goalie things

omgcp characters as things I've done
  • inspired by like every omgcp blog
  • Bitty: got really pissed when no one would eat my peach tart and force fed it to my brother
  • Jack: Had my Queer Awakening(TM) while literally sitting in a closet
  • Holster: sang through the whole Hamilton soundtrack but replaced every "Alexander" with "Adam Sandler", "Hamilton" with "Camel toe", and "Smile more" with "Macklemore"
  • Ransom: Went on a 4am rant about how cool the ocean is and wound up crying
  • Shitty: got into a fight with a bunch of random ass fuckboys about the perks of being a stripper and wound up flashing them before angrily falling into a bush
  • Lardo: invited all my friends over and used them to help me paint space on my door
  • Johnson the Metaphysical Goalie: used my lucid dreaming to turn my friends into old people
  • Chowder: tried to flirt with a pretty girl but wound up sobbing over a dog in my friend's lap while she sat there and watched
  • Nursey: told my friend to chill while I was having a panic attack
  • Dex: stopped talking to my friend bc I realized I had gay feelings for them
  • Tango: started genuinely considering the possibility of Waluigi having feelings
  • Whiskey: Went to a party and spent the whole time being a cynical homosexual
  • Parse: painted a gay flag on my face and forced myself to cry so it would run
Let’s Talk about Snowy

This ended up really long but I have a lot of feelings about Snowy and the story we know nothing about. This is for @des-zimbits because she prompted the headcanon about Snowy I wrote earlier and encouraged me to write this. The people I’ve met in this fandom are incredible, and I’m so thankful to all of you because you’ve gotten me writing again?? 

So Snowy (his actual god given name is Kyle Brown, thank you very much) started out as a forward on his rink rats league on Vancouver Island, where he grew up with two older sisters and a mom and dad who fought a lot but were fundamentally happy. Mom taught school, dad played casual hockey, oldest sister played college hockey and middle sister curled. Their family was always on the ice and Kyle loved it. Sometime around the age of 9 coach shoved a goalie bucket on his head, strapped leg pads onto him, handed him a blocker and a glove and said “Son, you’re the best skater I have. You’re gonna play goalie.”

And thus, Goalie Snowy was born.

He played seriously through the levels and was drafted in the Bantam by the Vancouver Giants, which was a dream come true for a kid from the Island. He’d always dreamed of being a Canuck, and a Giant was a good place to start. His parents ended up moving from the Island to Vancouver so he could live at home, which he did for the two years he spent as the Giants backup goalie before he was dealt to Spokane, who needed a new number one. 

Kyle Brown was that number one.

He made goalie of the year for the WHL, he played three seasons with the Chiefs and helped them to two division wins and then he was drafted by the Ducks.

They kept him in Spokane for his overage season and then sent him to their farm team. Kyle spent a year and a half backing up the farm team before Panks got called up and Kyle moved into number one… After three years in the AHL the Duck’s number one retired after a bad injury and Kyle was once again called up to the NHL. It was a dream come true!

Except it sucked????????

He hated it. He hated the city, he disliked a lot of the guys on the team (A handful of them weren’t kind to him, while the other half was and the coach doubted him) and when he moved to California his long-time (four years and he had been hoping to propose soon) girlfriend decided that she couldn’t do the distance so they split. (Looking back he’s sure that everything just got heaped onto him at once, and without it he probably would have enjoyed his time with the Ducks just fine.) So when Panks had to be sat out, Snowy played.

But he wasn’t playing smart. He was angry, he was frustrated, and he was racking up penalty minutes for tripping and unsportsmanlike conduct. And those trips and shoves and angry words got him snowed more times than he could count in the next three years he spent in Anaheim. All it took was a sarcastic comment from coach about how Kyle must really miss the snow with all these guys sending it flying at his face for Panks to latch on and start calling his back up Snowy.

So he continues the season with slashes and hooks and trips and more of his guys in the penalty box on his behalf than he truly wanted, and the coach was pissed but with Panks out and Rexy letting in more shots than he saved, keeping Snowy in net was the only option. His anger won him no fans on his team.

He was angry at everything, including himself.

So the next season a few expansion teams were announced, Seattle, Las Vegas, Providence, and Snowy didn’t have his contract renewed by the Ducks and he was oddly okay with that? He met with a few teams but they weren’t looking for his playing style, and then he met with the Falcs GM and new coach who basically sat him down in the hotel bar, shoved a Sprite into his hands and said “Tell us why at your caliber you’ve been playing like a bus could drive into your net and all you’d do is try to slash it’s tires.”

So he told them everything. About how happy he was in the WHL, how much he loved his time in the AHL and how when he got permanently called up to the NHL, Sarah broke up with him and he was just constantly angry and unhappy and no one looked twice at him or believed in him, and even the coaches didn’t seem to care about how he was doing. 

