Anaheim Ducks: You turn on a Ducks game. The screen is white. It must be Ryan Getzlaf’s bald head, you think. You’re probably right.
Arizona Coyotes: You accidentally call them the Phoenix Coyotes. No one corrects you. You’ve never encountered someone with them as their favorite team.
Boston Bruins: Chara checks someone into the boards. That someone disappears into thin air. You wonder if they keep a list of people Chara has made disappear like that.
Buffalo Sabres: You constantly forget about their existence. Would they be more relevant if they had won the draft lottery and had gotten McDavid, you think sometimes. You forget about them again.
Calgary Flames: A Flames game gets interrupted. Someone yells that there’s a child on the ice. It turns out to be Johnny Gaudreau. Gaudreau eats a Snickers on the bench, and scores.
Carolina Hurricanes: The Canes are down 6-0. Jeff Skinner smiles at a ref. The Canes are up 6-0.
Chicago Blackhawks: Chelsea Dagger starts playing in the distance. Oh no. You start running. The music gets louder. Someone yells: “3 cups in 6 years”. You’re crying. You can’t hide.
Colorado Avalanche: Someone on their roster scores. You must be dreaming. They get a win. This can’t be real, you think. The world must be ending.
Columbus Blue Jackets: You blankly stare at the TV. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve heard the cannon by now. You stopped counting after 10. Your team still hasn’t scored.
Dallas Stars: There’s a fan crying. “Our goalie situation is shit,” they sob. Another fan rubs their back. “At least Tyler Seguin is still hot,” they say. You roll your eyes.
Detroit Red Wings: You hear someone cursing Dylan Larkin. “Why can’t he score,” you hear them say. Crying, they cuddle up to their Yzerman hugging pillow.
Edmonton Oilers: “McDavid sucks,” someone says. Ten Oilers fans and Milan Lucic appear from nowhere. “You suck,” Lucic says and punches them.
Florida Panthers: There’s a ceremony before the game. Jagr is turning 70. Jagr scores the OT winner.
Los Angeles Kings: You make eye contact with Anze Kopitar. He looks dead inside. You nod at each other. What is Kopitar losing fate in, you think. You still relate to him.
Minnesota Wild: The Wild has a 10 win streak. It ends in a 0-1 loss to an irrelevant team. They start a new 10 win streak.
Montreal Canadiens: Carey Price breaks all his limbs. Therrien doesn’t pull him. Shea Weber positions himself on the ice. Al Montoya tells Weber to take the shot while maintaining eye contact with Therrien. Weber shoots. They hire their rivals’ old coach. You wonder if god is real.
Nashville Predators: You meet a fan. They’re crying. “How are you?” you ask. They keep sobbing. You notice they’re wearing a Weber jersey. You understand.
New Jersey Devils: You watch a Devils game. You can’t remember the score after it. You’re only convinced that Adam Henrique is not real.
New York Islanders: John Tavares gives an interview. He’s more plain and boring than you remembered. You can’t stop watching though.
New York Rangers: Henrik Lundqvist stops the game to have a photoshoot. The play continues. He’s not in the net. He makes a save. You don’t understand.
Ottawa Senators: “Ottawa Senators,” someone says. You have to think for a while. You remember Erik Karlsson. That’s it.
Philadelphia Flyers: No one has seen Jakub Voracek’s face in five years. His beard and hair just keep growing. No one knows how to stop the growth.
Pittsburgh Penguins: Someone accidentally says “Crosby.” In a minute, there’s someone with a peach emoji. You hear the words Phil Kessel is a Stanley Cup Champion at least once a day.
San Jose Sharks: Someone on their roster scores four times. Joe Thornton is somewhere, stroking himself. Despite the lead, Martin Jones sits on the bench with dead eyes.
St. Louis Blues: Tarasenko scores. Tarasenko scores again. You wonder if anyone else ever scores for them.
Tampa Bay Lightning: No one has seen Steven Stamkos in years. People wish for his return. No one expect nothing though.
Toronto Maple Leafs: “Matthews is better than Laine,” someone says. You keep quiet. It doesn’t matter if you agree. You’ll get attacked either way.
