after a Grand Prix career that included stints with the likes of Benetton, Tyrrell, Arrows and Minardi.
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2023 Canadian Grand Prix: Verstappen crosses the line to take his 41st F1 victory and equal Ayrton Senna’s tally
“He was preparing everything, go-karts, engines and then driving all the way to Italy with me, in between school, then back… So many stories we can share,” said Verstappen Junior of his early days in karting. “Sometimes we still talk about it when we are together – it’s crazy.
“I probably only will fully realise how much he has done to me once I get kids, then you start to understand this kind of relationship. But yeah, without him, I would not sit here today. He has taught me so much and prepared me so much from a very young age.
HIGHLIGHTS: Watch the action from a compelling Canadian GP as Verstappen seals his sixth win of the season
“Sometimes I thought, ‘Why does it need to be so serious straightaway?’, where you maybe want to play around a bit more and have fun, but he was working towards this goal. He had this goal set for me to first of all be better than him and then try to get to F1, and then I got to F1.
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Verstappen insisting he’s taking it ‘race by race’ despite making it six wins from eight in Canada
“We still call every day. Before the race I was talking to him about what we’re going to do with the strategy and stuff like that. He likes to know even when he’s not here and just like to have that kind of relationship with your dad… After go-karting, when you go into cars, it’s a bit less personal what was happening here.
HINCH'S HEROES: Who made Hinch's list after a fascinating weekend of racing in Canada?
“Sometimes you miss these kinds of go-karting times when you’re travelling together in a van all the way there. But yeah, to share these moments together, I think, is very special. Today was, of course, also Father’s Day, so I don’t need to buy him a present. I did this, so I think he’s happy!”
via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com
#F1#Verstappen says he ‘never imagined’ winning 41 Grands Prix after equalling Senna’s victory tally in Montreal#Formula 1
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Brin Marks - phaware® interview 419
My name is Brin Marks. I am currently residing in Alberta Canada. I was diagnosed with pulmonary arterial hypertension about three years ago. A few months prior to when everything happened, I had noticed that I was overly tired. I would get lightheaded and dizzy and my hearing would be muffled. I didn't think anything of it because I was diagnosed with severe asthma at the age of four, and I had allergy testing so I just thought it was my allergies and asthma at the time. I was in gym class one day. I was playing soccer. I remember running to the goalpost from the opposite team and everything had just gone black. My hearing was muffled. My gym teacher told me that I was out for five minutes. I was rushed to hospital, because when I collapsed I was also seizing. It was the local hospital initially, but they sent the test off to the Stollery Children's Hospital and I was admitted there and I had to do MRIs, a lot of blood work. Then they diagnosed me with pulmonary hypertension.
My mom was in the medical field, so she had heard about pulmonary hypertension. My grandma, my mom and my uncle were the ones who heard my diagnosis, who were there in the room with me. They were crying. Obviously, it was really sad. I was more so in a daze, I guess is the best way to put it, because you never think that this stuff is going to happen to you personally. I was just living my life and playing basketball, and then all of a sudden everything just flipped on me. The doctors were looking at me like I had eight heads because I wasn't saying anything.
It was an interesting experience, because I was being told I wouldn't be able to have children, I wouldn't be able to play basketball again. I had told them I can still have a baby through adoption. Surrogacy is a thing. I just can't carry children. You never think at the age that I was, you'd be hearing that kind of news, because I had my life planned out for what I wanted. I was in a daze and that lasted for a while.
It definitely had an impact on me socially. I still have social anxiety. It definitely had an impact on the friendships that I've had. I didn't have oxygen right from the get-go, but it was a few months after the fact that they put me on oxygen. Everybody in my gym class was there, so they had known. It just flew around the school. So, once I got oxygen, I stuck out like a sore thumb. It was the most awkward and embarrassing experience, because I wanted to fit in. I wanted to get along with people. It was very cliquey at that school, so everybody had their friend groups, and once I was on oxygen, everybody would just stare at me in the hallways. I still have a lot of social anxiety because of it. I've learned to be patient with myself though, because I deserve it. My body needs it. It was interesting to say the least.
I definitely used art as an outlet. I've always been into drawing ever since I was little and could hold a pen. Art was definitely one of my go-tos, especially my art class. My teacher was amazing. He was so funny. So, that was definitely one of the biggest things for me to distance myself from reality, get rid of my anxiety for a little bit. I also am very much into reading, and so that really helped me at the time as well as listening to music. I just tried to take advantage of all of my hobbies to distance myself from my new life, I guess you could say.
So me and my mom, we've always had a very close relationship, but since I was diagnosed with this, it has been a fun experience because her and I have been doing a lot of things for PHA Canada once we discovered them and their organization. We've definitely made the most of it. When it comes to my clinic days and I have to do my six-minute walk test, her and I always put Uptown Girl on and we blast it in the hallways while we walk for the six minutes, because she walks along with me. She's always there right by my side. She's my buddy. But definitely listening to Uptown Girl has been one of the best things that has made this whole experience feel better and made it more positive. So we've definitely been making the best of a bad situation, I guess you could say.
So, me and my mom, we have this little thing that we do, and it's called Collect the Wins. Every day, after my dad's done working and I'm done with work, because I work part-time, we sit down and we talk and we talk about all of the wins that we've had throughout the day. One might be that I wasn't as tired as I'd usually be. That would be one of our wins. That I wouldn't be tired while walking up the stairs to go get changed is another win. That is probably the best thing that I could give to other people, is collecting the wins, because having a positive outlook on life has definitely helped my journey because I feel like if I had a negative outlook, I wouldn't be where I am today. I definitely say to everybody collect the wins, even if it's a little win to everybody else, it still deserves to be celebrated. That is what has helped me. That is what has helped my mom. That is what has helped my dad throughout this whole experience.
Ever since this past February, I've been transitioned into adult care. It's definitely been a positive experience. I have the honor of having Dr. Jason Weatherald as my specialist. He has a lot of brains for sure, which is really comforting, because if I have any questions, he's just straightforward and he answers them. It was definitely different because in pediatrics, they usually talk to the parents since I was a minor at the time, so it wasn't necessarily like they were talking to me about the treatments that I was going to be getting. That was one of my struggles, because I wanted to be talked to just so that I was in the know.
Ever since transitioning, it's been awesome because obviously he talks to me now, directly to me, and I get to make the decisions on what I want for my care moving forward from this point on. It's been one of the greatest things I could ask for throughout this whole thing is having Dr. Weatherald as my specialist. He is honestly, incredible. People aren't lying when they're talking about him. He's incredible. It's been one of the highlights, I'd say, of this whole journey.
One thing I will say is that it was very exciting once me and my mom became ambassadors for PHA Canada. My mom and I had been doing fundraisers through the Stollery and for PHA Canada. Even before we were ambassadors, we would be a part of the Zoom meetings that they put on just because we wanted to be a part of the PH community. When I was diagnosed, it was a very lonely thing because we didn't know that there were other people here in Canada who had PH because it sounded like the most rare disease that's out there.
We had done a lot of fundraising, been involved a lot with putting on little events for the kids in pediatrics just through Zoom meetings, because of COVID and everything. My mom had actually become an ambassador before I did. They had asked her through a meeting that they had, and obviously she accepted. Then, not too long after, they had a meeting with me and asked me some questions about why I wanted to be an ambassador, what that would mean for me to be an ambassador. They finally told me that I would represent PHA Canada. I was so excited that day I was jumping up and down. It was insane.
Definitely, from this point moving forward, I want to be a sound voice for all of the kids who can't stand up for themselves necessarily, or can't voice what they would like when it comes to their medical care. Even though I was a teenager when I was diagnosed, I know for me that it was definitely hard advocating for myself, and my mom was the one who would talk for me because I was too nervous to. I want to be that voice for kids specifically, since that's where I started, and just stand up for them and give them a voice and make them feel like there's hope for living a fulfilling life with PH. Even though it looks different, you can still accomplish the things that you want to. It's just not necessarily the route that you'd want to take.
That is my goal throughout this whole thing is just giving people hope and be a good support system for other people. My mom, she's been making a lot of changes, especially within the government because now we have funding for oxygen, which is incredible. Things like that is something I want to be a part of because when I was a kid, I always told my mom, "I want to change the world," and so I'm hoping that this is my way that I can do that for other people.
My name is Brin Marks, and I'm aware that I'm rare.
Learn more about pulmonary hypertension trials at www.phaware.global/clinicaltrials. Follow us on social @phaware Engage for a cure: www.phaware.global/donate #phaware
Share your story: [email protected]
Listen and View more on the official phaware™ podcast site
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Agata M-O. Undergraduate Student (Nutrition and Food Science with a Specialization in Dietetics)
Agata Martin (she/her) is a fifth-year student completing a Degree in Nutrition and Food Science with a Specialization in Dietetics. She has completed CSL placements through CSL 100: Introduction to Community Service-learning, ALES 204: Communication Fundamentals for Professionals, AREC 173: The Plate, the Planet and Society, and NUTR 477: Advanced Population and Public Health Nutrition.
Can you trace your involvement with CSL?
Two years ago, I took a class called ALES 204: Communication Fundamentals for Professionals, which had a CSL component that I didn't know about at the time. We worked with nonprofits and tried to help them create marketing material. For example, we worked with this company called Humanserve International and helped them redesign their website. It was cool to help because it felt like what we were doing was going towards something real and tangible.
I also did CSL 100, where I worked with a program called Grocery Run. It's the Multicultural Health Brokers grocery run program. They are an organization that works with many newly arrived immigrants to Canada, helping them settle in and connecting them with resources they might not have known about.
Why did you decide to take your first CSL course?
When I got into the dietetics program, I had room in my schedule to take extra classes. So instead of just taking random classes, I decided I would work towards a certificate, and partly why I chose to do CSL was because it overlapped nicely with the classes I could take.
Why did you decide to take the certificate?
Right now, I'm in dietetics, and I eventually want to work in the community as a dietitian. I think these experiences I'm having directly within the community will be relevant when I leave my program and work in the real world. Many of the volunteer opportunities I've chosen have been able to relate to my degree in some way, whether they're food-related or nutrition related. I think what I've learned throughout the course of these CSL embedded classes so far is that there's a lot of work that needs to be done, especially around food, justice, food insecurity, and making sure that the people that we're helping, aren’t treated like just a charity case.These are usually people who found themselves in a bad situation.
For example, employers may not want to hire immigrants because there's a language barrier, and because their qualifications and credentials might not transfer over. This contributes to not being able to find their basic needs, such as food insecurity, housing, etc. And I think personally, as a dietitian, I can help ensure that the nutrition options/food options out there can meet their needs because part of food dignity and food security is having something healthy and nutritious, and culturally relevant.
What was/ is your favourite placement, and why?
Hands down, the one I did this last semester, which is the Grocery Run Program, was my favourite placement. The atmosphere immediately embraced going in and talking to my team and the people there, and ultimately it was an eye-opening experience. In my previous placements, I didn't get direct contact with people helping out and other volunteers within the program. So I found it more real because we had the opportunity to talk to others and form a connection, friendships, and bonds, which draws you back to work wherever you are, whether in a workplace or a volunteer organization.
I found it relevant to what I was studying; therefore, I could take away a lot more in terms of just what I was learning from them.
Overall, I could tell everybody we talked to wasn't there for selfish reasons, or to just get something on their application. Instead, they were all there because they genuinely cared about the people and the program. It's hard to find people who are that selfless and caring, and I'm thankful to have gotten the opportunity to meet such inspirational people because I could see they cared about what they were doing.
Did CSL change your ways of thinking about certain things, and how?
When taking CSL, it made me think about the privilege that I wield as somebody who comes from a more affluent background and the education that I was able to receive because of my parent's successes. It just made me realize that it's not the case for many children from immigrants; as I've mentioned before, it made me realize that I am very privileged. I also learned a lot about how volunteering can negatively impact the community. And that was a perspective that I'd never really considered before.
I learned about food waste, as it's something that's not heavily discussed in my program, which is surprising for a Nutrition Dietetics program. So it changed my way of how food is sustainable and how it works, and how it can be incorporated into nonprofit organizations that provide food hampers. I learned much about what it means to be food secure and have justice when handling food. So I paid attention and took those things away because that's what my whole career will be focused on when I graduate.
What was the most important and memorable lesson you learned?Many students who go to university are very privileged, and I don't think they realize that. I think programs such as CSL should be more at the forefront of opportunities that are open to people because I think it's a unique way for students to learn more about things that interest them, that's not so capitalistic. I have a ton of privilege, and the fact that I could give back even a little bit was very memorable. However, that doesn't even make up for what I get and what people don't have.
Did CSL expose you to new experiences and knowledge?
