#now I’m sad that Kaner is not there this year

[capnseriouslycanadian]

Seriously every time I see Kaner now he doesn't look happy at all. Did you hear Emily Kaplan say he only left because he learned Kyle won't re-sign him this summer? I'm so mad😤

yeah, unfortunately i did hear about that. there were some people questioning the legitimacy of that statement, but she basically confirmed it herself in a text to… someone? it was some reporter on twitter i think lol.

anyways, i’m so sad patrick didn’t get the chance to break all the records and play with one team his whole career. there’s quotes from him from the last year or so where he was continuously saying that he knows how rare it is to play with one team for your whole career, and what an honour it would be to do so. while i’m sure he’s happy to be playing meaningful hockey again, you can tell the trade has heavily affected him and he’s still not adjusted (understandably so). my heart hurts whenever i think about him being lonely or sad or frustrated in a city that he’s not used to 😞

#anon #patrick kane #88 #2022/23 szn #new york rangers #patrick kane forever

[nebulein]

it was so good. now im sad. my bbs!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺

(context)

Sorry, sorry. If you spy the angst tag on my 1988 posts, tread with caution. I just can't seem to help myself 😅 🤷‍♀️

Also warning the below will not entirely fix it but...

Originally the fic concept was supposed to go with a heartbreak ending of one of them leaving and one staying and it's the separation that finally makes them realize how much they depended on the other always being there, even when they were barely speaking, deep down there was always this rock of the other person going through the same things, through thick and thin, the highs and the lows, and now even that is gone. And if you really wanna break your heart, listen to Wrecked or while thinking about this, cause... yeah.

Days pass by and my eyes they dry And I think that I’m okay ‘Till I find myself in conversation fading away The way you smile, the way you walk, The time you took to teach me all that you had taught Tell me how am I supposed to move on These days I’m becoming everything that I hate Wishing you were around but now it’s too late My mind is a place that I can’t escape your ghost Sometimes I wish that I could wish it all away One more rainy day without you Sometimes I wish that I could see you one more day One more rainy day Oh I’m a wreck without you here Yeah I’m a wreck since you’ve been gone I’ve tried to put this all behind me I think I was wrecked all along Yeah I’m a wreck

But. I feel like that ending at least leaves the door kind of open. Maybe this is the darkest valley that they need to go through, the separation they never got that they need to find out who they are on their own, without the other always there. What it means to just be Jonny. To just be Pat. And it hurts at first, boy howdy does it hurt, but sometimes we need to shed the past to find out what we want in life. Jonny gets traded at the deadline, but the Blue Jackets flake out in the second round. Does another stint with the Kraken and then retires at the end because his heart just isn't in it anymore, his body to banged up. Goes on all the yoga retreats he can find, spends some time tanning in Sedona, smokes up in Kathmandu, finds a guru and microdoses on shrooms and finally returns to Canada ready to start the next chapter in his life. Kaner signs another year with the Hawks at a discount that makes everyone lose their marbles, but Pat put down roots, he doesn't want to leave and he likes Richardson, but seeing the C on Seth's chest grates in a way he didn't anticipate and it's hard to break records on a team that can't play its way out of paper bag.

He's gonna become a GM one day, of course. Starts out as player development consultant, works his way up. Maybe takes some MBA classes. Meets Jonny on an stupid alumni golf tournament he got roped into, and it's good but also weird. He can't quite put his finger on it, but Jonny's different. Still the same kind of dry humor and lameass comebacks, still thinks of himself as a way better golfer than he actually is, but when Jonny talks about his travels, about his new endeavors, a clean water project down in Peru and something to do with kites and energy? Pat doesn't know, he wasn't really listening, caught by how the wrinkles on Jonny's face are visible all the time now, not just when he's smiling. But also, he's kind of smiling a lot, looking relaxed in a way that Pat hasn't seen, the tight cast around his mouth that had been there almost 24/7 back when they'd still played on the Hawks together entirely gone, the slant of his shoulders so different from the hunched up Jonny in his memories. He's got a tiny bit of a belly now, which is maybe most surprising of all. It looks good on him, though, gives him a mellowness that wasn't there before.

Jonny's different, is the point, and Kaner finds himself intrigued.

#are they gonna be able to breach the gap the years have created between them? #who knows #they're both different men now in their forties #but the foundations that once drew them together aren't gone - they've just been buried #there's something to build on if they want to #can you tell i've been reading too much damn retirement fic lately #anywhere he's my attempt at a fix it #neb writes #nonnie asks #1988 #hockey husbands #jonathan toews #patrick kane #hockey baby

[tazertime]

It’s been a few years since I’ve watched hockey closely. But I’m still really sad about Kaner leaving. Everything had changed so much

It makes all of the change very very real. Before you could argue that things were basically the same as long as 1988 were still in Chicago, even if other players retired or left. But now it's a completely different team :/

#chicago blackhawks #is this how other teams feel without franchise players? #or if they have franchise players that left?

[softpiastri]

(I’m sorry in advance)

Everyone knew that this day was coming, but no one wanted it to be here. As the United Center slowly filled up with an overly excited crowd, the locker room was anything but excited. Tazer and Kaner were suiting up for their last NHL game ever.