“Basically,” he said, “I spent five years in the Duck’s system going systematically insane and pissing off each and every forward I could. Because I was angry and I took it out on others.”

By now he knows that wasn’t healthy at all, and he’s ashamed and embarrassed, he’s nearing 26 now, he should know better, but the coach and the GM go off and talk and come back over with an offer.

They tell him they need locker room leadership and they’ve already got Snipes, but they need someone a bit younger than 35 to step up. They need an offensive and play-minded goalie, but they need a goalie without the anger. They tell him that they’ll sign him for two years and play him at least half the games both seasons as long as he can prove he deserves it. As long as he talks to their sports therapist and sets up regular meetings, finds a constructive outlet for his anger and stops taking cheap shots on forwards and taking stupid penalties.

Snowy cries when he signs that contract because someone is giving him another chance to make things good and to chase his dreams. A chance to be the goalie he wants to be, not the dick he’s been for the past couple of years.

He packs up his dingy apartment twelve blocks from Disneyland and spends a week in a car with his dad driving to Providence. On his new salary he ends up in a really nice apartment with a guy they signed from the Islanders and a spare room for guests. He and Smithy get along great and slowly the rest of their inaugural team trickles into the city and into their locker room. Jersey designs are finalized and printed and handed out, and the guys spend weeks bonding on and off the ice.

Suddenly, Snowy’s back on a team like the ones he had in the WHL and in the AHL, a group of guys he might not love 100% of the time, but come hell, high water and Sidney Crosby’s ability to score, he’ll have their backs and they will have his. Pre-seasons rolls around and he gets snowed a couple times, and Snipes (Who has the C) tells the locker room during first intermission the story of why Snowy is Snowy. There’s laughs, but there’s also a falc in front of him to ward off opposition who wants to snow him from there on out. It’s a warning that they won’t take anyone messing with Snowy, and that message starts to spread across the league.

He’s thankful.

He’s talking to Carol once a week, he takes up cross-fit for pent up energy and has Smithy teach him how to kick box. He and Smithy find a cat in the parking lot after a game and take her home and name her Robin, and Snowy starts casually dating again. He smiles a lot more, his profanity isn’t used in anger anymore, it’s just how Snowy talks.

He proves he’s worth the number one position, he helps take Canada to a Silver medal at the Olympics and when Tater joins the team fresh from Russia, Snowy takes him under his wing. He likes Tater, likes that Tater chirps him and doesn’t take his crap and gives him a hard time, and he’s just content. His saves are up, his goals against average is down and every time he steps on the ice he’s smiling and making smart decisions.

He makes the All-Star team a few years later and goes up against Crosby in the shoot-out challenge and he’s hysterically laughing in the crease at Crosby’s antics and when he goes back to center ice with tears in his eyes Crosby smacks his pads and grins at him because Crosby isn’t just a good hockey player, he’s a good captain and he knows unhappy hockey players when he sees them. He could see it and he’s pleased as fucking punch that Snowy’s smiling and loving hockey again. (Snowy is touched and they become friends and hang out in the off season and the Penguins don’t snow him anymore, and any team a Penguin is traded to stops snowing him as well.)

When Jack comes along, Snowy doesn’t quite understand what Jack went through in the Q, but he knows all about being let down by a system that isn’t designed to catch people. He’s thankful Tater takes an interest in their new kid, and he tries to keep tabs on him. When Jack tentatively brings up backing mental health in hockey on a plane ride, Snowy takes a deep breath and stands up and tells his team the story he plays close to his chest. He explains how not having that support nearly destroyed his career and that mental support is just as important as nutritional and physical support. 

(Carol casually mentions an increase in monthly visits by the team to him a few sessions later. She says it’s mostly just teaching stress techniques and listening as an impartial 3rd party, but that she thinks that someone must have stepped up and said something to fight the stigma. Once again Snowy is fucking proud to be a Falc.)

(And five seasons later when they win the Stanley Cup with Snowy only letting in one goal against the Ducks, Captain Zimmboni hands Snowy that trophy and he raises it over his head and he thanks every hockey god he knows for this shitty, convoluted path that led him to his dream come true. He passes it to Tater and skates over to the bench where families are converging and takes a little bundle from his wife. How sweet this victory is, he thinks. He has his family, his brothers and he just beat the team that didn’t believe in him to win the Stanley Cup.)

Later, at the after party, Johnson could be overheard loudly stating that Snowy only played in the WHL because the author has a connection to that league, and that his backstory was probably more tragic than it needed to be and that his longtime girlfriend and he only broke up to cause more emotional turmoil for his character, but she likes happy endings so Snowy was basically guaranteed a Stanley Cup, but then the one with the mustache smacked him and met Snowy’s eyes and went “Goalies are fucking weird, bro. Why do I get them drunk?” and Snowy just grinned and fist bumped him because yeah, goalies were fucking weird.