I believe looking more into food insecurity, and food justice has impacted my outlook on my personal and academic life. I found that through my placements, I've learnt more compared to my program, and I guess it's not part of the curriculum, and perhaps we don't have time for it, but I'm thankful that these placements allowed me to learn something new.
I wish CSL was more embedded in our curriculum because I think it's something tremendously valuable, especially going into more depth about food backgrounds. For students who don't work in the community, it can be more of a shell shock for them when they go into their placements and when they go into their jobs because they haven't had these opportunities to work in the community. So learning more about what people need from the people you're trying to help is something I wouldn't have understood if I didn't take CSL.
How has CSL impacted your academic and or your personal life?
My experience with CSL has made me realize that I want to work in the community. So taking these experiences and knowledge I've had throughout CSL can allow me to give a unique perspective in my life to those less fortunate. This is how I think it's impacted my academics; it's made me switch gears because before, I was leaning more towards sports nutrition, but after working with CSL, I think there's a lot that I could do within the community. So with the experiences I've been able to get through this program, I think it will be a lot more beneficial to those who need the help and myself as well.
In thinking about how CSL impacted me personally, I suppose it is being able to understand different perspectives and be more empathetic. For example, it made me consider my parents' perspectives when they came to Canada. I never really thought about my parents or what they go through because, as kids, we can be selfish and I didn't give much thought about what they had to deal with coming into a foreign country. However, working with newcomers, it did hit home because it made me realize that my parents could have been in these situations. So I think it's changed how I view my parents and what they went through when they came to Canada, the struggles they probably went through trying to learn English and access to foods they were comfortable eating.
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Has anyone said “38. That ass is highly unprofessional” for Reds yet? Because I feel like the comedy potential is enormous
38. “That ass is highly unprofessional.”
There are far too many good scenarios for this excellent prompt and idk if I picked the best one, but an effort was made. 🤡
Send me a prompt and some characters! Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we're getting creative here.
List of prompts
xxx
Blossom watched from across the room as Brick fist-bumped the head delegate from the China team. He’d been cagey and weirdly subdued all morning, but the moment the unmoderated caucus began, he slinked away without anyone noticing. Anyone, that is, except Blossom.
“Russia? You were saying?”
Blossom snapped the pencil she’d been holding between her fingers. Denmark leaned back and slowly pulled the cup full of fresh pencils out of her reach. “What? Oh, right. I’m proposing we form a sub-committee to begin formal negotiations.”
“No way, we don’t negotiate with terrorists,” said Canada. “Terrestrial or otherwise.”
The United States stood up and palmed his fist. “Agreed. I say we nuke ‘em before they can nuke us.”
“Oh, sure, great idea, Rambo. This is Model UN, not Independence Day.”
“Wow, super in-character of you, Switzerland. Why are you even here?”
Blossom put up her hand. “We have no idea if the aliens are terrorists. I agree that we can’t discount the possibility of hostile intent, but violence should not be our opening move.”
“Crisis update!” A staffer handed Canada a red envelope, which she read aloud to the gathered students-cum-delegates. The aliens had parked one of their space ships on the Xi’an city wall, destroying a huge chunk of it and killing some civilians, and China was using it as justification to attack with full force.
“Oh my god, I think we might actually be in Independence Day,” Canada said.
“Recess! I’m calling for a recess.” Blossom left the table as the United States, Canada, and a gaggle of European Union countries began to squabble.
She found Brick talking to Israel and Argentina. The minute he saw her coming, he excused himself from the conversation and walked the other way.
“Brick! I know you saw me.” Blossom followed him to the all-gender restrooms, where he was fixing his hair in the mirror. “What are you doing?”
“About to take a gratuitous shit. You might want to get out of here.”
She grabbed his elbow and spun him toward her. “I’m talking about your side conversations. What were you doing talking to China without me?”
“Russia’s a big country, and you looked busy doing your thing. I’m just doing mine.”
“And what, exactly, is your thing?” She peered at him. “I swear to god, if that KGB comment this morning wasn’t a joke and I find out you’ve been threatening the other delegates behind my back—”
“Relax, comrade,” he patted her shoulder, “before you pop a seam in your pencil skirt.”
Blossom could not help but check out her ass in the mirror now that he’d brought it up. Of course, he was also checking out her ass, because he was an uncouth jerk who knew exactly how to get under her skin, and now Blossom was at an impasse. If she told him off, she’d be giving him exactly what he wanted, which was to make her snap and froth. If she did nothing, he’d still win with the knowledge that he’d pissed her off and gotten the last word in to boot.
Much like with terrorists, when it came to dealing with teenage boys, negotiation was not an option; the only solution was total annihilation.
Blossom placed a hand on her hip and stuck her ass out more as she examined herself in the mirror. “You mean, this pencil skirt?”
Brick’s smile fell in defeat like so many doomed German aggressors marching into the heart of Russian winter. “Obviously.”
Perish, you fool.
“Did you see a loose thread somewhere around here?” She turned slightly and ran her finger along the side seam of her skirt in an unbridled act of hormonal militarism. “Or was it on this side?”
Brick rested his weight on the counter because he was weak and cornered and they both knew it.
“No?” She smiled. “Just your imagination, then. We better get back to the conference.”
She made it halfway to the door when Brick hauled his wounded carcass away from the sink counter and desperately fired back with: “Disgraceful tactics, honestly.”
“Me? I’m not the one committing treason and encouraging intergalactic warfare.”
“Hey, I signed up for global warming and nuclear proliferation, not this made up Men in Black bullshit. If aliens attacked we’d just blast them ourselves, no negotiation necessary, we can all go home.”
“Oh my god, so you admit you intentionally sabotaged the exercise! I knew it. You are highly unprofessional.”
“That ass is highly unprofessional!”
“Stop thinking about my ass!”
“I literally fucking cannot after that!”
Blossom fumed. “Are you saying I’m asking for it?”
“I’m saying how dare you expect me not to think about how good your ass looks in that skirt!”
“Oh, so it’s my fault, is it? Well, I’m so sorry for looking amazing in Western business professional!”
“Apology accepted!”
“Good!”
“Great!”
“Fantastic!”
“Wonderful!”
“Incredible!”
“Superb!”
“Glorious!”
“Brilliant!"
Blossom had at least fifteen more increasingly positive synonyms that she could have screamed at Brick, but Denmark popped his head in just as she was getting ready to shout stupendous at top volume.
“Um, hi. We’re taking a vote on what to do about the aliens and we need Russia’s vote, so…yeah.”
The vote was close and also meaningless, since China and several allies acted on their own against the aliens, who of course retaliated and gave the United States carte blanche to bust out the big guns. By the end of the conference, half the world’s population had been eradicated by nuclear weapons or alien technology. It was a complete and total disaster, and Blossom had no idea how she was going to explain it to her Model UN club coach when she got back to Townsville.
“Told you we should have just fought the aliens ourselves,” Brick said as they packed up their things for the flight back home.
“Please stop talking. It makes it harder for me to pretend you don’t exist.”
“Still wearing the skirt, I see.”
Blossom threw her water bottle at him, which was both very childish and very unsatisfying when he caught it. “I’m going to wear pencil skirts every day for the rest of the semester just for you.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
“I dare.”
“I’ll drop out.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I’ll check out your ass every day.”
“Go ahead.”
“I will.”
“Great, because I want you to.”
“Great, because I want to!”
“I’m going to look so good!”
“I completely agree!”
They stormed out of the conference center together.
“See you on Monday,” Blossom said in her best die in a trash heap voice.
“You better wear a skirt,” Brick said as if he’d just invited her to jump into an active volcano.
“I absolutely will.”
“I can’t wait.”
Blossom swallowed a scream and took off flying, knowing she’d be there all day if he didn’t get the last word in.
xxx
“Dude, are you okay? You’ve been aggressively staring at Blossom’s ass all morning.”
Brick sucked on his straw loud enough to draw Blossom’s annoyed glance. “Fuck off, Harry.”
“Are you, like, into her?”
She turned her back to him and power posed with her hands on her hips, which was an extremely flattering angle and a high-key bitch move. “I despise her.”
Harry smiled. “Oh, cool! Cool cool cool… Hey, so I was wondering who I should ask to Homecoming—”
“No.”
“But I just thought since you don’t—”
“No.”
Harry finally fucked off.
xxx
If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!
#powerpuff girls#powerpuff girls fanfic#blossick#ppg reds#ppg blossom#ppg brick#september fic prompts
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History Repeats Itself- B. Boeser
a/n: This somehow ended up being around 11k words, so I hope y’all enjoy it! Also, I only did a quick scan for grammar and spelling so sorry if there are errors!
summary: You and Brock met once back in college when you were still committed to your high school boyfriend. Years later you’re single and older and just starting a new job in Vancouver. The only question now is whether or not you will take the opportunity to rewrite your own history.
warnings: None that I can think of
“So, are you in or no?” Y/N’s roommate asks her as they walk out of the library and toward their dorm.
“I don’t think so Mags, I actually have some studying to catch up on.” You reply unconvincingly. Midterms of your first semester at the University of North Dakota just came to a close, and your excuse of having homework on a Friday night wasn’t convincing anyone.
“Y/N, seriously? You aced all of your midterms and we just spent three hours in the fucking library! Live a little! The hockey team is having a huge party, and the guys are really fun AND super hot! You deserve this!” Maggie tries to convince you to come out to a party that the UND Hockey team is having tonight, and you tell yourself not to give in.
“Maggie, I have a boyfriend. And you know they don’t let guys who aren’t on the team into their parties. God, it’s basically a frat.” You scoff at the idea of a frat party, but there’s still a small part of you that wants to experience the chaos of a real college party. That’s probably why it ends up being so easy for Maggie to convince you to slip into a pair of skinny jeans and a cute top before embarking on a night out.
“Y/N, this is Nick and Brock. They’re both in my econ class. Nick is a sophomore, but Brock here is a freshman like us!” Maggie happily introduces you to the two tall boys as you enter an old musty house, full to the brim with college kids. The air smells like stale alcohol and you take note that your shoes are somehow already sticky. You’re not sure if it’s from something you stepped in or if it’s just the floor in general.
“Hey, nice to meet you.” You shake Brock’s hand that he’s extended for you and you can’t help but stare a little too long, taking in his blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes.
You had to admit though, Katie was right, these guys are super hot. You can already tell your roommate has her eye on this Nick guy, and it actually looks like he might be interested in her too. He’s just her type— He’s hot and he knows it, and his dark hair and striking features draw the eyes of nearly every girl in the room. The blonde boy who stands across from you is quite honestly the opposite of Nick. Brock is also undeniably good-looking, but he’s shy and his light hair and soft smile make him seem less intimidating than his friend.
Nick finds you and Katie some drinks and some other girls you’ve become friends with show up to the party a little later. The boys come and go as they mingle with other people and their teammates, but Nick tends to stay close by to Maggie and you catch glimpses of Brock occasionally. Apparently his shyness doesn’t apply to his teammates. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch him and his friends dance together to some shitty remix of a song you used to blast on your way to school. You’re actually having a great time, but you can’t hear your phone ringing over the music that’s blaring through the house you’re in. Later, Nick offers to walk you and Maggie home after a few hours of living like a real college kid, and Brock ends up tagging along since he apparently lives in the same building.
“So, how come we haven’t met you before tonight? This one talks about you all the time.” The four of you are walking across campus and Nick has Maggie under his arm as he asks why you never seem to be with your roommate.
“She has a boyfriend. And I’m pretty sure he’s allergic to having fun.” Maggie quips as some of the alcohol she’s consumed tonight gives her the courage to openly criticize your relationship.
“Maggie.” You say in a warning tone. “He’s just not a big partier, and usually I’m not either.” You shove at her shoulder lightly. Maggie was nice and you liked being her roommate, but when you first met and told her you had followed your high school boyfriend across the country to attend a university in “North fucking Dakota” she immediately expressed how crazy she thought you were. In her eyes there was no way that a couple who started dating when they were fifteen would last forever. You disagreed, which is why you turned down your scholarship to an ivy league and followed your boyfriend to North Fucking Dakota. His family was from North Dakota, and for some reason everyone in their family had to go to school there too. At the time, you didn’t see it as giving something up, you saw it as you and your boyfriend starting a life together outside the confines of your hometown.
“So, what floor do you live on, Brock?” Maggie asks as the four of you make your way up to your building.
“I’m on 4— Room 405. What about you guys?” Brock asks back.
“We’re 219.” You say back before you’re startled as you hear another voice you’re not exactly expecting.
“Y/N! Where the hell have you been?” The group you’re with is almost to the doors of your dorm building when a perturbed voice yells for you.