Kane sat in his normal spot right on the right side of Toews. As Kane nervously looked over towards his partner, who was currently stroking a hand over the C sewed onto the front, Kane couldn’t help but think back on all the memories they have made over the years. Even though anyone would think the memories of winning that cups would be the first to his mind, they weren’t. Memories of lazy days at home, bickering at the bench, and merged family parties are what came to Kanes mind instead.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Toews lowly muttered. Kane shot him a short look before nodding, already knowing what he was getting at. “So many years and now its just ending.” Kane replied with a hint of sadness in his voice. A small chuckle left his lips as he placed his hand on his partners shoulder. “We still have one left. Let’s get out there and win it for the guys.” Kane nodded to him before subtly wiping and tears that were gathering as they stood up together.

The rest of their teammates tried their hardest not to get emotional throughout the game. Between Kane getting a hat trick and assisting Toews on the game winning goal, they obviously did get a little bit emotional as they rushed off the bench to celebrate the win, as well as to celebrate the legacy of their teammates.

Not long after their win, Kane and Toews were sent back onto the ice to do their last lap around the rink. With tears in their eyes, Toews stopped the two of them and pulled Kane into a hug. Kane let a soft sob before pulling slightly away to smile up at his parter. “I love you Johnny. Way to step up big.”

#1988 #My Writings

[jerakeenc]

June-Sept Re-recs (12)

This is the best of the best of the best of what I've reread in the last couple of months. I end up downgrading a lot of the fics I reread because even my tastes change over the years. These are the ones that stay awesome, even after many rereads.

(For comparison, I put a little sparkle ✨ image next to the most perfectest (yup!) fics in my regular rec posts. The fics in this post are all sparkle.)

I included my first-read date. The calendar says 2011 was ten years ago but I have my doubts.

Now We've Learned To Kiss The Sky by torakowalski

MCU | Clint/Coulson | Explicit | 13,800 words

“I’m going to ask you something,” Phil says and then pauses and doesn’t ask Clint anything at all. “Yeah?” Clint asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “Is it kinky?” It isn’t, obviously; Phil never has a problem suggesting anything when it comes to sex. Phil shakes his head. He looks up, catching and holding Clint’s eyes. Clint doesn’t make any more smartass comments. “Marry me?” Phil asks.

First read in 2012. It's still so lovely.

Disclosures by gqgqqt

MCU | Clint/Coulson | Teen | 67,900 words

Phil Coulson is miserable, distrusted by most of SHIELD, and still doesn't remember why. It's only going to get worse before it gets better.

(2012) I didn't think I was going to like this, this time around. But nope. Still perfect.

Quriosity by dr_girlfriend

James Bond | Bond/Q | Explicit | 79,900 words

Bond finds himself increasingly curious about his enigmatic Quartermaster.

(2014) Very very good and pretty much the prototype of what I want out of the bond/q fandom.

Out of the Dead Land (orphaned on ao3)

MCU | Bucky/Steve | Mature | 62,700 words

Someone is building machines that look and act like people. Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier tries to be Bucky Barnes.

(2014) Brilliant H/C

All the Rules to Break by foxxcub

Inception | Arthur/Eames | Explicit | 27,700 words

A notorious serial killer returns after a three-year hiatus, reminding Detective Arthur Moss of the infamous case he couldn't close. But when the FBI becomes involved, Arthur is forced to work side-by-side once again with Special Agent Daniel Eames, a man who knows Arthur better than Arthur himself will ever admit. Both men must confront their past and heal old wounds in order to bring a psychopath to justice.

(2011) I love this AU. Always have, always will.

I've Got Nothing To Do Today But Smile (The Only Living Boy in New York) by gyzym

Inception | Arthur/Eames | Teen | 19,860 words

Arthur's a corporate lawyer, Eames owns the coffee shop across the street, and all good love stories start with a quadruple shot latte.

(2011) Another AU I will love forever. Still amazing.

Scattered Pieces of My Mind (orphaned on ao3)

Hockey RPF | Kane/Toews | Teen | 22,580 words

After one scandal too many, Patrick Kane gets traded. Eventually it stops being the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

(2014) And this here is the prototype for my favorite H/C scenario. I feel like this rec list may be giving a bit too much away on my state of mind these days.

we were even after all, even in enmity (orphaned on ao3)

Hockey RPF | Kane/Toews | Mature | 60,000 words

“Jonathan,” Q says solemly. Something in his tone gives Jonny pause. He sits up straighter, waiting for the end of the sentence. “I regret to inform you that you’ve been traded to the St. Louis Blues. It’s been an honor and a pleasure working with you the past few years, and you will be sorely missed. Please clean out your locker before you leave today.” “That’s what Kaner said in your meeting?” Jonny asks, feeling numb. “That’s why it took so long? He was convincing you to trade me?”

(2014) Yup, you guessed it. H/C, angst, whump. Perfection.

Shelter by harriet_vane

Social Network RPF | Jesse/Andrew | Teen | 63,500 words

From the kinkmeme prompt: Some sort of AU vaguely based on Shelter! For whatever reason, Jesse has to take care of Hallie and give up his dream of being an actor. He ends up working in a dead end job when former, now successful friend (Andrew) returns home. They fall in love, etc, only Jesse can't go away with him because he has a responsibility to his family. CUE ANGST.

