andrei svechnikov (pt. 2)

mat barzal

brady skjei

martin necas

william nylander

gunnar’verse

sidney crosby

miscellaneous players

tyler seguin

champagne buzz down to my toes* (12.1k) new year’s eve in las vegas gets out of hand when you meet tyler, a gorgeous stranger in the club

where reality has long been forgotten (6.2k) cherry clifford had 10 years to heal from her relationship with tyler seguin. turns out that wasn’t long enough and her world is thrown off its axis when she sees him again in the er at mass general

cole caufield

four weddings and a funeral (11.4k) it’s the summer of weddings and just as you’re dreading going solo to them, your brother’s best friend, cole caufield, offers to be your date. it’s the perfect solution, too bad you’ve been madly in love with cole for years and your heart can’t seem to grasp the concept of a fake date.

brock boeser

you look like you love me* (2.7k) you’re nothing but the nanny for brock’s daughter until one night all the lines get blurred

matthew tkachuk

giddy up* (1k) you watch matty compete in the saddle bronc competition at the calgary stampede

sean durzi

don’t you want me like i want you baby? (5.5k) lizzie arnold decides to surprise her best friend for christmas, but she could never have imagined how the holiday season would shake out

mikko rantanen

Birdie is an easy baby, quiet and thoughtful. She has two favorite spots - tucked up against Mel’s chest, her chubby cheek squished against her swollen breast or nestled safely in Frank’s arms, her head tucked in the crook of his elbow and his free hand splayed securely over her tummy.

She sleeps and she eats and she blinks bright blue eyes at her parents and they are so enamored with her. Mel strokes her fingertip over the slope of her nose, over her tiny rosebud lips, over the chin dimple that is all Frank.

Frank just stares, awed. He stares at Birdie’s every movement, catalogues her little yawns and stretches. He stares at Mel, catalogues her every moment too - notices when she winces in pain or discomfort so he can help, when her arms sag a little so he can swoop in and take Birdie to give her a break, when she massages at her full breasts to help Birdie latch.

Birdie’s his third baby, but it feels like the first time.

Everything with Mel feels like the first time.

The house is quiet without the boys and Becca around, just Birdie to make noise. (And she makes plenty of it, don’t get them wrong, as easy as she is, Birdie King-Langdon definitely knows how to use her voice when she wants to.)

There’s a light flurry of snow happening outside and Frank brings a mug of tea for Mel and a hot chocolate for himself to bed, folding himself carefully into the duvet next to Mel and the baby.

“She’s like halfway to sleep,” Mel whispers, patting Birdie’s diapered and onsied bottom. Frank watches the baby blink slowly and can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

“She’s the cutest,” he replies, setting his hot chocolate on the night table and holding Mel’s tea up for her to take a sip. She hums happily and the sound lights up Frank’s brain. The lizard part of his brain is thrilled with the way this week had gone - him, Mel, and the baby all tucked up in bed, safe and warm. The only thing missing is the hurricane of noise and love that the boys bring with them.

“You make cute babies,” Mel murmurs warmly, cheek resting on Frank’s shoulder. His heart warms further.

“This one looks just like you, so I’m pretty sure you make cute babies,” Frank laughs, stroking Birdie’s cheek.

Mel sighs happily, humming softly until Birdie’s eyelids flutter shut, her little mouth falling open in a gentle snore. Frank just stares, dumbstruck by how much love he has for the week-old baby, for Mel, for this new life.

you grew up with a dad who had clients who had tickets to the garden for knicks games so you’ve been to a bunch of games over the years and definitely enjoy basketball and rooting for the knicks. you and mat had been to games as dates too when you started dating and over the years

it’s a great way to repurpose all of your blue and orange gear and break out the vintage knicks merch your dad kept in storage, including some pretty iconic windbreakers and crewnecks

and the vibe in the city during this magical run is immaculate. you can feel the excitement and the energy and it’s so beyond fun to be a part of. you’ve exclusively bought blue and orange bagels for breakfast and mat’s switched his standard order to jalen brunson’s order (egg and cheese with a hash brown and chipotle mayo)

there’s a knicks flag hanging from your flagpole outside the house and your dad calls mat after every game to dissect what happened.

you and mat have been to at least one home game each round of the playoffs and you’ll be at game four of the finals because you thought ahead and bought tickets in advance. you’re glad you didn’t have tickets to game 3 what with all the chaos and stupid distractions. doesn’t stop you from ranting and raving about bad vibes and jinxes when the knicks lose. mat’s equally annoyed but he watches you pace the living room with an amused smile on his face before he pulls you into his lap and squeezes you in a hug, muttering, “gonna kill them in game 4. knicks in five, baby.”

you treat them like date nights, talia stays with a babysitter or the martins or the horvats and you and mat skip off into the city, holding hands and acting like giddy teenagers

of course for game 4 you end up bringing schaef with you somehow. you’re honestly not even sure how it happens but he’s been back and forth between the island and canada and he got back into town a few days ago. when you’re waiting at the door for mat so you can head to the train, schaef pops up with his knicks hat and a big grin, “ready to go?”

you laugh, “i thought you were staying here, going to a watch party?”

“nah, mat included me on the family plan,” schaef teases. “i get to crash mom and dad’s date night”

your husband appears and points at the kid, wearing a teasing scowl, “no more throwing popcorn at us every time we kiss. that shit was only funny the first time”

“i would argue that it’s funny every time,” schaef counters, following you and mat out of the house, “but i guess when you’re old you lose your sense of humor”

and then when the knicks pull off the literal last second win in game four and the garden erupts, you’re not sure who grabs you up in a hug first - mat or schaef - but all you know is that the three of your are jumping and screaming and generally going crazy. you’re crying and chanting “knicks in five! knicks in five!”

(later, somehow, you manage to get a picture with mariska hargitay who looks like she just went ten rounds with muhammad ali but is so sweet and excited. you also wave at kylie jenner and get a smile in return which feels very cool. celebrity row is so exciting to watch and even if you didn’t get to meet taylor swift, you did get to see her jump and scream and enjoy the game, so that feels like a win too)

obviously watching the knicks win is the superior experience and seeing all the chaos and joy happening on the plaza during the watch parties is insane. the multiple “knicks in 4” and “go new york go new york go” chants on the lirr back home keep adrenaline high for hours

you’ve had watch parties for a couple of the away games but mostly you just watch them on the couch with mat while he’s in a brunson jersey and you’re in a hart one, screaming at the tv and laughing when talia gets all excited too

even if it’s just you and mat watching, you make sure to get blue and orange dessert - the seven layer cookies from buttercooky bakery are your favorite and mat’s definitely done a ralph’s run for the brunson blend (vanilla dyed blue and orange creamsicle) which talia’s a fan of too and they both end up with their lips dyed blue like little hypothermia victims

and then when they win in five, you’re screaming and jumping around the house, throwing yourself in mat’s arms and shrieking. he’s bouncing you in his arms and then you’re crying, overwhelmed, feeling all the love and joy and excitement of being a new yorker