“Uh- Owen. What are you doing here?” You’re surprised to see your boyfriend standing in front of you, looking like he’s seeing red. You weren’t even supposed to be seeing him at all tonight. He had told you he was going to be occupied for the evening while he was studying for his physics exam. You hadn’t told him you were going to the party, but at the time you didn’t think it was important. Owen preferred that you didn’t bother him while he was studying, so you decided against calling him before your night out.
“I’ve been calling you for like two hours— God have you been drinking?” The rest of the group you were with tonight looks uncomfortable to say the least, and you can’t blame them. Owen wasn’t the best at saving face, especially when he felt like someone hadn’t upheld the standards that he had set out for them. Now he just looked like a dad reprimanding their child, and a wave of embarrassment quickly washed over you.
“I just- We went to a party. I didn’t think you’d mind. You were supposed to be studying all night,” You say sheepishly, as you begin to regret letting Maggie convince you to go out. Before Owen can clap back again, Maggie nudges you and tells you that the three of them are going to go, not wanting to invade on your private life any longer.
When they’re gone, Owen starts again, “This just isn’t like you. I’m so disappointed.” You feel bad now, you know you haven’t done anything wrong, but Owen’s words make you feel like you have, so you tuck your tail between your legs as follow him back to his dorm and apologize for what you did.
That was almost five years ago. You dated Owen for longer than you’d like to admit but eventually you removed your rose-colored glasses and broke up with him. You graduated from UND and got a second chance at your Ivy League dreams when went to graduate school. Now, you’ve completed your masters and have been offered a promotion at you job. The only catch was that the new position required you to move to the west coast… of Canada.
You moved almost two months ago, and your raise was enough to allow you to move into a nice building downtown. Work takes up most of your time now, so you haven’t been able to explore the city as much as you would like, but you can already tell your decision to make Vancouver your new home was a good one. The laid back and easy feeling you get from this city is completely different from the big east coast metropolis you had been living in before, and even though you’re working more than ever, you feel like you can actually breathe here.
Since your breakup with Owen your senior year at UND, you’ve taken time to take back your life. You try your best not to ponder on the past anymore, and you focus on your own future. It can’t be denied that at first it was hard not to remain bitter at the idea that you had so willingly given up many things in your life, for a boy who took them too eagerly. You worked through it though and took back your life by focusing on your own goals and working on furthering your own career. The past is the past now, and you were ready to start this new life in Vancouver.
*
“I actually can’t believe you’re wearing that.” Elias mocks at Brock as they step out of the elevator and into the lobby of Brock’s apartment building. Brock is sporting a bucket hat, and even though he knows Elias is joking, he wonders if he shouldn’t have just left the hat sitting on his kitchen counter. The two of them are bickering back and forth about their fashion choices, and Brock almost misses you as you walk past him. Almost. He recognizes you immediately even though your hair is longer, and your face doesn’t look so much like a kid’s anymore.
“Hey, nice to meet you.” Brock extends his hand, hoping he doesn’t seem too nervous to the pretty girl he has just been introduced to. He’s a freshman, and a star on the UND hockey team, which kind of makes him North Dakotan royalty. Since starting college, he’s learned what to say and how to say it, to get a girl’s attention, but he’s not the overly confident guy that his friend, Nick is. Nick lays it on thick and loves the attention he gets. Brock likes it, it’s fun, but he’s more laid back, and not as worried about getting the girl. He just likes to have a good time with his friends and doesn’t really need all of the extra attention.
He would however like to have your attention. He makes some friendly conversation with you over the course of the night, but you stick close to your girlfriends, and he can’t tell if you’re not interested or if you just aren’t catching what he’s putting down.
Later that night, when Nick tells Brock that he is going to walk you and your roommate home, he’s quick to tag along. Even though he lives in the same building, he probably would have stayed at the party a little longer if you hadn’t been going with them. On the walk across campus, the four of you make some small talk, and Brock knows that Nick definitely thinks he’s getting laid tonight.
Brock can’t help but hope that Nick getting laid will mean you will need a hideout for a couple hours while your roommate occupies your shared room. Even though he’d happily accept it, he doesn’t think he’ll be getting laid. Brock just hopes that he’ll have some time to get to know you a little bit better, maybe get your number, and then eventually ask you out. It’s right then that Nick asks why they’ve never met you.
“She has a boyfriend. And I’m pretty sure he’s allergic to having fun.” Maggie replies, and Brock can’t help but be disappointed. You had a boyfriend. So it wasn’t that you weren’t interested, well it was, but it was only because you were already taken. Maybe you had even caught on to his light flirting, and he can’t help but think how embarrassing that is.
This embarrassment honestly wasn’t as bad as what was to come next. Brock isn’t sure if his secondhand embarrassment is worse than the embarrassment that you’re probably feeling as the guy, who is presumably your boyfriend, yells at you for going to a party. He can tell that you’re trying to play it cool, you’re definitely uncomfortable with scene that is unfolding. Brock isn’t sure what to do, and him and Nick exchange a few quick glances as to say, “what the fuck?” And next, he’s incredibly thankful that Maggie steps in to tell you that they’re going to head into the building.
“What the fuck was that?” Nick asks as the three of them get out of earshot from you and Owen.
“Meet Owen, the illustrious high school boyfriend.” Maggie’s sarcasm is clear, and Brock is surprised that someone who seems so sweet could be dating a guy like that.
That hockey party his first semester at UND was the last time Brock spoke to you. He left after his sophomore year when he signed with the Canucks and before he left, when he would see you on campus, you were usually with the jerk he only briefly encountered that first night. When you would pass him in the hallway of your dorm or even around campus you would usually avoid meeting his eye or offer one of those awkward tight-lipped smiles. Brock would always smile back, and he would wonder if you were actually happy with that guy, and occasionally he would tell himself that he could make you happier.
You felt bad as you essentially avoided him for the first few weeks after that party, but it got easier as time went on. The two of you barely knew each other, but for some reason every time that you did pass him, you were still enamored by his kind eyes and generous smile that only made you feel worse for avoiding him. Over time your friends, like Maggie, would eventually fall to the waste side too as your boyfriend continued to control your life. Maggie stopped asking you to hang out and when you moved in with Owen after your freshman year, you basically lost all connection with her. Everyone probably thought that you were a massive bitch because they perceived your actions as you choosing your boyfriend over them. They weren’t wrong, but you didn’t know at the time, that your priorities were extremely misguided.
Brock’s little crush was soon forgotten when he dove headfirst into the NHL. He was busy trying to establish himself in the league, and he found himself in a few lackluster relationships that usually ended in a mutual agreement that it just wasn’t working. He was a good guy, and even though he wasn’t a saint, he preferred to get to know a girl and take her to dinner before anything else. The girls he dated usually fell pretty hard for him. He’s unmistakably attractive and his endearing personality make him incredibly charming. They knew that they couldn’t hold on to him forever and that he didn’t want to hurt them, so they let him go and hoped that they would find another guy that was half as good.
Seeing you now is like a breath of fresh air for Brock; his little crush immediately rising to the surface after being buried away for so long.
“Y/N?” Brock lightly touches you on your arm to get your attention. You’re lost in the email you’re replying to on your phone, and you’re more than surprised when you turn to see the same light blue eyes that you met your freshman year of college.
“Brock?” It’s the only thing that your brain can formulate right now. Brock Boeser is probably the only person you know in Vancouver and yet he’s standing in front of you right now. You haven’t seen or spoken to him in years, and you can’t believe that he even remembers you.
“Hey, I thought that was you.” Brock says, as Elias notices the big smile that’s plastered across his friend’s face. “What are you doing in Vancouver?” Brock asks, wondering how a girl from the east coast who went to school in North Dakota, somehow ended up in Vancouver.
“I um- I live here. I just moved for my job a couple months ago,” You tell him.
“Oh, no way! Vancouver’s great, I’m sure you’ll love it here.” He replies, still taking in the fact that you’re standing in front of him.
“Yeah, I like it so far,” you say. “Do you live here? – Or I guess, in the building?” You ask. You know that he lives in Vancouver, you’re aware of his hockey career, but you’ve lived here for a couple months and have never seen him around.
“Yeah, I’ve been back in Minnesota for most of the summer, so I just got back a couple days ago.” He tells you. You never really put much thought into where athletes go after their season ends, but it makes sense that they would go back to wherever they call home.
Elias nudges Brock to remind him that he’s still standing awkwardly beside him. “Oh, this is Petey,” Brock turns to introduce you to his friend that you already recognize, “It’s Elias, nice to meet you.” Elias says as he offers his hand to you.
“Yeah, I know.” You let out a light laugh and think about all of the Vancouver Canucks posters you’ve seen him on throughout the city. You’ve seen posters of Brock too, but you barely even know the guy, so it’s never really struck you as anything out of the ordinary.
“Are you a Canucks fan?” Elias asks.
You laugh a little, “Oh, no. I don’t follow hockey or really any sports, but everyone at work does, so I’ve been trying to learn a bit about it to keep up with the water cooler conversations.” You laugh again because it’s true. You’ve never really been tuned into sports, but your new office is basically all men, and they’re all huge Canucks fans, so your google searches of the team’s stats and roster have helped you become familiar with the team before their season starts.
“Well, you’ll have to come to a game some time.” Brock tells you.
“Um yeah. Maybe.” You offer back, mentally debating on if that would ever actually happen, but knowing that he’s only being polite. “I um- I’ve actually got to go, but it was great running into you.” You smile, and say goodbye to the two blonde boys and make your way up to your apartment.
Brock Boeser lives in your building. Again. You laugh, thinking about how funny it is that history is repeating itself. He’s just as cute as he was the first time you met, but the truth is you barely know each other, and you’re sure he remembers that you were probably a massive bitch in college who avoided him at all costs. You don’t let the thought of him linger too long and push it to the side to get on the realities of your life instead of continuing to mull over the past.
*
Over the next month or so, you continue to run into Brock in the elevator or in the lobby of your building. He always says hi and greets you with the same sweet smile. You make polite conversation and he’s so charming sometimes that it makes you blush. It starts off with awkward hellos and goodbyes, then you start to make small talk, and soon enough conversation between the two of you becomes pretty effortless. His little jokes are usually so dumb, but they make you laugh and you truly appreciate that he’s always so nice. You start to open up a bit more and aren’t as hesitant when he asks you innocent questions about your life.
You got to meet Coolie and Milo the other day, and Brock says that they are particularly fond of you. They both seem to be the sweetest dogs in the world, so you’re sure they’re just as good for everyone else. You see them ever so often when Brock takes them on walks around town, and he loves the way your eyes light up when you see his furry kids.
Brock usually asks you how work is going, even though your advanced corporate job goes way over his head, and you ask him about hockey, which you also have little to no knowledge of. You both usually give short and uninteresting answers like “great” or “it’s going.” Then, just as Brock is trying to find more ways to get to know you, you tell him that you’ve been trying to educate yourself more on hockey. You explain that you primarily work with men, and these men happen to be very keyed in on the sport and particularly on the Vancouver Canucks. Now, every time he sees you, he asks you what you’ve learned.
Your conversations are still fairly short, but you tell him when you’ve finally learned all of the NHL team names, and understand each of the hockey positions. You explain some of the penalties and you’re pretty proud of yourself when your explanation of offsides gets an approval. When he asks you who you’ve decided your favorite player is, you tell him you like “that Boeser kid,” but not as much as you like Elias Pettersson. This gets a big laugh from him, and he tells you he doesn’t disagree with your analysis. This is a turning point for the two of you. Brock can tell that you’re becoming more comfortable with him, and he likes seeing this lighter side of you.
One day when you pass him in the parking lot, he’s on his way to a game, dressed in suit, but with a beanie on his head. You’ve seen him like this a number of times before, and you really don’t understand why he insists on covering up his beautiful hair with various hats. You also don’t mind admiring how good he looks in his game day apparel. He’s good looking, and it’s not a crime to admire that.
As you walk toward each other in the parking lot he calls out to you, “Hey, you learn anything new this week?” You laugh, because he usually starts the conversation like this, asking if you’ve studied up or done your homework.
“Actually, I have a question for you.” You tell him as you come up, stopping before you would pass each other.
“Okay, shoot.” He says.
“Well, that’s actually your job, but my question has to do with goalie interference. I just don’t really understand it. I was trying to find videos of calls during games, but all of the calls seem kind of inconsistent.” You tell him, and he laughs at your shooting joke, leaving you feeling proud for a moment. He’s also laughing because you’re right. No one fucking knows what goalie interference is.
“Yeah, I’m not even sure what goalie interference is half the time. But if you figure it out let me know!” He answers. You laugh, and the two of you begin to part ways.
Before he makes it to his car you shout back, “Oh, Good luck tonight!”