(2011) I remembered the bare bones of this story and thought I probably wouldn't enjoy it as much now... but it turned out to be excellent. Really cute AU.

here comes the sun by oflights

Social Network | Mark/Eduardo | Explicit | 56,600 words

This is a story about growing up, sad 70's rock songs, too much hair gel, "Maxwell's Silver Hammer", a baby with curly hair, a Geiger counter, a dog that isn't named Max, the Chicken Dance, Cheerios, pepper-spray, drugs, sex, and a stuffed chicken named Cluckerberg, nicknamed Cluck. or: Mark raises Sean's accidental baby, and I write the fluffiest thing ever.

(2011) And then there's this one... I mean, who'd want to read about Mark Zuckerberg in 2021, right? I do apparently. This story still gets five huge stars from me, implausible setup and all. It's endearing, romantic, super cute.

All The Stars And Bleeding Hearts by torakowalski

Social Network RPF | Jesse/Andrew | Explicit | 40,470 words

Notting Hill AU. In which Jesse runs a bookstore, Andrew is a famous film star and they’re both faily dorks in love.

(2011) Beautifully done!

and how many years I've missed you by estrella30

One Direction RPF | Harry/Nick | Explicit | 17,900 words

“So my god, Nick,” Harry folds himself down into a chair, his long legs splaying out under the table. His foot knocks into Nick’s and Nick kicks him back reflexively, his body remembering how to act around Harry even after all this time. “This is bloody crazy,” Harry shakes his head. “It’s been ages, yeah? It’s got to be like, what, five years or something?” Seven, Nick thinks to himself. You were just nineteen and I was twenty eight and it was seven years ago, not five. or, the one where Harry and Nick haven't seen each other or been in touch in seven years and then they meet up and things happen

(2014) More angst. Frickin' beautiful.

#recs #rerecs

[dixie12]

kink confession #3

i really love puppy play. i see it as a progression of d/s play, where the sub partner gets to really get out of their head, and just get totally spoiled and taken care of by their dom. and if anyone deserves to be petted and loved on and called a good boy, it's jonny.

i meant this to be a quick, smutty thing, but the boys wouldn't cooperate and get down to the porn, so it's almost 4k words, but i had fun writing it!

“You can’t even keep a houseplant alive, Kaner. There is absolutely no way anyone would ever entrust you with a dog,” Jonny said, for what felt like the twentieth time that night. Sharpy never should have let Pat dog-sit Shooter a few weeks ago, because ever since then, Pat seemed to bring up getting a dog at least once a day. “Plus, we’re on the road, like, all the time. It would be cruel to the dog,” Jonny continued. He had no idea why Pat was so insistent on this.

“I’d be awesome at it, though!” Pat exclaimed, sulking just a little. “I practically raised all three of my sisters, and they turned out great.”

“Raised them in between playing on five different peewee teams, Peeks?” Sharpy interjected into the conversation. “And you’re barely a year older than Erica, come on!”

“Whatever,” Pat grumbled. “I’d be the best dog dad ever. Shooter’s probably begging to come back and live with me. I’d give him steak, and belly rubs, and we’d go on long walks, and-”

“Are you describing a dog or your dating profile, man?” Sharpy interrupted, laughing, and Patrick’s cheeks turned a light pink, almost unnoticeable in the dim light of the bar, but Jonny was watching him pretty closely, like he always did.

“Fuck off, Sharpy. Jesus, don’t make it weird,” Patrick replied, rolling his eyes. Thankfully, the conversation moved on after that, when the rookies came back with a round of shots for the table. Jonny lost track of the number of rounds after that, but the rest of the night passed in a blur, and he and Pat were leaning on each other for balance by the time they were waiting for a cab to get back to their hotel.

When they were finally back in their room, clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor (Jonny) or folded neatly on the desk chair (Patrick), Patrick brought it up again. “Seriously, Jonny, I’d be so good at it,” he said plaintively. Jonny could imagine the puppy dog eyes he was making, so appropriate for this situation, and forced himself to stay quiet. Patrick sounded almost forlorn, and Jonny really hated when he sounded like that, all of his instincts telling him to make Pat feel better, but it was still a bad idea.

“Maybe I could, like, prove how good I’d be!” Pat said into the silence. “Come over next weekend, man, and I’ll show you. You’ll change your mind, I swear.” At that point, Jonny was drunk and tired enough that he said yes, mostly just to get Pat to go to sleep. Looking back, he really should have asked some important questions, mainly, what the fuck did Patrick mean by “showing him,” but his eyes were dragging closed, and he passed out as soon as he mumbled his agreement.

*

Jonny walked into Pat’s apartment, unsure what to expect. Pat hadn’t been very forthcoming on the phone. He’d actually sounded a little nervous, voice higher than usual, words coming out quickly, telling Jonny to just get over to his apartment already. Jonny walked in slowly, peering around the corner, ready to be ambushed by an entire pack of dogs, or maybe a powerpoint presentation entitled ‘Why Patrick Kane Deserves a Dog” complete with ClipArt pictures and comic sans font. He certainly wouldn’t put it past Pat to try something that ridiculous.