Vancouver Canucks: Henrik and Daniel Sedin have assisted each other in every goal they’ve scored. You don’t believe they’re two different people until you see them in person. Even after that you’re doubtful.
Washington Capitals: Ovechkin is in his spot. Everyone sees him, no one defends him. He shoots, he scores. In the distance, someone says: “Crosby is better.”
Winnipeg Jets: “Laine is better than Matthews,” someone says. You keep quiet. It doesn’t matter if you agree. You’ll get attacked either way.
Warnings: handjob, fingering, just generally cringey stuff- yknow, the usual
Summary: After getting evicted, your two best friends Jimin and Taehyung offer you a place to stay until you get back on your feet. Needless to say, with a part time job and a mountain of student debt, that’s not happening any time soon. Eventually, they DO become really fond of having you around, helping with chores and even splitting rent. So when you come home one day to find someone has been sleeping in your couch-bed, well… it’s something you won’t take lightly.
Word Count: 7.9k
Out of context Goldilocks quote: “If I didn’t know that you used that atrocity to jerk off, I’d ask if I could have it.”
It takes a few minutes to get Jungkook to the car, but you finally coax him into the passenger’s seat. His cheek is already blotchy red, spiderwebbed with vivid crimson. It looks like his father doesn’t pull punches.
Scurrying back to the front of the apartment complex, you pick up the textbook you’d abandoned earlier before slipping into the small liquor store to grab the first thing you can out of the freezer section. Only when you’re purchasing it and get carded do you realize it’s alcohol. Hard cider. Perfect. Two birds, one stone.
Getting back into the driver’s seat, you hand Jungkook the bottle.
He looks like he wants to throw it back at you, but you hastily explain, “Put it on your cheek until we can get you an ice pack.”
“I’m not gonna-”
Jungkook presses the cold glass to his face, grumbling, but not loud enough that you can retort to any of it. The drive back to Jimin and Taehyung’s apartment is silent. You don’t really need directions anymore and you don’t have the energy or the desire to start a conversation. Apparently he doesn’t either.
What is there to say anyway? “Hey Jungkook, that sucks that your dad punched you?” Or “Sorry he’s an alcoholic?” Or maybe: “did you do something to piss him off because I think you’re an asshole and will project that image onto other parts of your life that you may or may not be responsible for or have control over?”
After parking, you lead the way up to the apartment door and immediately steer Jungkook into the kitchen, where you sit him down and none too gently press an ice pack to his face. You may have helped him with his textbook, but that doesn’t mean you’re about to make friendship bracelets and sing Kumbaya around a campfire. You take the bottle of hard cider from him and open it quickly, taking a swig.
The house is quiet.
From what you can see, Yoongi and Jimin have left the living room. Where have they gone? It’s not really your business, but you will have questions for the younger man later. As of now, you have questions for someone else.
You turn to Jungkook.
He probably won’t answer many, if any of them, but with your scalp aching from where Jungkook’s father had grabbed the hair at the back of your head, you’re hoping he’ll at least be able to tell you what’s going on.
Of course, his immediate response is, “It’s none of your fucking business.”
“Look, that man attacked me and I think I have a right to know why.”
Jungkook shifts his weight in the chair, scowling, “I already told you, I fucked a random girl in-”
“No, both you and I know that was bullshit,” you retort. “So take a moment, stop acting twelve, be a man, be vulnerable, and tell me why I got assaulted over a damn textbook.”
The golden haired boy’s gaze stays pinned on his feet, eyebrows knitted, looking like a chastised child. The silence sits heavily in the room. You don’t move. You don’t look away.
Jungkook finally mumbles, “My mom is filing for a divorce.”
This type of fan seemingly forgets about hockey till it’s the playoffs and then they come bursting out of their holes to cheer on their team.
2. “You’re not a real fan if you don’t….”
This type of fan sets a standard that every other fan must follow or else they’re not an actual hockey fan. (We all know one of these and secretly imagine strangling them).
3. “I only cheer for my team when they’re doing good.”