He smiles and thanks you before opening his car door and on his way to the rink he thinks about all of the little conversations the two of you have had over the course of last couple of months. His crush has only continued to grow, and Elias keeps nagging him to ask you out, but he’s not even sure if you’re single. With his luck, you’re probably married to that asshole from college, although he hasn’t noticed you with anyone and he hasn’t seen a ring on your finger.
After that night Brock decided he needed to figure out if you were single or not, so that he could move on from his infatuation with you instead of wasting his time pining over a girl who was already taken. You’re always polite, and more recently you’ve become more and more comfortable joking and bantering with him, but sometimes you give him a look like you’re not sure what to say.
That look is the look you get when you contemplate how you got here. Years ago, you couldn’t have fathomed having a simple conversation with Brock, but now you see him on a regular basis and make conversation like you’ve been friends for years. You appreciate his willingness to talk with you, and you enjoy your interactions more and more every day.
Brock knows that on Sunday morning you usually go for a walk down to the coffee shop on the corner, so today he grabs Coolie and Milo and heads for the door, hoping he’ll be lucky enough to run into you. He makes it all the way to the coffee shop without seeing you and he’s praying that when he opens the door to the store that you’ll be waiting inside.
No such luck.
When he doesn’t see you standing inside, he decides he should at least buy a coffee instead of awkwardly walking out. After he picks up his drink he walks across the street to the park so that Coolie and Milo can get some exercise. For some reason, the gods are on his side today, and a few minutes into his walk he sees you sitting on a bench under a tree, reading a book.
He doesn’t get to secretly admire how pretty you look sitting there, with the sun streaming down through the limbs of the trees, because Milo and Coolie have spotted you and are actively dragging him in your direction. You’re stirred from your reading and when you look up you see two big fur balls running toward you, their owner not far behind them.
“Hey! Sorry about them.” Brock apologizes as he tries to calm the dogs down. You’re laughing and smiling because Coolie has jumped up on the bench beside you. Brock tells them to get down as they continue to try and jump for your attention, and they eventually settle at his side.
“It’s fine, I don’t mind at all. I feel the same way when I see them,” you say, and it gets a light chuckle from Brock. He loves that you get so excited to see them and he cherishes the way your eyes light up when you reach down to pet them. He’s not sure what to say now, and before the silence gets too awkward you ask him if he wants to sit while motioning to the spot next to you. He gladly accepts your offer, and he sits down next to you.
“What are you reading?” He asks, attempting to facilitate some conversation.
You turn over the book in your hand so that he can see the cover, “It’s called Normal People.” You say before giving him a brief description. You also tell him it’s a series on Hulu and he says he’ll opt to watch that instead of reading the book, earning another laugh from you.
“So, did you leave the boyfriend behind or did you bring him with you?” He asks referring to some of the plot points of the book you had described to him. The question surprises you because one, there wasn’t a boyfriend, and two, why would Brock think there was a boyfriend? Your mind works fast enough to figure he might think that you’re still with Owen, but over the last couple months you don’t think you’ve given him any reason to think you would still be with him.
“Neither I guess. I didn’t have a boyfriend to leave or bring.” You answer, looking over at Brock. You’re sure you almost hear what sounds like a sigh of relief from him, but it happened too quickly to tell.
“I guess you and that guy from college didn’t work out?” Brock asks cautiously. He’s trying not to seem too eager, but he’s dying to know what ever happened between you and that jerk.
You let out a light laugh as you think back to your previous relationship, “No, it definitely didn’t work out.” You say back. “We were obviously super young; we started dating when we were fifteen,” you sigh. “Anyway, I think it just took some time to realize I wasn’t going to marry a guy I thought was cute in my 9th grade biology class. We just didn’t have anything in common anymore. And he turned out to be a total jerk.” It feels surprisingly easy talking to Brock about this. You’ve felt so much shame and embarrassment for staying with this guy from high school for so long, but Brock’s eyes don’t convey any judgement or reason to feel ashamed.
After that you gracefully shift the conversation to Brock’s love life. It was only fair, and when you asked him if he had a special lady- or man in his life, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. It isn’t because you asked him if he was perhaps seeing a man, but because he was just so flustered by you and your questioning of his love life at all.
“Nope. No ladies... Or men for that matter.” He says with a little laugh.
“Really? A star hockey player like you doesn’t have girls lined up waiting for their chance to be with you?” You tease, as you can see, he’s still blushing a bit. You don’t think much of it, other than that he’s probably just shy about those things, but you don’t really feel too bad about teasing him. He continues to convince you that there aren’t any other ladies in his life, and eventually the topic of conversation is forgotten.
Brock walks back to the apartment building with you, and when you get in the elevator you remember that you’re going to be attending a Canucks game next week, “I almost forgot! I’m going to the Preds game next week!” You tell him, and his expression lights up hearing you say that you’ll be attending one of his games. “Some of the guys from work invited me to go with them. I think I’ve really won them over with my new hockey knowledge,” You tell him proudly.
Some of the guys from work who are particularly invested in the hockey team invited you to come with them to a game, and you happily accepted the invitation. You had proven yourself to them as a colleague and now as a hockey fan too.
“I guess we’ll have to get a win for you guys.” Brock replies confidently. The Canucks have had a great record lately and it looks like their winning streak is just getting started. “You better!” You say before the elevator stops on your floor and you tell him you’ll see him later, leaving Brock to think about everything he’s learned about you that morning.
*
It’s Thursday, and this week has been hell.
Sadly, you’re used to dedicating most of your time to work, but this week has been a total shit show, for lack of better words. A big account you’ve been working on decided at the last minute that they wanted something completely different, causing you and your team to have to work some crazy hours this week. By Thursday you’re practically a zombie due to your lack of sleep. The hours you have spent at home have been minimal, as you’ve gotten home past ten almost every night this week, and you leave in the morning again before 7.
The guys on your team have all been working crazy hours too, but you’ve been taking the lead on this campaign, so you’ve made sure to be there early and late every single day. They can tell you’re just about out of gas, and they send you home early, telling you to rest up for the big presentation tomorrow. You try to argue, but they’re right, you need a break. You surrender and head home after stopping to get some takeout, knowing that your fridge at home is starkly empty.
“Ms.Y/L/N, I’ve got a package for you.” Paul, the concierge of your building tells you as you pass him on your way to the elevators. You haven’t made any online purchases as of late, and you don’t remember anyone telling you they were sending you anything. Still, you wait patiently as he goes to the back room to grab it. When Paul returns he’s holding a decent sized shopping bag. You’re not sure what it could be, but you take the bag and thank him, too focused on getting up to your apartment and out of your work pants.
As soon as the door to your apartment is closed behind you, you drop your bags onto the kitchen counter and slip out of your dress pants. Your bra follows shortly, and you settle into your couch with your take out. The rest of your evening is spent lounging on the couch, catching up on your shitty reality tv shows and taking a break from work. When you look down at your phone and see that it’s only 8:30 you tell yourself it’s too early to go to bed, but you’re exhausted and you bed is calling to you. As you gather your dishes and clean up your kitchen you’re reminded of the package you picked up on your way in.
The bag is still sitting on the counter where you left it a few hours ago. You take a minute to think about what it could be or who it could be from, but nothing comes to mind. When you open the bag all you see is some blue fabric. It feels like clothes, so you dump it over on to your counter and come to find that the bag is full of what looks like Vancouver Canucks gear. You’re in surprised to say the least. There are multiple pieces of clothing laying in front of you, and you’re sure it’s at least a few hundred dollars worth of apparel. There’s a note too, but you choose to look through the other contents first.
First off, there’s a navy blue hoodie with the classic Cancuks logo. There are two t-shirts, one has the Canucks throwback logo on it and the other has the pride logo printed on the front. You smile at that, knowing that he obviously knew you would like that one. Next, is a Canucks beanie with a pompom on the top. Finally, you unfold a royal blue jersey. You’re expecting to see a number six on the back but instead your eyes land on the number 40. You can’t help but feel a little sad for a minute, knowing he didn’t get you a jersey with his number on it.
Alas, you unfold the piece of paper that was sitting in the bottom of the bag and it reads:
I figured you might need some gear for the game Saturday. I hope everything fits okay.
If you ever need anything I’m Apt. 859, *his phone number*
-Brock
P.S. Petey insisted that I include his jersey since he’s “your favorite.”
You don’t feel as bad about it not being a Boeser jersey now, and you use a magnet to hang the note up on your fridge before folding your new gear and heading to bed, grinning ear to ear.
Your presentation goes off without a hitch the next day and you and your coworkers are ready to let loose a bit for the Cancuks game the following evening. You meet up with them at a bar that’s not far from the arena, and you grab a round of drinks before you head into the game. The four co-workers you meet up with take note of your Pettersson jersey, and you smile, satisfied with their praises. A couple of them are sporting jerseys too, one with Horvat and the other with a Boeser. You don’t mention that you know the guy who actually wears number 6, and when he scores the game winning goal you cheer just as loud as everyone else, but secretly you’d like to think it was because he knew you were there in the stands.
When you get home after the game you shoot Brock a quick text.
You: nice goal tonight! i think this pettersson jersey is lucky! (10:54pm)
You: this is y/n btw (10:54pm)
You’re not sure if he’ll reply so you set your phone down and start to go through your nightly routine. A few minutes later you hear your phone buzz from your night stand.
Brock: petey didn’t even score tonight and you’re still talking about him? maybe i’ll just take that jersey back (11:01pm)
You: hey, no take backs. but it was a very nice goal! (11:03pm)
Brock: how was your first game? (11:07pm)
You: my second favorite player scored, my team won, and my co-workers were impressed with my vast hockey knowledge so i’d say it went pretty well! (11:13pm)
You spend some time debating on how to word your message, not wanting to send a reply too fast, and not wanting to seem to flirty, but you still let yourself tease him a little bit more before hitting send.
Brock: HAHA. very funny. (11:14pm)
Brock: i’m glad you had a good time. (11:14pm)
Brock: we’ll have to get you to more games. it looks like you might be good luck. (11:15pm)
*
Sunday morning is your time to relax. You try not to do any work and opt to take some time for yourself. This can take many forms, like lounging around the house or even reorganizing your bathroom. Today you opt for baking. You bake a couple dozen brownies and place them in a container before slipping on some shoes to head up a few floors.
You hadn’t given it much thought until you were standing outside of his apartment door, but the two really only interact in the hallways or elevator and you’ve never been to each other’s apartments. The brownies in your hand are probably getting colder by the minute, and you know they taste the best when they’re still warm so you convince yourself to bring your knuckles to the door.
The person who answers the door isn’t Brock. The boy who answers is shorter and has dark hair. You recognize him as Quinn Hughes. Brock told you once that they call him huggy bear, but you’re not totally sure you know why.
“Uh-“ There aren’t words coming out of his mouth, it’s more like an awkward sound that you think it is meant to convey some sort of confusion.
“Um, Is Brock here?” You ask, offering a smile to the boy in front of you.
“Oh, yeah. Um, come on in.” Quinn doesn’t really know if he should be letting someone into his friends apartment, but Brock made him answer the door so he didn’t feel so bad about inviting a stranger in.
You walk through the door and take in Brock’s home. It’s similar to yours, but slightly bigger. He lives on a different side of the building so the windows are slightly different too. You follow Quinn into the living room where you see Elias and Brock and Jake Virtanen sitting on the couch playing video games. The dogs notice you first as you walk in and Quinn nudges Brock telling him someone is here for him before he turns around to see you.
“Y/N! To what do we owe the pleasure?” He asks as he stands from the couch.
“I uh, I just wanted to bring you these. I figured it’s the least I could do since you got me that lucky Pettersson jersey.” He lets out a solid laugh at that. You liked it when he laughed like that. He lets his head hang back and his hand rests on his stomach.
“Well thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.” He says as you hand him the box of brownies. He walks over to the kitchen counter and pulls the lid off. The smell of freshly baked brownies starts to fill the room, and the other boys are at the counter before you know it.
“Oh shit. Those look good.” Jake says as he eyes the baked goods.
The boys are quiet for the next couple minutes except for some humming and “yum” sounds that escape between bites. A couple dozen brownies is apparently no match for four hockey players. You swear half the box vanishes in front of your eyes as they compliment you on your baking abilities. You mentally thank your mom for the perfected family recipe that you practically have memorized. They make friendly conversation, besides Quinn who has remained rather quiet, except for offering a few side comments or sounds of agreement. Eventually Elias asks you more about how your first game hockey game went.
Elias is observant and incredibly well spoken, and he’s making what could have been an awkward situation a very pleasant one. He guides most of the conversation as Brock becomes more comfortable with the dynamic of you being there with his other friends. It’s cute how close Brock and Elias are. Even just standing in the kitchen you can tell the two of them have a bond that’s different than the ones between the other boys. Brock is sometimes shy and blushy when the two of you talk, but with his friends he’s more bold and sure of himself.