Pat was just sitting on the couch in his living room, though, TV on but not really watching it. His head jerked in Jonny’s direction as he entered, and Pat sat up straighter.

“Hey, man,” he said, still with that undercurrent of nerves that Jonny heard over the phone.

“Ok, I’m here,” Jonny replied, skipping over a normal greeting entirely. “Let’s get this over with so we can watch some tape tonight.”

“Yea, yea,” Pat said, rolling his eyes. He leaned forward and picked up a small package that Jonny hadn’t noticed, sitting on the coffee table. “Here,” he said, offering the box to Jonny. “This is for you. For today.”

“Ok…” Jon answered, taking the box in his hands. It was light, but it rattled a little when he shook it. He opened it gingerly, lifting the top off. There was tissue paper inside, and when he pulled it out, he saw a red and black leather dog collar. There was a tag on it, a simple circle that was cool to the touch as he fingered it gently, turning it over. The back just read “88” with no other markings.

“Uhhh, what is this, Pat?” Jonny asked, stroking his fingers over the leather. It was buttery soft in his hand, silver buckle polished to a high shine.

“It’s for you!” Patrick repeated, voice somewhat manic. “You’re going to wear it, and pretend to be a dog, so I can take care of you and show you how good I am at it!” Jonny just stared at him, dumfounded. He could feel his jaw hanging open, but didn’t have the mental energy to close it, too busy repeating Pat’s words in his head. He seriously expected Jonny to…

“You seriously expect me to put on a fucking dog collar and what, crawl around on the ground? So you can show me that you should get a real dog? That will be left alone half the season and then dragged back and forth to Buffalo? Are you insane?” Jonny half-yelled the last sentence, feeling hysterical.

“I mean, when you put it that way…” Pat’s eyes dropped guiltily, and he was blushing now. “I wasn’t really thinking of it like that. I just… I think I’d be good at this, and it sucks that everyone thinks I can’t be trusted.” He looked up at Jonny through his lashes, and with his curls in desperate need of a haircut, he looked heartbreakingly young and sad. Jonny could feel his resolve breaking.

He guessed they had kind of been jerks to Pat in the bar, making fun of him. Pat had gotten a lot more responsible in the last year, and he’d probably do fine with a dog, and maybe they shouldn’t have teased him so much. Pat was still looking at him imploringly, eyes wide and hopeful. Fine, he’d do this for a few minutes, assuage his guilt, and then they’d never speak of it again.

“Jesus, fine,” he huffed out. “But you mention a single word of this to anyone and I’m going to stab you with a skate blade, Happy Gilmore style,” Jonny threatened, narrowing his eyes at Pat, whose blinding grin made the upcoming embarrassment worthwhile.

“Yea, of course, Jonny. It’ll be our thing, I promise,” he said, taking the collar from Jonny’s hands. “Go put on some sweats, I think that will be more comfortable, ok?” and Jonny didn’t even bother fighting that one. The sooner they got this started, the sooner it would be over.

He came out of Pat’s guest room dressed in a pair of his own sweatpants that he’d left there at some point. They were well-worn, soft, and smelled like Pat’s detergent.

“Ok, come here so I can put this on you,” Pat said, gesturing Jonny towards him with the hand that still held the collar. Jonny walked towards him slowly, prior nerves that he’d fought down returning with a vengeance as he watched Pat unbuckle the collar in preparation. He took a deep breath, stopping just in front of Patrick, who tugged his shoulder until he turned around. “Crouch down a little so I can reach, dick,” Pat said, pushing on his shoulder.

“Pretty sure you shouldn’t call your, uh, I mean, a dog a dick, Pat. That’s kinda mean,” Jonny complained.

“Hey as soon as it’s all the way on, I’m going to treat you like gold, Jonny,” Pat said. Jon felt the collar tightening against the tensed muscles in his neck. “Relax,” Pat said, voice dropping low, one hand running from Jon’s neck to his shoulder, soothing. Jonny shivered, but some of the stiffness in him relaxed, and Pat slid the buckle into place. “How’s that feel?” he asked, slipping a finger underneath to test for any give.

Jonny had to clear his throat, which was suddenly dry. “Uhh, it’s good,” he got out. “I mean, it’s fine. Not too tight,” he mumbled.

“Perfect,” Pat said, and the word warmed something inside him.

“So what do we do now?” Jon asked, wondering just what Pat had planned for their play date.

“Uh-uh, Jonny. Dogs don’t talk,” Pat answered with a smile. “You just do what I say and let me spoil you.” And oh. Jonny had never had someone say anything like that to him before. He could feel the blossom of heat in his cheeks and knew it was spreading down his neck and chest, as well. He desperately hoped that Pat just thought he was embarrassed. That’s all it was, he told himself firmly, willing himself to get it together. He just wasn’t used to hearing things like that directed at himself. Hell, he’d never talked to any girls like that either, like they were something precious to take care of.

Jon nodded jerkily, determined to play along and not make it weird. Or, weirder than it already was, he guessed.

“Ok, first things first- every dog deserves some time snuggling on the couch, come on,” Pat said, starting to walk into the living room. Jonny hesitated, unsure for a moment if Pat expected him to like, crawl on all fours behind him. That wouldn’t be very good for his knees, he thought. Or his dignity.

