Origins and meanings of lastnames in NHL (pt. 1)
  • Abdelkader, Justin—Maghrebi: from Arabic “Abd al-Qadir” (=servant of the capable, powerful)
  • Bozak, Tyler—Croatian: from “Božak” a derivative of the first name Božidar (=God’s gift)
  • Demers, Jason—Old French: (=of the seas) *note: Jason means healer in Greek, so combined it‘s: healer of the seas
  • Drouin, Jonathan—French: from “Drago” probably a Saxon masculine first name (=ghost)
  • Fleury, Marc-André—French and Dutch: from “Fleur” a feminine first name (=flower)
  • Forsberg, Filip—Swedish: from “fors + berg” (=mountain waterfall)
  • Gallagher, Brendan—Gaelic: from “gallach er” (=brave man)
  • Hanifin, Noah—Irish and Gaelic: from “Ó hAinbhthín” (=descendant of the storm)
  • Josi, Roman—Sanskrit, Hindi-like language: from “joshi” (=astronomer)
  • Kessel, Phil—Old German: from “kezzel” –occupational name for a maker of copper cooking vessels
  • Laine, Patrik—Estonian: from “Laine” a feminine first name (=wave)
  • Larkin, Dylan—Mediaval English: a diminutive from “Laurence” a first name (=person living in Laurentum, a city in ancient Italy)
  • Lucic, Milan—Croatian and Serbian: from “Lučić” a patronymic name of Lukas—Lucas
  • MacKinnon, Nathan—Scottish: from Gaelic “Mac Fhionghuin” (=fair son)
  • Marchand, Brad—Old French: from “merchant” (=buyer and seller of goods—Latin)
  • Marner, Mitch—Mediaval French: from “marinier” –a Norman sailor plundering ports
  • McDavid, Connor—Scottish and Irish: from “MacDaibheid” (=son of saint David)
  • Niskanen, Matt—Finnish: from “niska” (=neck) in past applied as a nickname for stubborn person or a person living on mountain ridge
  • Price, Carey—Welsh: from “ap Rhys” (=son of enthusiasm)
  • Reinhart, Sam—German and Jewish: from “ragin + hardt” (=brave consuel)
  • Seguin, Tyler—French: “séguin” from a Germanic first name “segi + wine” (=friend of victory)
  • Tkachuk, Matthew—Ukrainian and Jewish: from “tkach” (=weaver)
  • Toews, Jonathan—German: from “Töws/Tews” a short form of old German first name Matthäus
  • Zuccarello, Mats—Italian: a diminutive of “zuccaro” (=sugar) it’s a nickname for sweet person or sweets seller
Laundry Mat Romance

Pairings: Crowley x Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count:444


You were shoving piles of wet clothing into an industrial sized dryer, cursing the Winchester boys for always waiting until their last clean pair of boxer before demanding nicely that you needed to spend the day doing launder when the sound of fancy dress shoes approached from the front of the poorly lit dreary laundry mat.

“Go away, Crowley.” You groaned as you picked up the last small pile from the basket and tossing it in with the rest of the clothes. “I’m not in the mood.” You heard his shoes stop as you stood on your tip toes to put the quarters in the machine. With a simple snap the quarters were removed from the machine, the clothes were folded and dry and you were left still standing in front of the dryer.

“I was wondering if you would join me for dinner this evening. I have a proposition for you.” You rolled your eyes as you placed your feet flat on the floor and walked over to the table, grabbing the laundry bags and beginning the task of putting the piles of clothes into them.

“What is it?” You asked without looking at him; knowing that you would blush harder than you already where if you did. You heard his shoes on the cheap linoleum once more as he walked around to force you to look at him.

“Ahh. Why spoil the fun of dinner first.” You shook your head and looked back at the task at hand before Crowley’s hand found your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. “Darling, can we stop with the act. We are both aware that the only reason you fight this is so you don’t upset them.” Your face turned bright red as you yanked away from Crowley’s grip.

“Don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” Before you could blink, he was beside you, pulling your hips flush against his and looking down at you with desire. Without even thinking about it, you gave in and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him to you in a cruising kiss. You moaned as his tongue danced with yours for only a teasing moment before he pulled away to admire you.

“Are we done lying to ourselves, dove?” he asked and you nodded as you grabbed the table next to you for support. “I’ll pick you up around seven then, love.” You didn’t even have the chance to blink before he disappeared. A small smile spread across your face as you dragged your fingertips across your bottom lip, grateful that you finally got the chance to know what his lips felt like against yours.


Keep reading