The small talk is getting thin, and you’re about to politely end the conversation and tell them you should go when Jake asks how you and Brock know each other. You don’t know why you hesitate, but you do, and you look at Brock who is standing next to you. Before you can decide how to answer Brock replies simply, “We went to UND together back in the day.”
“I guess we don’t really know each other very well, but we had some mutual friends.” You try to add and clarify.
“Oh cool,” Jake replies, not really giving it much thought. “So are you liking the city so far?” he asks.
“I like it a lot , I just haven’t had a lot of free time outside of work to explore. But, my co-workers finally like me since I know all about hockey now, and the one girl in our office is my best and only friend!” You laugh at yourself a bit, because you know it sounds a little sad that you’re a young twenty-something with zero signs of a social life. It earns some laughs from the guys too.
“You should come out with us next weekend, you gotta experience Vancouver’s night life! Plus, we’re celebrating my dog’s birthday!” Jake exclaims, and you can see Elias rolling his eyes and Brock and Quinn are both laughing while shaking their heads.
You look between the boys, a bit confused, “Your what? Your dog’s birthday?”
Jake laughs too when you seem so confused about it, “It seemed like a good excuse to go out. Gotta keep it loose, ya know?” He seems serious about this and you can’t help but laugh. The guys explain that they don’t get out too often during the season, and some of them don’t even like going out, but sometimes it’s good to just let loose with the boys. Jake is one who particularly enjoys a good night out, and so occasionally when the boys haven’t frequented a bar in a while, he comes up with “reasons to celebrate.” Elias sounds like a dad when he says that they all just go along with it to make Jake happy, and Jake looks like a little kid when he rolls his eyes at them. He’s also quick to make the point that they always end up having a good time.
“You obviously don’t have to come, but I think it’ll be fun, and you should bring your friend. Her name’s Jade, right?” You’ve talked to Brock about Jade a couple times in the past, but you didn’t really think he would have listened that intently or that he would remember your co-workers name. It’s nice knowing that he does.
“Yeah, it’s Jade. I guess I could ask her if she’s free and let you know.” You tell him, still contemplating if you even want to go out to some busy club on a Saturday night.
*
“So, uh— What are you doing this weekend?” You ask Jade, your co-worker as you walk into her office. She’s the only other girl in your office, and you’ve become good friends over the last few months. Her dark hair and dark features match her bold and strong personality. Jade constantly bugs you to get out more, especially on the weekends, but you usually curb her requests saying that you’re still getting settled into the new city. This excuse was wearing thin since you’ve been here almost four months now, and you knew you would have to give in to her requests soon. Instead, you’ve opted to invite her to go out with Brock and his friends this weekend. Or rather, pray she would go with you because there was no way you were going alone.
“I don’t know, probably nothing because my friend is a loner who doesn’t ever leave her house.” Jade looks over at you with a knowing expression causing you to roll your eyes.
“Your loner friend actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out this weekend.” You say mimicking her cadence. “That guy from college who lives in my building is celebrating his friend’s dog’s birthday, so him and some of their friends are all going out.” When you explain why Brock’s friends are going out you realize again just how ridiculous it sounds, and you know it’s not really why they’re going to a bar to get hammered, but you relay the information anyway.
You told Jade about “the guy from college” that you had run into in your apartment building, but you didn’t tell her that the guy was Brock Boeser. You were sure she knew who he was, even if she wasn’t shy with her discontent with sports. She’s just not a sports person, but anyone in Vancouver would immediately recognize the name of one of their biggest players. All you told her was that you had gone to UND together and that you had never really been friends, just that you had mutual friends.
She never asked more about who he was, but she did ask if he was cute. You couldn’t lie, it would be sinful to do so about a man who was as good looking as Brock, so you told her the truth. You also told her how good of a guy he was and that he never hesitates to start a conversation with you. Since then, she has asked for regular updates on your interactions together. Even though you withheld some crucial information, you still told her about how he liked talking about hockey and that he had gotten you some Canucks gear to wear to the game. When you told her about that she insisted that he liked you, and part of you wanted to believe that, but another part of you knew that you and Brock still barely knew each other.
He seems really sweet, but you can’t help but feel like he still has plenty of girls vying for his attention. Girls who are prettier and smarter and nicer than you. When you think back to those brief interactions with him it still gives you a feeling of anxiety. It’s the kind of anxiety that you get when you remember something embarrassing you did as a kid or when you’re trying to fall asleep and you remember that you said “you too” to the barista who said “come again!” Either way, you weren’t convinced that your limited interactions warranted any feelings on either of your parts, so you continued to try to suppress your growing feelings for him.
Luckily, Jade was happy to oblige your request of going out. She asked if your friend had any cute single friends, and while you weren’t quite sure if they were single, you said yes figuring that one of them had to be.
“Y/N, It’s me!” You hear Jade come in through your apartment door that you had left unlocked for her. It’s Saturday night and you’re getting ready to go out with Brock and his teammates. You still haven’t told Jade who he is, and you’re hoping she doesn’t freak out when she finds out.
“I’m in my closet!” You shout back to Jade as she makes her way through your apartment. She finds you sitting inside your walk-in closet, trying to decide what to wear, “I’m having a crisis. I have no idea what I should wear.” You look over at her precisely curated outfit that’s perfect for a night out. She looks hot and it’s just enough to not be overdone. He hair is flawlessly sleek and her make up looks like an artist painted it on.
“Stop moping. You’re just nervous because he’s cute and you like him. Go make us some drinks and I’ll pick out your outfit.” You don’t put up a fight, knowing that she’ll probably be able to piece together a great ensemble that you never would have thought of. Your strengths were probably better suited for making cocktails anyway, so you go to the kitchen and whip up a couple of drinks.
On your way back to your room you turn on your “going out” playlist that hasn’t been touched in ages, and when the first drop of alcohol touches your tongue you automatically feel less anxious. She’s right, you totally have a crush on this guy, and you’re super nervous about going out with him and his friends. What’s worse, is that this was pretty much a pity invite, and him and his friends feel bad that you don’t know anyone else in the city.
Brock’s night was going somewhat similarly to yours. When Elias got to his apartment for the pregame he found Brock standing in only his boxers with a pile of clothes covering his closet floor. Elias couldn’t help but laugh at him. He hasn’t seen Brock act this way about a girl in a long time. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure if he’s ever seen Brock act like this. Brock was sensitive, but he wasn’t anxious like this. He wouldn’t get tied up in things like what to wear or what to say to a girl. He did however, have the issue of falling way too hard way too fast, ending up in situations where girls left him after they got what they wanted. Over the years he’s learned how to guard his heart a bit better, and his friends, Elias especially, were always there to protect him.
Elias likes you. He liked you the minute he met you. He was intuitive and was a good judge of character, which made him and Brock a good pair. Brock has a tendency to trust a little too much, but now Elias is there to help guide him toward the right people. When Brock introduced you to Elias, he could immediately tell that you were a good person. He could see it in your eyes, and in your genuine appreciation that Brock would recognize and say hello to you. Elias liked that you were sprightly enough to make a joke about knowing who he was. Most of all, he liked how Brock talked about you. Elias immediately recognizes when Brock has had a conversation with you before practice or a game. He comes in with a little pep in his step, that causes some of the guys to question if he got laid the night before, but now Elias recognizes that he must have seen you on his way to work. Brock gushes about your interactions and about how cute you are when you explain the hockey things you learn. The day that you told him Elias was your favorite player Brock was so excited to tell him. He wasn’t even mad, he just loved how light hearted willing to joke around you were.
Brock occasionally thinks back on the times he saw you after that first night at UND. He thinks about what would have happened if your boyfriend hadn’t been waiting for you outside of your dorm. It’s not that he thinks he would have gotten lucky or that you would have cheated on your boyfriend with him, it’s just that maybe if you had had a bit more time to get to know each other you could have at least become friends. And maybe that friendship could have grown into something more and you would have broken up with that asshole to be with him. Brock thinks about what could have been, but he also knows that hindsight is 20/20. He doesn’t consider himself a superstitious guy, but he can’t help but think that you came to Vancouver for a reason.
When your wardrobe crisis has been averted, you’re fully dressed in skinny jeans and a cute top that’s revealing enough but doesn’t exactly come right out and say “I want to have your babies right now.” (That’s how Jade described it, anyway.) The two of you have had a round of drinks and you decide that it’s probably an appropriate time to head up to Brock’s. You didn’t want to get there too early and be the only ones there, so you made Jade wait it out in your apartment until it was at least thirty minutes after the time he had said to come.
Brock texted you letting you know the door was unlocked, and when you get out of the elevator you can already hear music playing from behind his door. “I can already feel it. This is going to be fun!” Jade tells you excitedly as you reach out for the doorknob. You laugh thinking about how she has no idea she’s about to be drinking with a bunch of professional hockey players for the night.
When you open the door you see some of the guys you’ve met mulling about, most of them with drinks in their hands. Brock comes up to you almost immediately. Without even thinking he wraps you in a hug, and it feels so natural even though you’ve never had any sort of physical interaction with him. Your suspicions were right, he gives the best hugs, and you wish that you could stand there in his warm arms forever, but it only lasts a second before he’s pulling away and turning his attention to your friend who looks likes she’s surprised to see Brock Boeser hugging her coworker and Elias Pettersson coming up behind him to say hello.
“Okay, you didn’t tell me that “your friend” was Brock fucking Boeser.” She doesn’t even try to whisper it, and it’s kind of what you love about her. She just expresses herself freely, and it’s honestly so funny when she says it. It has Brock’s head falling back as he lets out a laugh.
Brock and Elias introduce you and Jade to the other guys who are in the apartment. There are a couple girlfriends among them and even though they all look like they just walked out of an instagram ad, they all seem genuinely nice and aren’t nearly as intimidating as you thought they would be. You don’t get too much time to mingle before Jake informs the group that the “birthday party” is ready to move to the bars, followed by packing into various Ubers.
When you’re all at the bar, a few other guys show up, some single and definitely ready to mingle, but to your surprise some have even brought their wives. The drinks are flowing and you’re actually having fun. You notice that Jade and Jake have spent a lot of time talking, and he offers to get her a drink before they head off to the bar. You laugh, and shake your head as she turns back to give you wink before heading off with the hockey player.
You turn your attention back to the guys standing around the table, when one of them asks you, “So, how do you two know each other? I feel like somebody said you went to UND?” It’s Brandon Sutter, you didn’t recognize him when Brock first introduced you, seeing as most of the photos you’ve seen of him include a hockey helmet covering most of his face. It’s probably the alcohol— no, it’s definitely the alcohol that has you responding to his question, “Yeah, we went to UND together, but we didn’t really hang out or anything, I think everyone just thought I was massive bitch.” You laugh, but you can see some confusion setting in on Brock’s expression. Brandon laughs too, not thinking much of what you said.
“What do you mean?” Brock asks. He never thought of you that way back in college. He knew that guy you dated was jerk. He dimmed your light, and that wasn’t your fault.
“I don’t know, I just figured you guys all thought I was kind of a bitch because I just hung out with my boyfriend all the time.” You don’t really know what else to say, thinking back to those days where you would follow Owen around like a lost puppy.
“I don’t think anybody thought that, we just thought your boyfriend was dick.” He says, and before you can say anything else he adds, “No offense. He just didn’t seem like he treated you very well. That night he yelled at you in front of the dorm when he found out you went to our party left a pretty bitter taste in my mouth.”
“Sounds like a dick, to me.” Quinn says matter-of-factly. You’re sure it’s the alcohol for him too, he’s been more talkative in the last hour than he has been in the two other times you’ve seen him.
“Yeah, he was.” You answer back.
“So I guess you’re not still dating this guy, are you?” Brandon asks. You can feel sets of eyes all resting on you now, like you’re about to reveal a big secret.
“No no, we broke up right before senior year of college. I dated a little in grad school, but when I found out I was moving to Canada I didn’t really bother with trying to find boyfriend.” You tell them, as they nod in response.
The rest of the night isn’t as serious. Jade and Jake tear up the dance floor, and when she nudges you to signal she’s leaving with him you tell her to wrap before she taps it, earning a laugh and wave goodbye. Brock stays by your side the entire night, neither of you wanting to join the others dancing. His arm stays perched on the back of the booth you’re in, while you listen to JT tell some elaborate story from their recent road trip.
When Brock sees you yawn for the third time in a row he asks if you’re ready to head home. “Yeah, I’m tired. I’ll probably just head home soon.” You think he might offer to go back with you, but you don’t want to assume. Instead of yelling over the loud music he just nods and pulls out his phone. He tells the boys that you’re both heading out and they all say goodbye before Brock nudges you out of the booth.