Patrick seemed to get what he was thinking and laughed as he answered “nah, man, you can walk like normal. Unless you like, really want to get method on me, then you can go ahead and crawl.” Jon shook his head hard, following behind Pat into the living room.

Pat sat down on the couch, then gestured next to him. Jon sat, somewhat stiffly, but Pat immediately pushed him down. “No, come on, that’s not snuggling. Lie down,” he directed, and Jon allowed himself to be pushed over. His head ended up in Pat’s lap, which he didn’t think he’d done since he was drunk with TJ at UND. He’d definitely never cuddled with his head in a guy’s lap while sober, he knew that much. Maybe he should have pregamed with some shots before he came over today.

Too late now, though. “Yea, that’s good,” Pat was saying, as he stroked his hand through Jonny’s hair. “Good boy.” Jonny suppressed another shiver. He’d always been a sucker for having his hair played with, and it figured that Pat had discovered the weakness right away. “I know you don’t like my reality TV, so I’m putting on a nature show for you. They’re supposed to be very soothing for dogs, ok?” Pat said, and Jonny could get used to that, to Pat catering to what he wanted. Jon was pretty sure Pat didn’t actually want a response, what with the whole “dogs don’t talk” thing he had insisted on, so instead, he let himself relax a little bit more into Pat’s lap.

The show actually was soothing. Jonny was only half-listening to the English-accented narrator talk about different kinds of jellyfish, letting his mind wander as Pat continued to stroke his hair. Sometimes he’d grasp at it and tug, and every time, Jonny had to bite back a moan. Soon, Pat’s hand had wandered down from his hair and was stroking long, firm pats (there was no better word for it) down his neck and shoulder. Jonny shuddered into one of them, and he could hear the smile in Pat’s voice as he said “yea, feels good, doesn’t it?” hand never stopping.

Jonny was glad that he wasn’t expected to answer, not sure he’d have been able to get any words out anyway. He let out a deep sigh, instead, and Pat crooned at him “good boy. Good, good boy.”

Jonny lost track of time after that, mind and body both relaxed. He jerked in surprise when Pat moved to get up. “Shh, it’s ok. Good boy,” Pat soothed. “I’m just going to get dinner going. I promised you a steak, didn’t I?”

Jon nodded, letting himself sink back into the cushions of the couch. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable without Pat there underneath him, but it gave him a chance to get himself back under control. It was hitting him harder than he expected, Patrick touching him gently and saying soft, sweet things to him. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his mind from the fog it had fallen into.

He could hear Pat puttering in the kitchen, and for once didn’t feel any guilt about not helping. He listened as Pat heated the stovetop, then heard the sizzle of steak hitting the frying pan. Usually, he’d be bugging Pat about not cooking with oil, and preparing healthy side dishes, keeping up his side of the banter that was expected of him. Tonight, though, Pat didn’t expect that from him. Didn’t want it from him, either. Just wanted him to lie still on the couch and wait, and Jon could do that.

He was almost dozing when Patrick walked back in. Jon perked up at the smell of food, and Pat sounded fond when he said “dinner’s here, pup.” Jon started at that, but before he could get himself good and worked up, Pat was sitting next to him, two large steaks on a plate on the coffee table. Jonny sat up, looking at the food expectantly, but Pat shook his head.

“Pups don’t eat on the couch,” he said, and he placed a cushion that Jon had never seen before on the floor. Pat pushed at his shoulder once, and, fine, the steak looked and smelled delicious, so Jon could suffer the indignity of eating on the floor. He settled down on the cushion, which was soft and velvety beneath him, and reached towards the plate. It was only then that he realized there was only one set of utensils.

Pat leaned forward, cutting a piece of steak from one of the filets. He blew on it for a moment, then gently took it off the fork and offered it to Jonny between his fingers. Jonny took just a moment to consider the pink center and perfect sear, smell even more tantalizing as Patrick brought it to his mouth. He swallowed hard, then leaned forward, taking the bite from Pat’s fingers. Pat smiled at that, broad and bright, as he cut the next piece off for himself.

Pat had turned the TV down, now just a quiet white noise in the background as they made their way through dinner. Usually, as two guys in their twenties with a physically demanding job, they inhaled their food, finishing in a matter of minutes. Pat was taking his time tonight, though, cutting off pieces of steak that were the perfect size for Jon, letting Jon take them delicately from his fingers.

Without the ability to talk, or even use his hands, Jon’s other senses felt heightened, even as his mind felt more relaxed. He could feel himself settling deeper onto the cushion, shifting his weight more comfortably on the velvet, which was soft on the tops of his exposed feet. His arms were heavy as they hung by his side, hands folded in his lap, unnecessary now, because Pat was taking care of him. The smell of the steak hung in the air, enticing and reminiscent of dozens of other nights he’d spent with Pat.

He closed his eyes as Pat fed him another bite, and fuck if this wasn’t the best steak he could remember having, seasoning sharp and tangy, steak melting in his mouth. He could feel some of the juice running down Pat’s hand, and he lapped it at without thinking, not wanting to miss out on any of the taste. He heard Pat’s quiet gasp as he licked over his fingers, tongue curling in between them, but Pat didn’t pull back, didn’t say anything else, just took his clean hand and stroked Jonny’s cheek.

