祝日 / Permanent Vacation
noise dept.
taylor price
hello vonnie
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Sade Olutola
Kiana Khansmith
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Not today Justin
titsay
d e v o n
todays bird
almost home
Peter Solarz
i don't do bad sauce passes
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pixel skylines
Xuebing Du
Three Goblin Art
NASA
seen from United States
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seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
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@erstwhles
ʙᴀʙʏ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ! / hello! my name is bridge (21+, she/they, est. time zone)
highly selective, multimuse, low activity
to opt out of general ooc nonsense, feel free to filter: #tbd. and #sports
general information: aesthetic sideblog / pinterest / blog links
for interactions: open starters / wishlist
well, with another spring break over, it's back to work tomorrow. my very cautious goal was to get back into writing this week, but not having to work meant i devoted all of my energy into coursework... i'm still really tired
there are a lot of reasons it's hard to be here the way i used to be. maybe that will change over summer break, but definitely not now or anytime soon
at the same time, i've been here some eleven years, and writing is still important to me. these characters and the little worlds i've been able to have a hand in creating are all important to me, so i can't picture this account going anywhere. i'm just not pressed to start new interactions, so feel free to unfollow. no hard feelings <3
nothing really changes in terms of the friends i know and have written with for a while now. i have all of you added on discord already and that's been easier to keep up with. in fact, the very limited time i have has gone to responding to discord threads, and i think that's probably where my focus is going to stay. i can never be completely done with writing
anyway, this is way too long, so we'll wrap it up: it's been a good run! but i'm ready to pause for now. i'll still hang around here, but any lingering threads will be way slower. my sideblog is more active with both writing and non-writing related things. that will probably stay the same, too. on that note, if you have any thoughts about h.ockey or f.1 or just want to listen to me complain about full time grad school and work, then i'll be on discord. that will stay the priority for now <3 thank you thank you
Meeka only created small carbon copies of herself. Both of her daughters were reflective of a different time. Aoife, in particular, had inherited Meeka's carefree positive spirit. Happy to smile bright and pretty while being passed from uncle to uncle, giggling loudly as they played with her. Her papa's attention only added to this, tiny hands reaching for him before she was showered in more attention and thus distracted.
"Yep, everything's good." She was sat down to rest, eyeing her daughter out of the corner of her eye. "No one's attempted to steal anything and the bakery's not burned to the ground in my absence. All is well." Taking a break from work had been the hardest part. Meeka had become so entrenched in the workings of Heavenly Made that she forgot to fully trust her very capable managers. It had taken a very long spell in the hospital for exhaustion for Meeka to listen to Raleigh and get it.
His wife was not without flaws, who knew?
"She is. I think she's a real social butterfly. God knows where she gets it from." Meeka broke into a chuckle. "She really likes her uncles, and while she's still a little gosling, it's kind of like she belongs out on the ice. Y'know? She's not afraid of it, which is great because lord knows we'll be here every time you are. Cheering for papa~" It was always him that Aoife ran to for snuggles after all.
Meeka sits, saving Raleigh some breath as he leans down to squeeze her shoulders. As if having a newborn around is not tiring enough, balancing her full time role at Heavenly Made caused enough concern that Raleigh is happy to see any break she is willing to take. Aoife is happy in the arms of her uncles, but Raleigh is equally grateful his wife has a moment to breathe without guilt.
"Mhm." He hums, giving her shoulders a final squeeze before walking around to take the seat beside her. "It's a relief that she enjoys being here enough on her own." It would have been a specific type of heartbreak if their daughter wanted nothing to do with the sport. "And it's giving you a chance to rest. You look tired." There is no attempt to hide the concern in his voice. She knows him better than that, anyway.
"Maybe, if we're lucky, she'll sleep tonight." As he takes the spot beside her, Raleigh's eyes drift back to where his daughter is laughing at one of his teammate's dramatic antics.
"I don't think it's a secret I have loved you from the very first day I met you." (Mi for Cal, during the Summer they finally get together)
A strange feeling flutters through his stomach, and all Callum can do is blink as he listens. The urge to pull her closer into his arms is made even more overwhelming by the fact that he gets to do that now.