This type of fan is often called a ‘bandwagoner (mostly by the #2 fan above) and only seems to watch/talk about hockey when their team is kicking ass.
4. “Did you know in 1923 hockey player (fill in the blank) did (fill in the blank)?”
This type of fan is Pierre McGuire, a little weird, a little annoying, but mostly a good source of hockey knowledge.
5. “Your team sucks, mine is better because –”
This type of hockey fan is literally everywhere and can be quoted as hating other teams for big things like a dirty play or small things like hitting your goalies waterbottle (often comes from a team who hasn’t made the playoffs in over a decade and is struggling with acceptance).
6. “I don’t like the players on that team but I don’t mind the fans.”
This type of fans is basically the opposite of aggressively hating fan (see below). These fans will normally just hang out and chat about hockey no matter what team/league.
7. “Say my team sucks and I will punch you in the neck.”
This type of fan is aggressive in their love of their team and will fight anyone who disagrees (maintain eye contact and back away slowly). These are by far the worst fans.
Genre: Smut Word Count: 5100ish words Oppa needs a good kitten.
A/N: So Im gonna be honest here and say I did not reread this cuz I promised it would be up tonight, so I’ll go back over it, edit it, make it better, and add a gif later. But here you guys go, please enjoy. I’m going the fuck to sleep because its 5:30am and I have work in two hours. You can thank the mother fucking cameraman for Music Bank, as well as my sunshine because mother of god, Hoseok, keep your goddam hands off your fucking cock while on live television, I swear to god -
It took the entire trip the bedroom plus the time in between
being shoved against a wall and feeling Hoseok’s teeth on the flushed skin of
your neck for you to come to terms with the fact that this was actually happening. Previous episode on
the couch notwithstanding, you were actually about play with Jung Hoseok.
"So you’ve been out of high school for like thirteen years.“ "If your life had a face, I would punch it.” "Are you really happy or just really evil?“ "Before you hear some dirty lies from someone else, yes, I’m dating a 17 year old." "You’re totally my bitch forever." "That gossipy bitch.” "Are you legitimately moving on, or is this just you being insane?“ "You’re too good for him. Run.” "Does that mean we can make out?“ "We don’t use the E-word in this house.” "Weren’t you supposed to take your fake high-school girlfriend to the library an hour ago?“ "At least it’ll give us something to complain about.” "I have to go pee due to boredom. "I’ll leave you alone forever now.“ "Dude, she’s totally real!” "She’s got some battle scars, dude.“ "Guess who’s drunk!” "Can I pretend we’re talking about a guy?“ "Amazon.ca. What’s the website for that?” "It’s amazing what we can do with computers these days.“ "Great story, man.” "I forgot you guys don’t have those in Canada.“ "I think ’act of God’ is a pretty decent excuse for a lousy date.” "Did I say date? Slip of the tongue.“ "I reserve the right to change my mind about the sex later.” "Wow. Girl number.“ "Is that seriously the end of the story?” "Watch out! It’s that one guy!“ "Didn’t you get my email explaining the situation?” "Pirates are in this year.“ "Sweet! Coins." "Tell your gay friends I said bye." "So, what you’re saying right now is that we’re dating?” "I don’t want you gaying up the place.“ "I didn’t make up the gay handbook. If you have problem with it, take it up with Liberace’s ghost.” "You suck. Surprising no one.“ "I was thinking we should break up. Or whatever.” "Can’t believe you worried about me gaying up the place.“ "Bread makes you fat?!” "She dumped him. It was brutal.“ "I sort of feel like I’m on drugs when I’m with you.” "I want to have his adopted babies.“ "We had drama. Or maybe it was math. I just remember there being a lot of drama.” "The only thing keeping me and her apart is the two minutes it’s gonna take to kick your ass.“ "Some kind of competish you are.” "Ask him how it feels to always get his sloppy seconds.“ "You know what really sucks? Everything." "You punched me in the boob!” "Is there anywhere you don’t work?!“ "I hear the girl who kicked your heart in the ass is walking the streets of Toronto again." "I don’t think anything can get in the way of how I—SHIT.” "You left me for someone I’ve never even seen.