“Yea, it’s good, huh, isn’t it, pup?” he asked, voice hushed. “Made it just for you,” and Jon licked harder at that, strangely comforted by having something in his mouth. He heard himself whine when Pat gently pulled his fingers out of Jonny’s mouth, but couldn’t spare the thought to be embarrassed before Pat’s hand was back with another piece. Instead of holding it out for Jonny between his fingers, though, he had it in the palm of his hand. Jonny bent his head closer, no hesitation in him as he picked up the piece with his teeth and tongue, and then Pat’s hand was still there, dripping with juice and salt and seasoning, and he set in to lick it clean.

He enjoyed the sensation of the rough calluses on Pat’s palm, built up from years of stickhandling, and kept dragging his tongue over them long after Pat’s hand was free from any traces of the steak. Pat kept a hand in his hair, smoothing through it, scratching at Jonny’s scalp in a way that felt blissful. He kept at it even after Jonny stopped licking, as Jonny knelt there on the cushion at his feet. They stayed like that until Jonny’s head grew heavy, neck wobbly with relaxation, and he rested it on Pat’s leg.

“Ok, pup,” Pat said eventually. “Let’s get you some water, yea?” Jonny didn’t attempt to answer, just picked his head up and watched as Pat rose from the couch. He realized Pat was walking out towards the kitchen, and suddenly didn’t want to be alone. Without thinking about it, he put his hands on the hardwood floor and started crawling out of the room after Pat.

Pat only took a few steps out of the room before he stopped, turning around and looking down at Jonny. Jonny couldn’t quite tell what expression was on Pat’s face, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen him smile so softly, not even when talking to his sisters.

“You’re being so good for me, aren’t you, pup?” he said gently, and Jonny shivered. “Yea, you just want to be with your person, huh,” Pat continued, bending down and working a finger under Jonny’s collar. He tugged it gently, making Jonny gasp at the reminder of what was around his neck, and then let go. He scrubbed his hand through Jonny’s hair once more before turning back around and continuing towards the kitchen. Jonny kept crawling behind him, then settled himself in the entryway while Pat poured two glasses of water.

“Come on, boy,” he said, walking back to the couch, and Jonny followed without pause.

When they got back to the living room, Pat grabbed the cushion that he’d laid out for Jonny for dinner, dragging it closer to the couch. “It’ll be easier for you to drink like this, pup,” he explained, tugging Jonny towards him and holding one of the glasses out to his lips. He tipped it up slowly, letting Jonny drink at his own pace, and Jon could feel himself blushing again. The intimacy of the moment, being at Pat’s feet, letting Pat help him drink, hit him hard, and he realized that he hadn’t even attempted to take the glass in his hands, even before Pat said anything. He’d just assumed that Pat would take care of that for him, just like Pat had been taking care of everything else tonight. He was overwhelmed, suddenly, with affection for Pat, and he dropped his head, nuzzling into Pat’s thigh.

He heard Pat’s short, sweet laugh above him, and he almost pulled back, but Pat brought one big hand down, laying it on the back of his neck, keeping his head there.

“Yea, I love you too, pup,” he murmured, and Jon could hear the warmth in his voice. Jon smiled to himself, groaning quietly as Pat’s hand started up with the long strokes through his hair again, and he let his head rest on Pat’s thigh, body melting into Pat’s strong legs at the feeling of the hand in his hair.

He let himself be lulled by the soothing strokes, mind drifting, eyes closed. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when he opened his eyes again, the room was darker, and Pat had slouched down a little further on the couch. He still had his hand in Jonny’s hair, though, occasionally running it down his neck, rubbing in small circles. It felt amazing, and Jonny leaned forward, trying to get Pat’s attention to give him another drink of water.

When he leaned in, though, he rubbed up against Pat’s leg, and fuck that felt good. He hadn’t even realized he was hard until his cock made contact with Pat’s leg, but now that he was aware of it, he couldn’t stop himself from jerking his hips again. A whine slipped out of his lips as his hips thrust forward a third time, seeking out the hard planes of Pat’s leg, grinding his cock there. He could feel the precome slicking down his dick, easing the way for him to keep rubbing up against Pat, even through his soft sweatpants. He whined again at the feel of it, dirty, but so good.

He heard Pat gasp a sharp breath above him, heard him groan out a “fuuuck J-, I mean, pup.” Jonny could feel the blush blooming in his cheeks, but he didn’t care, not when the simple pressure of Pat’s leg against the hot length of him felt like this. “Yea thats good, pup,” Pat said, half a moan, and he dropped his hand lower, between Jonny’s shoulder blades, pushing gently on his back, encouraging him to ride Pat’s leg even harder. “Want you to feel good, baby. Make yourself feel good for me,” and the approval in Pat’s voice lit Jonny up from the inside, warm glow of it driving out the last of his embarrassment.

He buried his face in Pat’s thigh, not using his hands at all, just letting his hips work mindlessly, rutting up against Pat’s leg. This wasn’t going to take long, not with Pat’s strong hand firm on his back and Pat’s soft praise in his ear. He could feel himself losing the rhythm, could hear his breath coming in harsh pants, and he didn’t fight it, not like he usually did, struggling to last, to make it good for whatever girl he was with. Now, he just let the orgasm race through him, coming hard and groaning with it.