On the car ride home he asks you what you thought of the boys, laughing when your first response is that there are just so many of them. “It’s like trying to keep track of puppies. They’re there one second and then they’re off doing something else the next,” You laugh at yourself thinking about how many of them probably have undiagnosed ADHD, or maybe some of them are diagnosed. “But it’s cute, you guys are like a little family.” This earns one of those genuine Brock Boeser smiles. He’s proud of his little family. He loves them all, and he’s glad that you like them because he can tell they like you too.
That night out leads to a few more texts back and forth, and eventually to full on conversations that go one for days at a time. One night he asked what you were doing and you told him you were going to watch the Battle of Alberta game. You had heard a lot about this rivalry since you embarked on your hockey education, and you figured you should see what all the hype was about. To your surprise, Brock asked if he could join you, and the two you spent the night watching hockey from your couch.
You hadn’t watched a game this intense before, and when Matthew Tkachuk drops his gloves to fight Zack Kassian, Brock can tell you’re on edge. You knew there were fights in hockey, and you had watched a few clips on youtube, but it seemed more real watching it in realtime. You wondered what it would be like to see something like that in person. As the two players are ushered off the ice, you can’t help but wonder if Brock would ever find himself in a situation like that, and when you ask him if he ever fights during games he chuckles a bit before he answers, “No, I’m not really the fighting type. I think it’s better for everyone if I leave that up to guys like Zack and Jordie.”
You’re not totally convinced by this, and you don’t like that the thought of Brock in a fight makes you feel so sick. He can sense your hesitation and he wants to try to ease your mind, “When fights like that break out, it’s usually because both players have agreed to it. You can see that they’re talking right before, they’re asking each other if they want to do it.” He narrates as the fight replays on your TV. “Occasionally someone will still throw a punch even if the other guy says no, but that’s not common. It’s kind of an unspoken rule that you have to stand up for your team, so most guys who are asked will fight, but I’m not usually the guy in that position. I haven’t fought once in the NHL, and I plan to keep it that way. I’d get rag-dolled by both of those guys.” He says pointing back to where the players now sit in their respective boxes.
It’s nice to know that Brock hasn’t fought anyone before, but you still worry about him getting hurt. What if he was the one who got caught by a bad hit? You can’t keep thinking about things you can’t control, so you try your best to shift your attention back to the game.
You and Brock find yourselves in each others apartments more often after that. The two of you will make dinner and watch a game, or just watch TV for the night. Occasionally you walk down to the coffee shop on the corner together or walk over to the park with Coolie and Milo. You’ve started to become friends, and you feel like Brock is letting you get to know him more and more everyday. The conversation is easier, and the flirting is probably more noticeable than either of you thinks it is. Your positions on the couch have drifted from opposite sides of the couch to having your thighs touching while his arm sits, resting behind you across the back of the couch. He always greets you with a big hug, and lately you’ve noticed his arms lingering around your body a little bit longer than the time before
He hasn’t made a move yet, and you haven’t either. You think that maybe he just isn’t interested in getting closer, and you’re admittedly too self-conscious to try to make a move yourself. Tonight os just like any other night that the two of you spend together but you don’t notice that Brock is pretty far gone in his thoughts. That may be because you’re lost in your own as well. A few minutes later his voice brings you back to reality, “Are you okay?” You look up from where you’ve been staring down at the wine glass in your hand. You’re sitting at his kitchen counter, and he’s standing on the other side of the island looking back at you. You tell him you’re fine but you can see that he doesn’t buy it for a second.
“You know you’re like a really good guy, right?” You ask him, after taking another sip of wine.
He smiles back at you with a bit questioning in his eye, “I mean I’d like to think that I’m not too bad.” He says back.
“No, Brock. You’re like really good. You help old ladies at the grocery store, and you talk about your nephew like he’s your own kid, and you’re nice to me when you really don’t have to be.” You try to tell him just how genuinely good he is. You wish you could explain it more eloquently and you wish you could show him how good of heart he has.
“That just sounds like normal people stuff,” he replies with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
He would say something like that, and think that normal people were just as nice as he is, and maybe they were, but the people that you’ve met throughout your life have somewhat tainted that idea for you.
“I think maybe you don’t realize how good you are.” He says back, looking you directly in the eyes. “You’re a good person, and just because I knew you back when you dated some jerk in college, doesn’t mean that it has any impact on how I feel about you now.” He’s so serious in this moment, and not at all like the usual lighthearted guy you’re used to. Somehow he knew just where your insecurities laid. He’s so genuine and honest sometimes that it hurts and the butterflies you feel in your stomach are getting harder and harder to ignore.
The two of you don’t talk much for the rest of the night, and instead settle in a comfortable silence while Brock catches up on the episodes of Gossip Girl that Elias watched without him. Brock isn’t paying attention to what is happening on his TV. His mind is way too busy thinking of what he’s going to do next. The guys have all been pestering him to get a move on, saying that he’ll miss his window of opportunity with you, and he knows that they’re right. If he’s lucky he hasn’t missed his opportunity yet, but if not, he might just be screwed.
He doesn’t even notice when his eyes shift away from the screen and move to rest on you. He’s taking his time, studying every feature, taking in every soft curve of your face. He loves the subtle crinkles on the sides of your eyes that deepen when you smile, and it’s even better when it happens because of something he said or did. If he could, he would make sure that smile stayed on your face for every second of the day. Your hair flows naturally without being fixed and he knows that you often let strands fall in front of your eyes when you’re too concentrated on your work or like now, when you’re invested in the show that you’re watching.
Without a thought, and on instinct alone, Brock slowly moves his hand up toward your face and softly tucks the strand of hair behind your ear. You’re a bit caught off guard at first, but you remain still as you feel his fingers linger on the side of your neck. Eventually you let your eyes meet his and you realize just how close you are to him. The two of you stay like that for a minute, staring at each other, taking each other in. It’s too easy to get lost in Brock’s ocean-like eyes, and you swear you hear the enchanting sound of waves crashing on a beach.
You’ve been staring at each other for what feels like too long, and you’re about to pull away when you feel Brock’s hand on the side of your face again. He’s slowly inching toward you and his eyes are still glued to yours. He’s searching for any source of panic or concern in your eyes, but he doesn’t find any. Your heart has taken over at this point and you can’t keep yourself away any longer, before you lean in and your lips finally meet his.
Kissing Brock feels like everything good in the world. It’s feels like the first time you road a bike or the first time you tasted ice cream. It’s new and invigorating and yet you feel totally safe and secure. Before you know it, you’re deepening the kiss and Brock lets you lead him to where you’re comfortable. It just so happens that you find comfort when you reposition yourself so that your legs are straddling his and his hands are resting on your hips. It’s only when your hips shift on top of him and he can’t help but let out a deep moan that also he makes himself pull away from you. It’s then when you start to panic, and think that maybe this was a mistake, maybe he’s realizing that now.
“I don’t want you to think that I just want this.” He says as he motions to the small space separating your bodies. “I don’t want this to just be a one-time thing…” he mutters out, like he’s a bit embarrassed, and nervous that you won’t want the same thing.
“Brock, the only reason I wouldn’t want this is if you didn’t want it. But if you do, then I do too.” You say steadily. Brock smiles and it’s one of those big toothy smiles he only shares when he’s truly happy. You can’t say anything because you’re just as elated, so instead you lean down to kiss him again.
*
It’s only been a short six months since that night on Brock’s couch, but now you get to call his bed your own, and when you come home to your shared apartment you’re greeted by your beautiful blond boyfriend and your two dogs. Brock insists that you’re their adoptive mom now, and to make it official he bought the two of you matching hats that say “Dog Mom AF” and “Dog Dad AF.” You both wear them when you walk your fury kids together and even though you tell him you think they’re cheesy he knows that you love them.
Brock is somehow everything you need him to be. He’s strong when you’re not and he makes you laugh when you’re sad, but most of all he’s your steady companion. It’s crazy now, thinking back to when you met him. You were just a kid, barely out of high school, and you really hadn’t had the chance to think about what you actually wanted for your life.
Then you graduated, went to graduate school, and started to find out who you were without a boy to dictate the ins and outs of your life. When you were given the opportunity to move to Vancouver you saw it as a new beginning, but you didn’t realize that it was going to be a gift to more than one part of your life. Your work life and your career goals were finally falling into place and that just left one more thing—your love life. You had stopped worrying so much about finding a boyfriend along the way as you focused on yourself, but when Brock Boeser reentered your life you couldn’t ignore it.
Brock’s reemergence was a surprise to say the least, but now you both see that it was a gift of a second chance. When you first met, neither of you were ready for the kind of commitment you now share with each other, and you know now more than ever that those years with Owen and the years you spent alone were all worth it, because when history repeats itself you have the power to change the narrative.
#brock boeser#vancouver canucks#brock boeser imagine#brock boeser fic#hockey imagine#hockey fic#nhl fic#nhl#canucks
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Drawings on Ice (Part One) | Charlie Gillespie
Requested by anonymous: I’d love for you to write a Charlie hockey fic. I’ve been hearing that heard a great hockey player so I need that in my life
A/N: this is going to be a two-parter! Hope this is what you imagined!
Summary: You moved from the US to Canada, starting over at a new college. Your newest (and only) friend begs you to join her at her boyfriend’s hockey practice where you see Charlie for the first time. With his beautiful eyes and perfect smile and perfect facial structure, you become obsessed with drawing him. It’s been a habit of yours to draw anyone you saw with interesting bone structure. Though your friend warns you about the jock bad boy, you can’t help but be intrigued by him...
Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Gender Neutral!Reader
A/N: I hope I made this as gender neutral as possible! Let me know if there’s anything I need to change to make it even more inclusive for non-binary/gender fluid people.
Words: 3,648
Warnings: Some curse words (bitch, fuckboy)
You’ve never been a fan of any type of sports. Your siblings used to play basketball and you had to go to their games, though you were always busy sketching in your sketchbook to really notice or learn anything about it. Then, you suddenly had to move for your mother’s job. To Canada, of all places. Canada, the land of maple syrup, brutally cold winters… and hockey.
The only good thing about moving thus far, was meeting Andrea. Andrea is a preppy, happy-go-lucky kind of girl, and was the first one to talk to you on your first day at your new college. Always dressed in pink or purple, make-up done flawlessly and always so kind, you think she’s being fake. Normally, people like that scared you. Kids like that in your American High School were always the popular ones that bullied the antisocial nerds, which included you at that point. That’s why you’d avoided talking to anyone on your first day. Only Andrea was persistent. You could not for the life of you shake her off.
So, instead of trying any longer, you embraced it and became friends with her fast. Thanks to her, you found your way through the buildings and all the classes. She even gave you tips on some of the professors you had.
To be fair, Andrea did help you out a lot, so when she asked you to come along to her new boyfriend’s hockey practice, you had no other choice but go. You’d packed your sketchbook though, just in case you got bored.
“So, which one is yours?” you ask Andrea when you sit down in the bleachers with her.
“Number eight!” she says, pointing to one of the players skating in circles. He catches his girlfriend pointing at him and gives her a wave, which makes Andrea giggle. The boy with the number 10 plastered on his back, turns upon seeing his buddy wave to the bleachers. You catch his eyes and feel a shiver run down your spine. Even from afar, you can tell those are the most beautiful and enchanting eyes you ever did see.
“Who’s number 10?” you ask Andrea without taking your eyes off the boy. Without even noticing, you start to trace his features on your leg with your finger, a habit you developed over the years. His chiseled cheekbones, his fine nose, the wrinkles by his mouth as he smiles up at her.
“Charlie. Sam’s best friend,” Andrea explains while you try your hardest not to stare at the cute hockey player while you’re tracing him. “Wouldn’t get too close though, I heard he has a reputation of being a heartbreaker.”
Of course. All cute boys have to be absolute disappointments.
Despite Andrea’s warning, you couldn’t help but think about Charlie every minute of the day. It was the smile and the eyes that haunted you through every lecture and every study-session with Andrea in the library. You traced his features on your empty papers on automatic pilot, not even realizing you were doing it until you were actually drawing him with a ballpoint pen.
“Honey, no!” Andrea says sternly. The two of you are at the library, studying for midterms when the drawing on your notes starts to take shape. The shape of a certain hockey player.
“I can’t help it, Andi! He’s in my mind and I just -- my brain just tells me to draw things and he’s been the only thing on my mind lately, I… I don’t know why or what it is, but I’m kind of drawn to him?” The girl in front of you shakes her head disappointedly.