No one in New Rome takes Frank seriously as a praetor during the first few weeks; he’s still shy and awkward after his growth spurt, and even though he knows he’s a good fighter after training so much with Jason on the Argo, you are more likely find him in the archery fields than the arena (where Reyna is the undefeated champ). In summary, they don’t consider him a worthy champion of Rome. After how threatening Reyna can be when she wants to, Frank is just a teddy bear with cape.

That all changes after a “friendly” match of ice-hockey (who knew New Rome had an ice rink?). Not only does Frank’s team wipe the floor with Michael Kahale’s, but said captain (who is still a head taller than the praetor and twice as muscular) ends up with a broken nose, three bruised ribs and a gap where his front teeth used to be. When asked about it afterwards Frank just shrugs and says “well, what was he expecting? He pushed our goalie, Bobby almost fell on the ground!”

After that everyone in New Rome consider him (almost) as scary as Reyna and bow whenever in his presence. He finds it ridiculous, but both Hazel and Reyna tell him not to get worked up about it.

(He and Michael end up initiating a fluttering bromance after his ribs heal that only beating your face in over sports can create.)

The (Metaphysical) Ace of Hearts

Hey @gadelingsofthegalaxy this, in all it’s weird, ridiculous, cracky shipping glory, is for you. Thanks for writing little AU stories in messages with me and for being pretty rad and for listening to me whine and for letting me drag you down the rarepair rabbit hole. (And thanks for just telling me YES when I mentioned that I wanted to write this. I appreciate you.)

Kent doesn’t know what to think about the goalie they drafted out of the NCAA.. Sure, he knows that John Johnson played with Jack at Samwell, was a pretty decent guy between the pipes, but honestly, other than that he had very little information. As the captain of the Aces he always tried to get to know a bit about the back-stories of his new team-mates, so he can ask a veteran who’ll get along with the new guy to keep an eye out. 

But other than finding out that Johnson has a bachelors degree in some kind of science and seems to have been born in New York, Kent really doesn’t learn much. He shrugs it off and decides that he’ll take the rookie on. 

He hopes John Johnson likes cats.

The first time he meets Johnson, Kent shakes his hand and is immediately two parts confused, one part intrigued and then there’s that one part of him that’s like This guy is weird. I like him.

You can’t really blame Kent for this conclusion, the first thing that John ever said to him was “Wow, can’t believe my narrative is getting me NHL ice time. Honestly I was resigned to being in the background, you know? It’s kind of exciting every time I get my own story.” to which Kent replied, wittily of course, “Same, bro?” and laughed before slinging an arm around the rookie’s shoulders and dragging him into the locker room to get him set up in his stall.

Honestly Kent thinks that having Johnson on the team is pretty fun. The dude is weird as shit, often talking about how ‘outside the narrative’ their lives are, and about how the stats ‘only matter in relation to the bigger picture’ and to be clear, Kent doesn’t understand it all. 

But he laughs and grabs John by the arm and drags him back onto the ice for more practice anyways. 

It’s like 11:45 on a Tuesday night in the middle of Vegas where instead of hitting up one of the nice bars on the strip, Kent and John drove about an hour to a little hole in the wall sports bar that has the best burgers they’ve ever tasted. How Johnson knew about this place after only being in Vegas for a handful of months? Kent never asked. 

John would probably say it was all relative to whoever was writing their story. 

Instead, they sit and watch the Islanders play the Schooners on the tv behind the bar and nurse local beers, and after a couple of drink he lets himself lean on Johnson’s arm. 

It’s nice to have a friend.

They don’t make it to the playoffs that season, which is like a punch to the gut for Kent. They’ve made it every year since he started playing in the desert, and a bad string of injuries (Including himself twisting his knee, knocking him out for almost three weeks) threw them out of the running. 

He mopes for a couple days, but when John shows up at the door to his condo with two large baja blasts and a bag of Taco Bell, he lets him in. 

Around two in the morning (it’s been silent for the past hour and a half or so as they watch Say Yes To The Dress reruns) John nudges Kent with his foot. Blue eyes meet hazel and Johnson says, “It wasn’t in the plot for this year, Kent. Next year though? I think we’re gonna do better.”

Kent tosses him the other end of the blanket he keeps on the couch and tucks his head back onto the pillow. 

Sometimes he wonders if… Nah, people can’t actually see the future. 

The next season they make it into the division finals, and they’re tied at 2 with two minutes left in the third. Coach M calls for their time out and tells Kent and Swoops to get out there with Jordy, sliding Dales and Gerds onto defense behind them. 

Time out is over. 

Kent turns to Johnson and taps the top of his bucket with his gloved hand, knocking their helmets together for a second. 