He shuddered, feeling utterly spent in the best way, body loose and limp. Pat dragged his hand up from Jonny’s back, tangling it in his hair for a moment before reaching down for Jonny’s collar. He snuck his fingers under it, and Jonny let himself drift again, pressed up against Pat, Pat’s fingers tight on his collar.

#1988 #blackhawks fic #puppy!play #jonny would look so good in a collar #pat would take such good care of him #just absolutely cherish him #the way he deserves #o captain my captain #kink confession #write the fic you want to see in the world

[iamvegorott]

A New Virus Chapter 3

Uninstalled

“She’s a fucking bitch, anyways, who cares?” A scruffy voice said.

“She’s still a person.” A softer voice responded, Annalise knew that voice but the name wouldn’t click.

“I want to have fun destroying her career, not worry if she’ll be sad or not.” A third, sharp voice said.

“She told on dad, she gets ruined.” A fourth voice with a hint of a nasal tone stated.

“What dad did was illegal-”

“Who gives a fuck about the law!?” The scruffy voice cut off the soft one.

“The law doesn’t get us paid.” A fifth, low-pitched, voice said.

“But dad-”

“But nothing!” The soft voice was cut off once again, this time by the low-voice. “I am the head of this house and what I say go!” There was a loud bang and it was followed by some screams.

“Who turned off the power!?” The sharp voice cried.

“This isn’t funny!” The nasal voice whined. The voice screamed again when there was a loud, echoing laugh, sounding as if it came from everywhere.

“Dad,” Annalise said when she recognized the laugh, the distortion being very unique to Anti. Annalise slowly crawled out of the television, hearing more laughter and more screams coming from the other room. Why would Anti be putting on a show like this if he was just supposed to be fixing a computer? Annalise watched as the lights began to flicker. Did Anti know she was here or was he too distracted?

“A family that destroys lives together, dies together.” Anti’s voice said in a sing-songy tone.

“What is that?” Soft voice whimpered.

“Run Elliot, trust me, you want to run,” Anti warned in a kinder tone than he used before.

“Elliot, get behind me!” The scruffy voice ordered before he let out a shout and something sounded like it shattered.

“Keith! What the fuck are you-” The sharp voice became a scream and there was a loud ‘thud’.

“Run,” Anti growled before there were more screams and more loud bangs and crashes. Annalise stiffened when a young man ran into the room she was in.

“Who-” The man, who Annalise knew was Elliot, was stopped by the teen virus putting her hand on his mouth.

“It’s okay. I’m not a bad guy.” Annalise whispered, seeing the fear in the young man’s eyes. He was lanky with little muscle build. Annalise had seen him at school and only knew his last name because of gossip she’s heard from others that said his family was part of a gang of some sort. Annalise slowly lowered her hand, ready to slap it back on if needed.

“Who are you?” Elliot asked.

“Nobody.” Annalise snapped her fingers and Elliot’s eyes went white before he passed out. “I really hoped that worked,” Annalise said to herself as she laid Elliot on the ground. “Memories are weird and school is going to be interesting for you tomorrow.” She added as she neared the other room, peeking her head in.

“Lillian never asked to work for you,” Anti said before giving a man, who was laying on the ground, a kick to the stomach. “Lillian was born into the hell you put her through.” Another kick. Annalise’s eyes were wide. What was her dad doing? She saw that a thin woman was pinned to the wall by multiple knives, blood trickling out of a split lip. Another larger, woman was on the ground as well, sobbing as she held what looked like a broken arm. An older man was curled up in a ball, body shaking to the point that Annalise knew he was badly injured, the pool of blood surrounding him was also a big clue.

“We get it!” The pinned woman, nasally voice, cried. “We’ll leave her alone! Tell Mr. Yolen we’ll leave her alone!”

“Aw, honey,” Anti said, using a sickeningly sweet tone that caused a shiver to go down Annalise’s back. The virus slowly walked over to the woman, a hand behind his back that a knife appeared in. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t get that I wasn’t hired to just beat you up. I’m not here to send a message. I’m here to make a point.” Annalise had to slap her hands over her mouth to silence a gasp when Anti took the knife and plunged it into the woman’s chest. “Get it? Point?” Anti started laughing as he yanked the knife back out and stabbed it back right in.

“You’re...insane.” The woman with the broken arm spat.

“What?” Anti said with a smile, going over to the woman and kicking her over. “I think my jokes are killer.” Anti slammed his foot down. The woman let out a scream, blood spurting out of her mouth. “They’re just to die for.” Another stomp. “Don’t be a buzzkill.” Anti chewed his lip, the woman was gasping in pain beneath him. “That one was kind of a stretch.” He hummed before making another knife appear in his hand. “I guess you could say that it went flat.” Anti stabbed the knife through the woman’s face. “Like your heart rate.” Anti glitched away when the man he had been kicking before lunged at him. “You know what they say about playing with knives.” Anti sang as two smaller knives formed in his hands. The man leaped at Anti again and ended up screaming when Anti shoved both knives into his eyes. “You’ll poke your eyes out.” Anti laughed before turning the man around and throwing him to the ground, the ends of the blades were poking out of the back of his head.