“Look at him!” she whisper-shouts, nodding her head to somewhere behind you. You slowly turn your head to find Charlie with one leg up on a chair, leaning his elbow on it as he’s flirting with a girl. “That’s number five this week… And it’s Tuesday.” You can’t help but stare at him though. His profile is impeccable. Before you know it, you’re back to tracing his features on your leg. “Y/N!” Andrea shouts in a hushed tone, capturing your attention again, ruining your entire mental picture of Charlie. “You ought to stop that, sweetie. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Oh, I don’t get hurt, Andi,” you reply with a smirk, turning to face her again, “Being the antisocial kid in high school has its perks.” Andrea’s eyes widen at something behind you.
“Time to prove it then,” she mutters. You quickly hide your drawing underneath your textbook and pretend to continue studying as Charlie approaches your table.
“Hello, ladies,” he greets with a charming smile. Though on the inside you’re just about melting, your tough exterior doesn’t give it away. “I don’t think we’ve met.” He reaches a hand out to you. “I’m Charlie.” You glance up from your textbook, let your eyes dart from his hand to his face and turn back to your textbook. “Okay…” he mutters, feeling a little defeated by his first rejection.
“We’re studying, Charlie. Can we help you with anything?” He glances over at you for a split second as he thinks about it.
“Uhm, yeah. Are you guys coming to the game this weekend?” His flirty demeanor changes all of a sudden to someone less confident. You look up at him, wanting to break your antisocial facade because it never brought you anywhere in High School and won’t bring you anywhere now.
“I might. If I don’t have anything better to do, that is.” You decide to run with the sassy-bitch inside you. Charlie actually looks disappointed with this answer.
“Okay…” he turns back to Andrea, “You’ll come, right?” She nods her head. “Can you convince her?” You chuckle at his desperate attempt, which earns you a glare from him.
“She can make up her own mind, Charlie,” Andrea replies, raising her hands in defense. Gruntled and disappointed, Charlie turns around and leaves the two of you alone. “Girl!” Andrea squeals once he’s out of earshot, and holds up her hand for a high five, which you giddily give.
“Told you I could do it,” you shrug with an amused smile on your face.
“That was very impressive. Did you see his face when you didn’t even introduce yourself? He was so disappointed his charms didn’t work on you!” she giggles loudly. The librarian shushes her, and she holds up her hands in defense before lapsing into quieter giggles with you. You can’t help but feel bad though. Charlie actually seemed incredibly upset by your lack of interest. It makes you wonder if he actually says who people say he is.
On Saturday, you go to the hockey game anyway. There’s nothing else you can do, and besides, it gives you a chance to draw a little more of Charlie in action on the ice. The surprised smile on Charlie’s face is to die for. It makes you feel like you’re the only girl he sees, like he’s not the guy people say he is.
You say hello to Andrea and some of her friends you’ve met before, and sit down on the bench, immediately getting your sketchpad and pencil out. You start on Charlie, but halfway through, Andrea asks you to draw Sam too. Deciding it would probably be less suspicious if you drew the entire team, you start on Sam. By halftime, you have about every team member on your page sketched out. None of them quite as detailed as Charlie, but you’ll get to that at some point.
“We’re going to say hello to the boys, you coming?” Andrea asks you when you’re shading your drawings. You glance up at Andrea, then glance down at the rink where you find Charlie already looking at you. He cocks his head, beckoning you to come over. For a second then, you’re forgetting all about your antisocial facade and feel yourself heat up. You cough the feeling away and get up after stuffing your sketchpad back into your bag, following Andrea down the steps.
“You came,” he states when you reach him on the side of the rink.
“Are you always this attentive?” you ask with a hint of sarcasm flavoring your voice. His chuckle fills your ears like a beautiful melody. Why does he do this to you? There honestly are so many boys that could be so much better for you, but instead, you’re crushing on the campus bad boy.
“Are you always this hostile?” You’re dumbfounded at his comeback. No one ever called you hostile. Antisocial, sure. A bitch, multiple times. But never hostile. “You weren’t paying a lot of attention to the game though?” he says, changing the subject upon noticing your reaction.
“Well, neither have you if you noticed me not paying attention,” you shoot back, an amused smile tugging at your lips.
“Touché,” he chuckles. “But seriously, what were you doing?” You open your mouth to say something, but are stuck on what to tell him. Do you lie to him? Or say the truth?
“I--I’m an arts student, and I draw pretty much everything I see, so…” His eyes widen at your response, as does his smile. You’re not entirely sure if telling the truth was a good idea. He might just run off, like everyone in High School used to do when you told them you drew them, no matter how good it was. Everyone always thought it was creepy, so you tended to keep all your art to yourself.
“Can I see?” he asks just as the ref blows his whistle, signalling the start of the next half. He gives me an apologetic look, thinking of a good compensation. “Stay after the game?” You know you shouldn’t. You know Andrea is probably right and he’s the biggest womanizer walking this earth, but looking into his gorgeous hazel eyes and witnessing his lips curl up into the most beautiful smile, you can’t help but nod your head. His teeth bite down his lip as he skates away, keeping his eyes on you.
“What was that about?” Andrea asks you when you take your seats again. You let out a deep, confused, yet content sigh.
“I have no clue…”
For a while, you watch the game -- mostly Charlie -- and witness him making a goal. You, along with all the other supporters of the team, get up from your seats, cheering loudly. Charlie looks up at you, a wide smile plastered on his face as he points to you. Your heart skips a beat, not expecting him to do something like that at all.
“Someone has a crush on you…” Andrea whispers in your ear, a teasing smile on her face.
“No, he doesn’t! That wasn’t for me…” you try to reassure yourself, but fail miserably. That was for you, and you know it all too well. Another thing you know, is that this probably shouldn’t be quite as heart-melting as it is.
“If that’s what you have to tell yourself…” Andrea mutters before turning back to the game. This is not what you thought would happen in your first month of moving to Canada and starting anew at another college. Not at all.
The game is coming to an end now, and you’re still watching. Yes, you read that correctly. You’re still watching the game. A sports game. You! You never thought you would even last ten minutes watching, but somehow, Charlie made it all the more interesting. After every goal he’s scored, he pointed up at you, making you blush like crazy. You have absolutely no idea what’s happening or why he’s doing what he’s doing. All you know is that you like it. You like the way he makes you feel like a normal person for once in your life. Like you’re important. Like you matter. For once, it doesn’t feel like you’re the weirdo art kid that sits on the sidelines, drawing everything and everyone they see.
“We’re going to go for some drinks with the team, want to come?” Andrea asks when the game is over and the players all head to the dressing rooms and the crowd files out of the bleachers.
“Oh, uhm… I think I might stay a little while longer, you know? Work on my sketches,” you try your hardest not to smile like an absolute crazy person. Andrea raises her eyebrows at you, giving you a knowing look. She can just about see right through you.
“Just be careful, okay?” she takes you in for a quick hug goodbye and then leaves with her friends. You sit down again and take your sketchpad out of your bag to kill some time while waiting for Charlie. He probably has to shower and change out of his gear and talk to his buddies before coming out to find you.
For a while, you just sit and stare at the drawing of all these boys. They’re scattered all over the paper, but only one really captures you, and that’s Charlie. He’s the boy in the center of the page. Somehow, you really managed to bring out his very best features. His sparkling eyes, his chiseled jawline, his sharp cheekbones. On that page in front of you is Charlie. Though the others somewhat look about right, Charlie really takes the crown in this picture. It’s almost like you’ve studied him so well, that you drew him this perfectly. Which is only half true. All it took was one look and you had him down. All of his features, all of his details. You had it all down from one single look at him.
You’ve started adding some more shadows to his face, the world around you vanishing as those eyes stare right back at you. You’re so enthralled, you don’t even notice the real life Charlie walking up to you until his voice reaches your ears.
“Hey, sorry if I made you wait long.” Your head snaps up and your eyes widen, almost looking like a deer caught in headlights. He places his bag on the bench in front of you before sitting down next to you. A scent of minty freshness and invigorating citrus meets your nostrils.
“Oh, no. Don’t worry about it,” you tell him with a smile, carefully closing your sketchpad and sticking your pencil between the rings at the top. “That was a very good game,” you compliment him, nodding towards the rink to emphasize. “I think… Not really a sports person.” He chuckles at this, glancing down at the floor bashfully.
“I guess I found my lucky charm.” The second he looks up at you again and those words tumble out of his mouth, you can feel your stomach do flips. To cover the way it actually makes you feel, you roll your eyes, smiling amusedly.
“How many people have you said that too, hm?” you ask with raised eyebrows. His smile falters at this, making you realize that it might not be something he likes to hear. The same way you don’t like hearing you’re a creep or a stalker for drawing pictures of people.
“I don’t know what people have said about me to you, but I really am not what they peg me for.” His voice is soft, and for the first time since meeting him, he sounds fragile. “You sleep with two different people in one week, and they have you pinned down as the campus’ man-whore.” You give him a sympathetic smile, even though he’s not even looking at you. “I’m not actually this guy that sleeps around, you know? Sure, I flirt with a lot of people, but if your reputation precedes you, well…” he trails off at the end, and then finally looks up at you.
“I know how you feel…” you start carefully, which captures his undivided attention. “There was this girl in high school and she had the most beautiful features, you know? Sharp jawline, the deepest dimples in her cheeks when she smiled… I couldn’t help but keep drawing her. She just took so well on paper, and when I showed her, she called me a stalker and a creep. From then on out, I became the stalker creep from Valley High.” You roll your eyes at the memory of Kiara and everyone else at that school. “So, I have a reputation that precedes me too…”
“It’s nice to know I’m not alone,” Charlie says with a light-hearted chuckle. “Could I… Could I look at your work?” he carefully asks, pointing at the pad in your lap. You wrapped your fingers around the leatherbound sketchbook, debating it.
“Promise you won’t run when you see what’s in here?” You offer it to him, and he grabs it, but you’re holding it so tightly, he can’t take it. He raises an eyebrow at you.
“What? It’s not like you drew me or anything, did you?” he jokes, to which you just press your lips together in a thin line. His expression softens in realization. “Oh…” You stare at him for a moment, both of you holding onto the pad. “I promise I won’t run, okay?” You slowly let go of the pad. He places it on his lap and starts flipping through pages. The first few drawings are random kids from campus, either studying in the library or reading a book underneath the big maple tree. Then follow Andrea’s drawings. She suggested being your model, she said you could ask her any time you wanted. After that, Charlie’s sketches follow. The first few are of him during practice with his helmet on. On the next page, are the ones you drew in the library. Some profile, some portrait. He then flicks to the one of all the players, and shuts it after finding empty pages after that. It’s silent for a moment, like he’s taking it all in.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shown you that,” you quickly say and reach for your book, but Charlie has a steady grip on it. He finally looks up at you, a shocked expression on his face.
“No. No, it’s just… I wish I knew the name of the artist that captured me so realistically on paper.” You swallow a lump in your throat as his hazel eyes bore deep down into your soul.
“Uhm… Y/N,” you introduce yourself shyly. “I just have a habit of drawing people with really nice facial structure, I guess…” you add with a nervous chuckle, staring down at your fingers as they play around with the bracelets around your wrists.
“Huh…” You look up at that, wondering if it’s a weirded-out ‘huh’ or something else.
“What?” It comes out in an unwanted whisper.
“No one’s ever given me a compliment about my facial structure,” he smiles down at you. It’s the most overwhelming feeling of warmth radiating through your body from that one smile.
“It’s true though! If you check that last page of the whole team, the others don’t really have that sharp a jaw or chiseled cheekbones like you,” you state, pointing at the sketchpad. He opens it on that page and watches it for a couple seconds.
“This makes me feel like the prettiest boy on the team.” He closes it again and hands it over to you, looking straight into your eyes again. You swear you’re going to faint one time if he keeps on doing that.
“You are the prettiest boy on the team, Charlie,” you joke, grinning teasingly whilst clutching the sketchpad against your chest. Charlie chuckles at this, and you swear you can detect a slight blush on his cheeks as he looks down at his feet again.
“You want to get out of here?” he then asks, “We could go to the coffee shop across the street to warm up? Get that little nose of yours back to its normal color.” He softly boops your nose, which is no doubtedly red from the cold from the ice rink. You giggle nervously, and then nod your head in agreement.
The two of you get up from your seats and grab your bags. Before you even realize it, Charlie has grabbed your freezing hand in his warmer one, and guides you down the bleachers all the way to the café across the street. The warmth engulfs you like a welcome hug as the two of you take a seat in a booth by the window.
“What’s your go-to coffee order?” he asks, perusing the menu even though he knows what he wants. You scan the booklet, looking for the one thing you always get.
“A cappuccino with whipped cream,” you reply, pointing at the order on the menu.
“Ooh, good choice!” he agrees excitedly, “Would choosing a hot chocolate make me less cool?”
You chuckle, “Well, it’s a hot chocolate, it’s bound to make you less cool.” He laughs at your joke, throwing his head back. You can’t help but laugh along, mostly at how adorable he is in a fit of laughter.