“You’re gonna do great, Kenny.” “So’re you, J.”

Swoops gets him the puck, he wheels, fakes a pass back to Gerds at the blue line, gets around the forward who has been dogging him this shift and shoots. 

Low, glove side, by the post..

it goes in before the goalie can drop himself onto the ice and block it. 


They win and Kent is the first person off the bench as the buzzer sounds, and he slams into John, both of them shouting at the top of their lungs with joy. 

As the rest of the team piles onto them in celebration, hazel eyes meet blue. 

“I knew it was gonna go in.” Johnson says, almost too soft for Kent to hear, “It was in the plot of your story, Kenny. You’re meant to be one of the great ones.”

Kent doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just knocks their helmets together one last time and withdraws from the dog-pile and gets into place in the line-up to shake hands. 

It echoes in his mind, You’re meant to be one of the great ones.

They end up going against the Falcs for the cup. Jack’s a rookie, and Kent has played with a handful of the guys on that team over the years. Snowy played in the WHL and went to Worlds with him, Marty was picked up in the Falcs expansion draft after being picked up from Boston when the Aces expanded. Kent and Tater played against each other in the last Olympics, Thirdy too. 

It goes to game seven, of course. And the night before find him and Johnson side by side at the same little dingy sports bar from the year before. 

“How d’you think this game is gonna go, J?” Kent asks, nursing a glass of water. No drinking, no going off diet, but this place is nice to just… Unwind. 

John starts and turns on his stool, knocking their knees together. Kent doesn’t think he’s seen this look on John’s face before.. He looks.. Confused? A little afraid? 

“I’m not really sure, Kenny.” Kent smiles and leans against John’s shoulder. The next comment is another classically odd Johnson phrase, “Is this what it’s like to be the main character of a story?”

Kent looks at him questioningly. 

“I’m not sure what the future holds anymore.” John says softly. “I normally have at least an idea of where the plot, where the characters in the story are going.”

Kent smiles at him, bumps their shoulders together. “Yeah, I think this is what it’s like.”

The Falcs win, which John later says he should have seen coming. Apparently it was in Jack and Bitty’s story line. Kent just shrugs and hides a smile, tossing an arm around his goalie. 

It was a good run and the Falcs played hard. So did the Aces. There’s no shame in going down fighting.

It’s close to sunrise in the middle of July on a beach in California a couple years later when Kent nudges John with his knee from where they’re sharing a blanket and a cup of coffee and a muffin. 

They’ve shared a lot more than that, these past few years. A cup win, laughter, comments that almost break the fourth wall, friendships.. And… Love. 

They’ve shared a lot of love.

“Hey. Remember when you said you weren’t sure what the future was gonna hold for you?” he asks, leaning back on his hands, digging his fingers into the cool sand as the sky starts to shift from deep blue to bright, vibrant hues.

John nods from where he leans comfortably against Kent’s shoulder, coffee warming his fingers. 

“What if it held me? Us? I like our story, I like our plot. And I’d like another chapter to start. I don’t know where the story will be taking us, J, but I’d rather find out the plot line with you. When my story ends, J, I want you to have been starring in it with me.” 

Kent later swears that the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen was the smile that spread across John’s face at that very moment. And Kent has hoisted three Stanley cups, held his baby niece and watched Jack and Bitty marry. 

“Our very own story.” John replies, slinging an arm around Kent’s waist, as Kent slides his arm around John’s shoulders. “With me and you as the main characters… Yeah, I think I’d like that AU, Kenny. I think I’d like that a lot.”

OMGCP characters as things I've done
  • Bitty: baked a croquembouche for christmas, is still salty at every relative who ate the store-bought cake instead
  • Jack: cancelled an appointment with a therapist to talk about my anxiety because I'd have to miss school, which would give me more anxiety
  • Holster: wrote an angry ukulele song about people who talk to you when you have headphones on, sent it to everyone I know
  • Ransom: agreed to be on the entomology team for science olympiad only when the other people promised to learn about the gross bugs
  • Chowder: cried thinking about a trailer for a movie with a dog in it
  • Lardo: photoshopped all her friends onto the body of the bee from bee movie
  • Shitty: taught a dude basic feminist theory during a free period over the course of several months
  • Tango: became an expert on the accent maps of north america via wikipedia in one night
  • Johnson: telling my best friend that her life is a sitcom, where the writers were messing with her and major life events were plot twists

So I don’t know if they mentioned this on TV I still haven’t went back and watched the broadcast, whoops, but at the Stars @ Rangers game in February Cam Talbot had left his water bottle behind when they switched sides for overtime. Kari had brought his own bottle with him, switched it out, and then rolled Talbot’s back down the ice with a cute little, “That’s yours” gesture with his stick.