"It was a secret to me." Why would Miyako, with her insistent smile and positivity and generous offering of food, want anything to do with a guy who only knew how to frown and was on the fringes of a job he was surely underqualified to have? The fact that Miyako wanted to talk to him at all was confusing enough, but then they ran into each other the next week, and she did it all over again.
Callum gently rests his chin atop her head and lets his hands run up and down her arms as she sits with her back to his chest. "All I did the first time we met was... avoid your questions and agree to try the recipes you were working on." A slight smile finds him now at the memory.
There was a lot of anger in him when they first met. A lot pressure knowing that he had limited time to prove himself. Callum grew up knowing he was at a disadvantage compared to some of his peers. He was used to having others point out all the reasons why he didn't deserve to be where he was. There was no reason to think Miyako wouldn't feel the same way.
Kit's face broke out into another toothy smile at Liam's promise to tell his mother. He had no doubt he would and it made him hopeful, against his better judgement. It was one thing to look out and see excited fans, another to spot someone in the stands that knew you and cared about you beyond the sport. At least, he thought they still did.
"Yeah, Liam, I'd like that more than very much." Wetting his lips he straightened up a little at Liam's questions. His eyes scanning around them, wondering if anyone had heard them and how Liam would feel about that if someone had. "You know I love a cute, spontaneous date." If Kit hadn't already been smiling, then it would have been a bit more obvious just how giddy the mere prospect of calling this a date. The rational side of Kit knew better than to do this, but if there was one thing that kept him irrational it was his love for the man across the table. Reaching over, he squeezed Liam's hand. "Why the almost?"
It’s not fair for Kit to have the kind of power that renders him speechless at the mere appearance of that smile, and yet butterflies take flight in his stomach as he takes in his ex’s grin. At least he still has his menu, something to focus on beside the warm, brown eyes staring across at him.
Given all that has happened since Kittikhun’s departure from Toronto, Liam isn’t sure what answer he is expecting to hear, but there is no hiding the relief that he wears at the initial response. “Then, I guess you should know I would like that, too.” As much as he longs to be in the arms of the man across the table, he isn’t so willing to be the first to confess his feelings. With so much still uncertain, Liam realizes how easily that could end in heartbreak. Again.
”Almost because… it would be really stupid of me to consider this a date,” he admits. “I haven’t seen you in a long time, but you look the same, and I’m sitting here thinking even more stupid things that I probably shouldn’t even say.” In fact, he should probably stop talking altogether, which he seems to realize a moment later. “Does that mean dinner would be our second date?” More accurately, their second attempt at a second date. “If so, then I accept.”
"I never stopped loving you, that's why I ended things. It is not like it took you that long to move on once I did. You made it pretty clear you were free of this- of us." (Kia for Syv)
"I never stopped loving you."
Time helped to ease the heartbreak years ago, but hearing those words soothes something in him that has not been settled since. Under any other circumstances, he would be happy to stop listening there, but then Kia goes on, and Syver feels his chest tighten. Suddenly, he is struck by the same loss all over again.
"Bull. Shit." His fists are clenched at either side, his brow furrowed as he shakes his head. "No. Fuck that, Kia." It's probably not the best start to this conversation that has been put off for years, but Syver can't help the words once they start.
"I loved you." Really, that is the start and the end of it, but he continues. "I put off San Jose because I didn't want to lose you, and I know we were busy and it wasn't easy, but I would have put it off the whole time if I thought that's what you wanted." If he thought she would have moved with him. Setting herself up for her career was just as important, but Syver would have requested a trade to play anywhere. "I'm not the one who gave up. You don't get to act like you loved me more when everything I did--" Staying an extra year in college, playing for a terrible team, being traded to another team because of how long it took him to make the jump to the national league-- "was to try and make things work."
"Hetrick, how are you handling the loss against your former teammate, Holloway? He got two goals past you just this game."