“Good one, Y/N,” he says.
You give your orders to the waitress, and lapse into a conversation about everything and anything. He asks you about your college major, and you ask him all about hockey. The way his eyes light up when he’s talking about the sport he loves, or anything he loves, is endearing. You can’t believe Andrea made you stay away from him for so long. Charlie really isn’t the bad boy jock she had him pegged for. If anything, he’s the opposite. He’s kind and considerate, and incredibly ambitious and passionate about everything he loves. You just want to know everything about him and spend as much time with him as possible.
Without even realizing it, you’re tracing his features again on your leg, preparing for yet another drawing of him. Preparing for more adventures with him.
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Personal story time! This one is not nearly as dark as some of my stories, but it is personal, so I’m putting it behind a “keep reading” link. Honestly, what happened is that tonight I went to my first practice of the team I coach in a long time, and it’s gotten me thinking about things, so I’ve decided to tell stories about it.
The last tournament I coached was at the beginning of March, 2020. It was the high school provincial championships, and it was a big deal. In terms of pure numbers of competitors, it’s the biggest tournament in Canada. People only go to nationals if they can afford it and if they think they’ll do well, but everyone who qualifies goes to the high school provincial championships. People from smaller provinces, who don’t have anything on this scale, are jealous. They get annoyed at how many people from our province would rather win this tournament than win the national championships, because this tournament has more competitors and more hype and just seems cooler, especially to a high school kid. They sarcastically refer to it as the [tournament name] World Championships to make fun of us for how we see it, and this has caused us to affectionately refer to it as the [tournament name] World Championships.
When you’re there, that’s how it feels. You’re in a massive arena, and there are people from all across the province. This may not seem like a big deal, because it’s just a province, but it’s worth noting that my province is about 800,000 square kilometres bigger than the UK. Not England, the entire UK. Obviously we have a small fraction of the population, but in this instance, it’s the geographical size that makes it feel like a big deal. The best two athletes from every region in our province, from every pocket of this large expanse of land, from faraway places. If you win this, you’re royalty in our sport. The top six athletes get to stand on the podium together at the end, and the gold medalist’s coach hands out ribbons to numbers 5 and 6, and puts medals around the necks of the first four. Yeah, that’s the first four, fourth place finishers get a medal called “aged bronze”, because this tournament needs to be special that way.
But the gold medalist gets the best experience by far. They get to stand on the top block of the podium while their own coach adorns them with the medal, and hands them their massive draw sheet. The huge sheet that gets posted on the wall for the week, one for each category with all the matchups of the all the athletes, and the winner gets to take it home. The winning coach gives out the ribbons and medals, hands their own athlete the draw sheet, and everyone takes pictures, and it’s the coolest fucking thing. High school kids across the province spend years dreaming about it. I certainly did, at that age.
These entire two paragraphs have been my justification for why I still have my draw sheet on my wall, even though I know the implications of being in my thirties and having a high school accomplishment displayed. I remember standing in the coral after winning my gold medal match all those years ago, and feeling a dampness on my face, and realizing I was crying from joy for the first time in my life. Connotations be damned - why would I ever want to get rid of a reminder of the first time that happened? After I won that tournament, I got my draw sheet laminated and put it on the wall in my childhood bedroom. When I moved out of my parents’ house a year later, I put it on the wall in my new bedroom. And then I just kept doing it. I’ve never moved and thought… you know what? This memento of the first time I ever cried from joy doesn’t need to go up in the new room.
Since I stopped competing myself and became a coach, I’ve coached several athletes to gold medals at this tournament, and it’s been an incredibly special moment every time. I’ve also coached a bunch of athletes to non-gold podium finishes, and that’s special too. Any top six finish at this tournament is a big deal; they get a picture on the podium, they get that moment of celebration of something they’ve worked so hard for for so long.
This tournament occurs every year, or did occur every year before the world ended, at the beginning of March. In 2020, it went off without a single COVID-related hitch. We knew the coronavirus was a thing, and we knew it was scary, but it wasn’t here. We didn’t think twice about gathering hundreds of people (once you add up the athletes, coaches, refs, draw masters and other administrators, volunteers, and spectators) from all over the province in one indoor location to make a bunch of physical contact.
A good friend of mine coaches a team in a city that’s about five hours away. Pre-pandemic, I saw him most weekends, because most weekends had tournaments that gathered teams from at least a five-hour radius. I now haven’t seen this friend in two years, and I miss him a lot. We talked on the phone the other day, but it’s not the same as seeing him. The kids on my team, who are braver than I am and have been doing practices and tournaments in the last few weeks, including tournaments that take them to his city five hours away, tell me he’s grown his hair. It’s weird to me that this guy I used to see so often can have grown his hair from buzz cut to shoulder length and I didn’t know until a kid I coach told me. Specifically, this kid asked me if he’s taken up drugs lately, because he looks like he has. I said they shouldn’t deal in stereotypes that way; he’s been doing various drugs for years and they shouldn’t assume that just because he used to have shorter hair that means he hasn’t been doing drugs all along (I didn’t really say that because it isn’t age-appropriate information to give to the kid who asked, but I did think it, because it’s true).
This guy is not the most responsible person I’ve ever met, and during that March 2020 tournament, he had quite a bad cough. That did not bother him at all, because why would it? Why would a bad cough bother anyone in early March 2020? He still coached the tournament and did not alter his behaviour in any way.
Shortly after that tournament, the world ended, and I remembered my friend’s cough. I called him and asked him if he was okay. He said he wasn’t that bad, but the cough was still there, and it was a dry cough, and there had been a fever at some point, and yeah, he probably had the coronavirus. He did not sound bothered by this at all, because that’s the sort of person he is. “What the fuck?” I asked him. “You have the fucking pandemic disease?” He told me it was fine, he’d recover soon. And he did. Of course he recovered soon; people who don’t worry about things have an annoying way of having everything work out fine for them anyway. He didn’t get a COVID test because those were being rationed then, but a few months later, a different test told him he had antibodies. He had not been sick since, so it’s very likely that he did in fact have COVID during that tournament.
After that phone call in mid-March 2020, in which my friend whom I’d recently seen in person told me he probably had the coronavirus, I got quite freaked out. I wanted to do a test, but as I said, they were rationed at the time. I spent a couple of weeks very anxious that he’d infected me, until finally the incubation period had passed and I figured I was fine. If I did get COVID from him, it was asymptomatic in me.
During that time, I frantically wracked my brain to try to remember if I’d had any close contact with that friend during that tournament. It was a busy few days, so we didn’t have much time for socializing. I never hung out with him in a hotel or anything, because at a tournament that big, all I want to do between competition times is sleep and recover. So any transmission would have occurred at the tournament’s venue.
I thought through our greeting at the beginning of the tournament. It was what one would call a “bro hug”, a sort of handshake into hand clasp into shoulder contact, quicker and less directly face-to-face than a normal hug. Also, he’s six-foot-seven, so during that or any other hug between us, my face got nowhere near his. That one might be okay.
I tried to think – did we have any other physical contact? And then I remembered. The last match I coached before the end of the tournament. One of my best athletes made it into the gold medal match. He had a glorious run of victory after victory, made all the sweeter by a tough loss in the first round at that same tournament a year before. This kid (and by “kid” I mean “17-year-old”) had been working his ass off for years with the goal of doing well in this tournament. The previous year, when he’d combined bad luck on the draw sheet with a poor performance and missed the podium entirely, had been heartbreaking. But in 2020, he got it together. He looked dominant in every match he had on his way to the finals, he earned his spot there.
This tournament, being one that thinks of itself as the [tournament name] World Championships, of course creates hype around its final matches. Everyone who makes the top six gets the spotlight on them while they compete to see where they’ll land. The regular tournament has ten mats that all run at the same time, but before the finals, they take a two-hour break to roll up the excess mats until they’re down to six. Then they do one category at a time, with girls on one side and boys on the other. On one end is the fifth-place match, on the other end is the bronze-medal match, and in the middle is the gold-medal match. Before they start each category, the athletes and their coaches walk in like UFC fighters while a loudspeaker announces their names and regions.
I did the walk in with this athlete, alongside my co-coach/best friend of many years. It was fucking cool. I’d done it a few times before by then, but the novelty hadn’t – hasn’t – nearly worn off. And athlete doesn’t get that far unless they’ve been working very hard for a long time, and if an athlete I coach has been working that hard for that long, then I’ve formed a close bond with them in the process. I care deeply about them and seeing them go after their dream – literally walking behind them as they make their way across an arena to chase it – is a fucking honour. Even better that I get to share that with my best friend.
So this kid. This seventeen-year-old kid who got into the gold medal match in early March 2020, this kid I’d worked with for years, trying to give him everything he needed, physically and mentally and emotionally, to be able to handle this exact moment. This kid. This kid was facing the star athlete from a team that was much bigger than ours, had many more resources than ours, and came from a much bigger city. That opponent had competed at the World Championships the year before (the actual World Championships, not just our tournament to which we’ve given that nickname). He’d been in the sport for ages and was very decorated for someone so young.
He was also an asshole. I don’t just say this because he was an opponent. I’ve competed against, and coached against, lots of good people. But this was not a case of that. That kid was a privileged, and by privileged I mean spoiled, little shit. He was known throughout our sport as bully to anyone who was younger or less successful than he was. His rich dad paid for him to have the best training and all the opportunities he wanted, and it went to his head.
This was our opponent in the gold medal match. I walked out with my athlete, my athlete from a low-income immigrant family who had made it there despite not having half the resources of his opponent. Not to play that card or anything, but if this were a movie, we’d be the protagonists. Classic asshole rich kid from the big city versus underdog scenario. My kid had never faced this opponent before; they would meet for the first time this gold medal match.
After our walk in, we had a little time before the previous match ended and ours would start. My co-coach and I stood behind our athlete as he jumped up and down to stay warm, occasionally giving him an encouraging shoulder pat. I was nervous, but trying not to show it because I needed to show strength and self-belief for my athlete. It was one of the biggest matches I’ve ever coached.
During this time, my ridiculous six-foot-seven friend managed to get into our corner. I’m still not sure how that happened. He’s not supposed to be there. During the finals of this tournament, there are volunteers at the entrances to the competitive area who make sure the only people allowed on the floor are the athletes who are actually competing in the podium matches, their coaches, and the refs.
My friend had no business there, but he got onto the floor anyway. While we were in the corner and waiting for the match to start, he came up behind me. I turned to him, and unexpectedly, he pulled me into him. He bridged the foot-long gap in our height by leaning down, so his mouth was level with my ear. He said something that he did not want anyone but me to hear, and he made this happen by ensuring I was very close to him when he said it. There was face-to-face contact, with my friend and his potentially deadly respiratory disease.
This is what I remembered, a week later, when the world ended I realized my friend had definitely been afflicted by the virus that was killing people across the globe. Our hug at the beginning of the tournament – probably okay, it was quick and our faces were on different geographical planes. But there was also this other moment, at the end of the tournament, when he grabbed me before my athlete’s gold medal match to say something that no one else could hear. He got his COVID-laden breath so close to me. Fuck.
Do you want to know what the point of this post was? Why I started writing it and told all these stories? It’s because I wanted to share what he said to me. I wanted to share what caused me weeks of worry. A close friend of mine thought it was worth exposing me to a deadly virus for these words:
“Look, I don’t normally approve of showboating, but if your boy wins this match, he’d better make it rain.”
I barely looked at him as I said, “Don’t worry, we fucking will.” Because apparently I had gotten too caught up in the feeling that we were all in a movie to see how absurd that was.
We didn’t even win the fucking match. We gave the rich kid a good run for his money, a closer match than he’d gotten from anyone his own age and in his own country for a long time. My kid pushed him right to the final buzzer, and the score on which it ended was close. But we lost, and my kid ended up standing on a podium while the rich asshole’s coach (who is also a rich asshole) put a silver medal around his neck. Then we all went home, and my best friend/co-coach and I had a long discussion about how to tweak various aspects of that kid’s training to make sure he could beat the rich asshole at the next significant tournament, which should be in a few weeks. Then the world ended. That next significant tournament did not happen.
That’s the last thing I did before the world ended. Coached a high-stakes match at a big tournament that we ended up losing, but came out convinced we could win if given another chance. A match that was prefaced by some whispered words from a friend of mine that I would come to regret accepting, when I began to panic about any close contact I’d had with anyone who could be sick.
And I cannot emphasize enough that those words were: “Look, I don’t normally approve of showboating, but if your boy wins this match, he’d better make it rain.” Those were the words that had me scrambling with worry for two weeks about whether I’d caught the virus and might pass it along. I will never forget them. Were they worth it?
Honestly, yeah. They made me feel cool as hell. 10/10, would do again.
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