“ "Is the news that we suck? Because I don’t think I can take it." "She has to go. She knows we suck.” "Did I fucking stutter?“ "I like your outfit. Affordable?" "I’m not afraid to hit a girl. I’m a rock star." "He punched the highlights out of her hair! "You cocky cock! You’ll pay for your crimes against humanity!" "Short answer: being vegan just makes you better than most people." "I’ve dabbled in being a bitch.” "Don’t you talk to me about grammar.“ "Sounds like someone wants to get funky." "It’s milk and eggs, bitch.” "Sorry? You just headbutted my boyfriend so hard he burst.“ "For the record. I’m so pissed off for you right now.” "So far, you’re not a total ass.“ "Well, honey, I’m a little bifurious.” "Back off, hasbien.“ "Kick her in the balls!” "I don’t think I can hit a girl. They’re soft.“ "Fight your own battles, lazy ass!” "Your BF is about to get effed in the B.“ "You’re just another evil ex waiting to happen." "Not only do I want to take part, I want to take them apart.” "Your bad is saying ‘My bad.’“ "I’m in lesbians with you.” "Presumably, you just saw some guy’s junk, and I apologize for that.“ "What a perfect asshole. Forget what I said earlier. Finish him.” "There’s no use crying over spilled coke, buddy.“ "You can cheat on these ladies all you like, but you can’t cheat death.” "You made me swallow gum. It’s gonna be in my digestive track for seven years!“ "I should thank you though. For being the nicest guy I ever dated.” "I’ll be fine. I’m too cool for you anyway.“
The clock on the wall ticked noisily as you stood in front of the class and held your paper in your hand. You cleared your throat and spoke with clarity. “Aphrodite was not just a goddess of beauty. No, she was something more than that. Something dangerous”
You slipped the bottle in a black bag and tied off the end. Your heels clacked against the pavement on the way back to your car. The plan went accordingly.
“She could move through the day with ease, playing the world with a smile or a light giggle. While at night, she would concoct terrible things and see it through until the end”
Lydia jumped once she closed her locker and saw your face. Her shock went away and she turned to walk down the hall. “I hear you’re having a party” “Not sure where you heard that from” “You’re Lydia, you are always throwing a party” “True, what’s it to you? I thought you hated my guts” “I do,” you pulled on her elbow to stop her from walking. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends” “I’m confused” “Of course you are, listen, I want help you out with your party” “And why would I let you?” “Because Lydia,” you stepped forward until you were inches away from her face. She gasped when you caressed her cheek in a gentle manner. “Word around school is you’re the crazy girl who likes to walk through the woods naked and scream in your car during school hours. No one wants to befriend the school nutcase, which leaves me. If people hear that I’m going to your party, they’ll want to come for sure. So ask yourself girl-who-doesn’t-have-many-friends, what have you got to lose?”
“Her beauty is used to liquefy the mind and shape it into whatever form she wants it to be. This goddess if famous, sure, but no knows how powerful she truly is”
You finished adding decorations to the room and climbed down from the stool. “What is there to drink?” Lydia shrugged her shoulders and waved a paper around. “Punch?” Lydia got to making the punch while you roamed outside. A patch of blue flowers caught your attention and an idea formed in your head. You returned half an hour later to an exasperated Lydia. “Where have you been?! The guests will be here any second” “Relax, I went to go get something for the punch” You shook the bag of wolfsbane and walked past her to the kitchen. You started pouring it into the bowl. “What is that?” You expected her to be more surprised but she seemed strangely calm. “It’s something I heard online. These flowers make any drink taste amazing. But don’t try it, I’m afraid you might go for seconds the third and we’ll have to nothing to serve the party” The doorbell tore her attention away from you, turning on her heel to answer it. A large group of people stood at the door, peering inside. Lydia widened her eyes then stepped aside to let them in. They paraded through, heading straight for the pool area. You handed everyone a drink with a smile.