"Callum?" Joel's brow lifts in question, and though he is still processing the loss, a smile flickers across his lips at the mention of his old friend and now competitor. "Yeah, he had a great night. I... as you know, I got to play with him for a while back in Ottawa, and I got to see--I guess I got to see a side of him that you guys maybe didn't." You don't make it to the highest level of play without enough talent to carry you there, and Joel has been a fan of Callum for a long time, even before his breakout success this year.
"I've always known what a talented guy he is. He's a physical guy, obviously, but they're a physical team. I don't know. I thought I knew him pretty well, but he's got a good poker face. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, but his playmaking and the way he's been playing this year is--this was a hard loss for us, but props to him. That first goal is probably already on the highlight reels." His smile returns, this time it's a little more sad. "I'm excited to face them again next time. Cal owes me dinner after this one. Maybe I can pick his brain and learn some of his new secrets," he says, nodding. "Thanks, guys."
//love Scott and Kip tbh but also the council has spoken @pararennial @erstwhles
i need this here too 😅 including your tags because i remember you mentioning that and it brings me just as much joy being reminded now
for the record, equally obsessed with syver, so i get it
friend break ups can cut just as deep as romantic ones. friend heartbreak is so valid.
@erstwhles
OOC// me with my 150k friends to lovers hockey verse with bridge that's been around before heated rivalry like- this is funny
dare I say, ours is even more compelling!
Zane appreciated Leo trying to comfort him after a series of bad races. It didn't immediately brighten his mood but those kind words managed to soften the blows of self-deprecation that he'd been inflicting since he jumped out of the cockpit. "At least you're having a great season. There's always Silverstone next year, right?" Next year, if he still had a seat. Zane's stomach twisted at the thought.
"Did you hear the rumors? I know I shouldn't even look at it but..." His mouth felt dry and he cleared it before continuing. "There was a report Toto was over at Red Bull, that maybe he's trying to pull Thijs to our team." The reigning world champion, the four time world champion, the driver whose career he was supposed to be emulating if not the seven time champion whose seat he had taken. "The bar was so high and I'm not even close to reaching it. I wouldn't blame him if he was looking elsewhere."
The mention of next season has Leo tensing. The rumors have been swirling around the paddock for weeks, and despite Toto’s assurance that this is the driver lineup he wants to carry into the next season, the fact is that he and Zane have yet to sign new contracts.
Above all, it is a business, but the people who work on this team are family. He wants to trust their team principal, but he also understands that when a driver like Thijs is said to be available next season, a team has to at least investigate the possibility. His history with Thijs spans years, and aside from not wanting the team to lose a young driver as skilled as Zane, Leo also isn’t keen on gaining Thijs as a replacement. It would be easy for the team to shift focus to the reigning world champion and his strong opinions. According to the rumors, that would be the best scenario for him, as the alternative would be that Zane keeps his seat and Leo is replaced. A lineup with the two of them brings experience and a proven track record alongside Zane’s promise of the future. Maybe Zane isn’t the one in trouble—“I’ve heard the rumors.” Better to keep it at that.
”You could drive yourself crazy with that,” Leo says, shaking his head. “I trust Toto. A picture is a picture, and he’s said nothing to make you think it won’t be you next year. The rest is ink on paper. For now, we need to focus on the next two. We’ll make it to break and then… reset the rest of the season.” He nods this time. “Any big plans over summer break?”
getting to even make the show was the dream. the critical acclaim, fandom explosion, media circus, nominations and subsequent awards show invitations and a sudden chokehold on pop culture felt like an elaborately absurd hallucination she would be shaken out of at any second. it had been pinch me moment after pinch me moment ! ——— there's an email from OPRAH in her inbox as we speak. this kind of meteoric rise was almost unheard of for a television writer. screenwriting regardless of the popularity of the project typically granted a veil of anonymity. elara's veil had been torn away in a matter of weeks due in large part to the staggering power of social media and that hbo deal slapping her name on promotional material and requiring front facing press.