“Why...why…” The older man asked in a weak voice.

“Because you fucked up, old man,” Anti answered as he made one more knife. “You fucked with the wrong man.” Anti threw the knife and it went through the man’s throat. The man gasped and gargled, twitching as he attempted to reach behind him. “Let me help you with that,” Anti whispered before yanking the knife out. There were only a few more sounds before the man stopped moving. Anti hummed as he placed the knife down on the table, the side of his face turned green and the light traveled down his arm and a small eye formed in his palm. “And recorded.” He said into the eye’s pupil. “Consider them, uninstalled.”

“Dad…” Anti stiffened, eyes going wide.

“A-Ann…” He slowly turned his head and saw Annalise at the doorway. “Princess, I...I can...I…” Anti started to stammer. How could this happen? How did he not know that she was there? How long was she there? What all did she see? Was she scared? Would she run? Did she hate him now? After so many years of keeping this hidden from her, it was all now in the open.

“That was so cool!”  

Tag List: @readeatfightlove13 @kenzie-110101 @kaner-va  @fandom-trash1214 @sophs0ph@pixelenchanter   @snickerz171 @fuck-im-emo @coffee-in-sweaters

#danti #raising annalise #a new virus

[live-in-fury]

Since you asked for prompts (yaaaaay btw :D), I would loooooove to read a 1988 fic with POV Outsider! Maybe someone from the Blackhawks, or even a player from an other team :) Or a 1988 where they're high school sweethearts? Or maybe even a fic with both of these tropes ♥

“What are you staring at?” Nick asks, plopping down to sit next to Ryan in front of their stalls.

“I’m staring at Tazer staring at Kaner,” Ryan replies. 

Nick follows his gaze and yeah, that’s exactly what’s happening. “Are you surprised?” 

Ryan shrugs. “He’s usually more subtle about it?”

“I can’t believe Kaner’s that oblivious to it though,” Nick comments.

Ryan shakes his head and starts to gather his things. “Imagine knowing someone for that long, mutually liking each other but not realizing? How fucking sad.”

Nick laughs longer than he probably should and flicks his gaze to Vinnie who’s heading their way. “Yeah,” Nick agrees, giggling. “How fucking sad.”

*

“What’s up with you?” Duncs asks, eating the last of his chicken and shoving his plate to the side. “You’ve been glued to the phone all night. Everything okay?”

Brent sighs and locks his phone. “Yeah, it’s just Jonny going through another Kaner crisis.”

“What happened now?”

“He thinks they’re drifting apart. Keeps complaining about how they never hang out anymore,” Brent explains.

“Uh, there’s a pretty easy fix to that problem. He can just go hang out with him?”

“Try telling him that,” Brent says, rolling his eyes. “He’s all ‘it has to be authentic, not forced’ and ‘why doesn’t he initiate things?’“

Brent’s phone buzzes. “Sucks,” Duncs answers. He takes a gulp of his beer. “Tell Sharpy to talk to Kaner?”

“Yeah, I’ll try that. I hate butting in though.”

“It’s been ten years. I think you’re allowed to butt in now,” Duncs deadpans.

*

“What’d that drink do to you, bud?” Hossa asks.

Patrick snaps out of his trance and shakes his head. “Nothing,” he mumbles.

“Are you okay?”

“‘M fine,” he says looking across the room.

Hossa follows his gaze to see Jonny trading kisses with a tall red head. “Ahh, I see.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Patrick says, drowning the rest of his beer before grabbing Hossa’s.

“Uh, sure. Help yourself, it’s not like I was going to finish that,” Hossa mutters.

Patrick chugs the rest of Hossa’s drink, giving him a thumbs up.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s anything serious,” Hossa reassures him.

“He never brings anyone out with the boys,” Patrick says. “What makes her so fucking special?”

“I-”

“You okay?” Trevor asks interrupting Hossa and sliding into the booth next to Patrick. 

“If one more person asks me, I’m going to flip my shit,” Patrick grumbles.

Trevor puts his hands up and slides back out. “Just thought I’d check, sorry.”

*

“Is it just me or are the looks different now?” Vinnie asks, elbowing Ryan to get his attention.

“What looks?”

Vinnie nods his head at the other side of the rink where Patrick’s hunched over laughing at something Jonny said.

“Oh, yeah,” Ryan says. “I noticed that the other day. I think they finally got their shit together.”

“Maybe,” Vinnie says, as they skate closer to the two. 

Patrick skates a circle around Jonny and taps his stick against his leg. “You look good,” he says, causing Jonny to blush.

“Thanks, bud. You too,” Jonny says, smiling.

“Gross,” Ryan whispers rather loudly as they skate past.

“You wish this was you!” Patrick calls after them.

Ryan shudders. “Ew, why would I wish I was with Tazer?”

Vinnie sighs audibly. “You’re an idiot.”

“What?” Ryan asks, confused. “I don’t get it.”

#my fic #1988 #otp: maybe he's taking care of his garden #3848 #lmao i'm so weak i had to add a little of 3848

[jenxphotography]

It's now hitting me that #Breadman is not coming back to Chicago this year! I'm more sad than Kaner is 💔 #ArtemiPanarin #YoullBeInMyHeart

#artemipanarin #youllbeinmyheart #breadman