“Aphrodite is a goddess to be feared and respected. A warrior under silk robes and pleasant fragrance. She is…Beauty”
Jackson took a swig of drink and played with Scott’s mind. He talked to Allison, trying to piss him off so he can show everyone what a freak he was. He got bored with conversation then walked away from her. As he finished the rest of his drink, Jackson saw a blue top from the side of his eye and immediately recognized as Y/N. She whisked around the corner. She was so beautiful. He remembered the first time he met her. Sweet. A smile formed on his lips as he thought more about it but it quickly vanished when he remembered the day he cheated on her with Lydia. Lydia… He had to get his key but he also wanted to talk to Y/N. When he turned the corner, Jackson saw something that made him want to cry, punch a wall, scream, and vomit. Scott gripped Y/N’s waist, snaking his fingers up her shirt. She had her arms wrapped around his neck, leaving enough space for him to kiss all over her neck. Y/N moaned out his name along with a breathy moan that pissed Jackson off. He launched himself at Scott only for him to walk into a door. “What the hell?!” Lydia opened her door and crossed her arms. “What is wrong with–Jackson?” He rolled his eyes and walked away. Lydia chased after him. “Please don’t go, I just want to talk to you” “Don’t, it’s pathetic” “What did I even do? You won’t talk to me, call, text, and now you won’t even look at me? I demand a reason” Jackson stopped and Lydia bumped into him. “You demand a reason?” he snorted. “I don’t care what you want and you don’t tell me what to do. Besides, I’m only here to get my key back” “A key? You came back for a key?!” The clearing of someone’s throat the both of their attention. Y/N leaned against the door frame with a nail in between her teeth. “We ran out of punch” Lydia sucked in a breath and turned away from him, “let yourself out, Jackson” She hauled over to the kitchen, you following close behind. “Wow, the flowers too?” “No, I threw it into the garbage. You must always start with fresh flowers” “I’ll get them, make sure the house is intact” “Sure thing”
The party grew into an uproar. They were throwing things, curling up into a ball, and finding anyone to make out or have sex with. You took a sip of your water and watched everyone freak out. The phone in your hand was warm and nice to the touch. The cops would be arriving in ten minutes. The neighbors seemed to have made a complaint about the obnoxious noise. You smirked at your terrible deed. Two jocks looked in your direction, smacking their lips. Boys, when will they learn? You walked over to them and started flirting. “Hey, everyone’s jumping in the pool, maybe that kid over there should loosen up” The jocks huffed and nodded in agreement. They waltzed over to the photographer obsessed with Alison named Matt. “Come on man, have some fun!” Matt started freaking out at the immediate contact, “no, please, don’t!” “It’s just a little water, kid” The taller one grabbed his legs while the bigger guy hooked his arms underneath Matt’s. “Stop! I can’t swim, please, help me!” The boys threw the poor kid into the water and everyone watched him flail around for dear life. Finally, Jackson reached in and pulled him out. Matt shot daggers at Stiles and Scott from across the pool. You shoved on your helmet and drove past the flashing red and blue lights heading in the direction you left.
The moon looked beautiful at this time. So full and so bright. You played with your hair while sitting by the window, thinking about all the wrong you had done tonight.
Time went by and you took the time to do your late night ritual before going off to bed. Could Matt really not swim? Drowning a boy wasn’t how you thought the night would go but it did. “So that’s how you stalled” You jumped up from under your covers and turned on the lamp beside your bed. “Thought you wouldn’t make it” You ran up to the man and wrapped your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. He didn’t hug you back, he kept his arms to his sides and stared ahead. Once you pulled back he met your disappointing gaze. “Not much of a hugger” “I wouldn’t imagine any of the Hale boys are. What took you so long?” “Well I’m sorry I couldn’t come back from the dead any quicker” “Apology accepted. What now?” He smiled on the inside. She was truly an interesting person. She demanded things and knew what she wanted. There was always the persuading to get her to comply but she met requirements. “Patience, little puppy, things take time. You know I’ll call when I need you” “Peter, don’t leave. You need a shower and food to consume. I have both” Before he could make leave, Y/N moved over to the hallway closet to grab some towels and extra clothes for him to wear. Peter took them without arguing, heading into the bathroom.