six weeks later, she's at a million instagram followers and had to sit down with her publicist about what inviting her boyfriend as her plus one to the first ( of many ) awards show of the season ' meant. ' ——— apparently, dating the captian of a nhl team as the newly minted patron saint of hockey yaoi could get several corners of the internet talking.
elara felt her heart flutter and swell within her chest with each stolen glance at andrew in the mirror behind her as she continued to get ready for the night. and with each glance, that aforementioned conversation with her publicist felt even more ridiculous. it didn't matter what it all meant. she wanted him here because he was important to her.
the press of his lips against her shoulder sends a shiver down her spine and cause the nerves brewing in her stomach to disperse, " mmmm. well, looking ready is half the battle. " a peachy blush deepens beneath his compliment, " aw you're nice, you're so nice. " she'll turn to face the man in reality rather than his reflection and scoffs playfully upon taking him all in, " god, you are so handsome. it's completely absurd. "
a long pause lingers between them a sudden and overwhelming wave of nervousness weighs her down landing her forehead into his chest, " what if i got really sick all of a sudden and couldn't go anymore ? "
The smile he wears is the same one that encouraged TSN to dub him the Prince of New York. Her compliment is worth at least that much, even if tonight isn’t about him. Whatever happens tonight, whoever he speaks to, Andrew has no interest in letting his presence or his job overshadow the accomplishments Elara achieved to get this far. Though he is more than happy to be along for the ride, the sudden spotlight on her career should remain just that.
Thinking about it all has pride sparkling in his eyes as she turns to face him, and Andrew chuckles at her question. “Okay, you look… a little less ready now,” he admits, lifting a hand to rub gentle circles between her shoulders. “If you didn’t go, then… the world would go on. But I think you would have a lot of disappointed people.” There is a pause as he dips his head to leave a kiss against her hair. “Me, for one, because you deserve this.” After years of hard work, she deserves this.
“You’ve worked too hard not to go tonight. And, I mean, I probably won’t be much help because I have absolutely no idea what I should be doing tonight, but I’ll be there the whole time.” His arms remain around her, strong and solid as he pulls back to catch her eyes. “Except if they call your name on stage. I’ll have to stand back, then, but I’ll be clapping. And cheering.” Do they allow that? What is the etiquette at these things?
His smile is softer this time, but it is just as genuine. “Hey, I’m really proud of you, by the way. So fucking proud no matter what happens tonight. But… that does mean we have to actually go to see what is going to happen.”
@erstwhles
@.popcrave: NHL Player Andrew Moreau stuns at the 31st Annual Critics Choice Awards where his rumored girlfriend, writer @encntada is nominated in multiple categories
Andrew makes no effort to hide his appreciation as he watches Elara check herself one final time in the mirror. Usually calm and composed, so sure of herself, he notices the flicker of nerves in her eyes.
This isn't the first public event either of them have attended, but it is his first award show and Elara's first with multiple nominations to her name.
More than that, it is the first event they are attending together. Given the sudden rise to fame Elara has seen with the success of her newest show, there has been no shortage of press around her. Andrew would hate for that attention to shift to the two of them when she has worked this hard to build her career. He would also hate to have that level of noteriety in general, but luckily hockey players, even at his level, are mostly able to fly under the radar. Of course, that will change tonight.
Even he can admit it makes for a good headline: Elara Carlow, hit screenwriter and creator of hockey romance "Thin Ice," dating New York Rangers captain Andrew Moreau.
Though, as he continues watching her, he realizes how ready he is for the world to know.