A sweet smell of steak and bare ribs drifted through the house. His stomach growled in response and guided him downstairs. Y/N moved around the kitchen, fixing him a plate of food, ample meat plastered on so much that sauce threatened to drip off onto the floor. Without being told, Peter took a seat on one of the bar stools near the counter.
You watched Peter rip through his meal like a savage animal. You even offered him a beer to quench his thirst. “Satisfied?” “What is in that mind of yours?” “I want you to sleep with me” “I prefer not to” “It could be fun, we can talk about boys and our deep rooted issues” “Speaking of boys, do Scott and Stiles know about my rebirth?” “No, I did everything you asked” “And more. You drowned a kid?” “Peter,” you caressed the side of his face, “sweet, sweet, Peter. I would never do such a thing” With a snap of a finger, Peter grabbed your hand and pulled you close to his face, a strange blue color glowed in replacement of his red eyes. “There’s something wrong with you. It’s a full moon tonight, why aren’t you transforming?” “Patience, Peter, things take time” “This anomaly is actually perfect. I need you to do something” “What?” “Get in Scott McCall’s head” Peter stood and ran his hands along your arms in a sensual manner, his fingertips lightly brushing your sensitive skin. Something about it screamed erotic. “Make him want you” His large hands kneaded your shoulders as he slid up to your neck, the heat radiating through his touch. A carnal fire dwelled in your insides that only Peter had been able to start. Perhaps it was because he was your Alpha but he was the perfect match. “Make him…” His lips now rested in the crook of your neck, a tortuous tease, his hot breath creating an anticipation so keen that you were sure to burst any second. “Think about you every second and break him so much that he comes begging for mercy” By now, blood hummed in your veins, your body involuntarily released a strong moan as he squeezed your waist with intention and purpose while pecking your neck. Peter smirked at how much he had an effect on you, his beta. “Break him, have him go against his friends, take away his precious Allison and bring him to me” His knee rested underneath your hot center constantly rubbing against your weak spot over and over. You were a moaning mess, his existence bothered you in a way you liked. “Don’t let me down, little puppy”
A/N: I found this prompt in a list of soulmate AU’s! I sort of took it as every time you write in your journal it appears in your soulmate’s journal. Hope you enjoy!
Prompt: Everyone is given a journal that they can use to write to their soulmate AU
Pairing: Lin x reader
Things you should know: 1.) Everyone receives their journal when they turn 18. 2.) The reader is 30 by the end of this. 3.) Lin’s dialogue is in quotations :)
Warnings: like one curse word
Masterlist | Request! ~ 2005 You were slightly younger than your soulmate so when you got your journal there were already things written in it. “Things” meaning there were already seven years of writing in it when you got it. Your soulmate was 25 years old and that’s all you knew. You didn’t know his name or where he lived; the universe did everything in its power to make sure you didn’t meet your soulmate before it was time. Everytime he tried to write his name or where he lived it showed up scribble out on your page.
“Are you sure you want us to go without you?” Dustin asks her again, and Lucas and Will nod in agreement. They’re all dressed up in their tuxedos, standing in her doorway, each holding a tiny box. El has to admit, her friends clean up nice.
El sneezes again, and a book flies off one of her many bookshelves Hopper’s built for her. “I’m sure.” She answers with a groggy voice that sends her into a coughing fit. “You guys go. You shouldn’t have to stay just because of me.”
“El, seriously, we’re cool with staying.” Lucas tells her. “I can call Stacy and we can stay here and watch a movie or something.”
“Go. This way I don’t get anyone sick.” El insists, and the boys all try one more time to convince her. But she has her mind made up, and soon the boys are off, to join their pretty dates at the dance of the year.
El had been planning this night for months. Sure, it was only junior prom, but El fell in love with the idea of it. Not only had she saved enough money for the perfect dress, but for a makeup appointment, and dinner at Mike’s favorite restaurant. She payed for her own ticket (that’d had been a battle). Mike made a huge deal about asking her, and of course she said yes. Every minute of the night was planned. And the morning of the dance El woke up vomiting, with a 104 degree fever and the worst headache of her life.