An easy smile makes up his expression as he slowly approaches, letting his hands rest on either of her sides as he stops behind her. "You look ready." Leaning down, he presses a kiss to her shoulder before meeting her eyes in the mirror. His own image stares back, hair perfectly set and joined by a striped button down, a black satin tie, and a matching blazer. It was one of his first tailored suits, and since it felt silly to buy a new outfit for an occasion that wasn't really his, what better choice than to wear than his longtime lucky suit? "You look beautiful."
having a brother in the nhl definitely had its perks: free tickets to games, all of the amenities that came with those tickets, meeting other hockey gorgeous players. right now, elara may was currently enjoying perhaps her favorite of those perks; draped across a plush bed in a nice manhattan hotel scrolling through her phone. and while she was pretty pleased with her brooklyn apartment nothing beats a free hotel.
photos and short videos curated by the instagram algorithm pass beneath her scrolling thumb. her chin rests comfortably on a very plush white hotel pillow whilst her marc jacobs boots dangled off the edge of the bed. a quick glance at the time in tiny white font on the top left of her phone screen reveals quite a bit of time elapsed between when she arrived, when he said they had to leave and the current time. and she just so happened to be reaching the dreaded lull in her scrolling. rolling onto her back, elara tilts her head up to wail, " syveeeeeeeer ! don't you have somewhere to be ? what are you even doing in there ? you're just going to shove your ginormous head into a helmet anyway ! " to which he responds in turn. ——- brothers.
he emerges a minute later looking almost exactly the way he did an hour ago ( with the addition of a suit ) which earns him a scoff and eye roll, " estatic. " a curt response followed by her tongue shooting playfully out of her mouth in his direction. he sits, she stands to walk over to the mirror on the wall to smooth out her outfit now slightly mused from laying across the bed for an hour.
manicured brows raise suspiciously though she remains quiet even turning to face him in an dedicated effort to hear him out. " a not a party party after the game —- hmmmm. " she'll tap her finger against her chin in a moment of "deep" thought. elara had definitely found herself busier than normal these days but she always made sure to carve out as much time as possible whenever syver was in the city, " i'm actually kind of offended you thought i'd say no to that. " her response comes with a smile, " i am only saying yes because joel is going to be there and on the condition that this not a party party is a celebratory one. i know that i'm technically a new yorker now but watching you lose to the rangers tonight would be super fucking embarrassing. "
With the first shoe tied, Syver taps his heel against the soft carpet and moves onto the second, choosing not to look up until the task is finished. "Yeah." Coming to his feet, he smooths the front of his shirt and reaches over to pull his coat which was draped over top of his bag.
There's a dramatic eye roll that he saves for when they are facing each other, just to ensure she sees, but Syver smiles anyway. "Well last time you said you couldn't go because you had work the next day. Can't believe you blew me off for some bullshit interview for your new show." Though he scoffs, pride shines bright in his eyes. Seeing her already collaborating on scripts and screenplays that are being lauded by fans and critics alike has him smiling. There is no one more deserving of success.
Pulling the coat over his shoulders marks the official end of getting ready, and Syver grabs his phone and wallet. "Not as fun as a real party, but there will be alcohol. And Joel," he says. "You mean embarrassing because the Rangers are shit? Yeah. I'll never know what Andrew Moreau sees in them." Another scoff. That much talent dedicating another four seasons to a team that hasn't seen round two in the playoffs for years is baffling, but Syver supposes the $9,000,000 contract isn't a bad consolation prize. "Whatever. So you'll be there? Sweet." Between living in different cities and traveling for work, they don't see each other as much as he wishes.
"We should go, by the way. You should've told me how late it was getting." Not that he seems to be in any more of a rush as he taps the screen of his phone to check notifications. "I'm ordering Starbucks. Do you want your usual?" He asks, blindly reaching for the door handle to let them both out.
Their seventh Valentine's Day together falls a few months after the sixth anniversary of their first date, and a few months shy of their fifth wedding anniversary, and while some people might take a holiday like this for granted after so many years with the same person, Zander is not some people.
That's why, when Liam wakes up in their bed the morning after returning from a week-long road trip, there's a tulip laying beside him on the mattress, while his husband smiles fondly at him from his pillow. "Good morning, handsome," Zander says softly. He gives him a moment to wake up a little more before he poses an important question, revealing the reason for his surprise: "Will you be my Valentine?" It's still ten days out from the fourteenth, so this is really just a preview of the actual day. If Liam says yes, of course.
The morning following a long road trip is always the most difficult. It's when the fatigue of travel finally has a chance to catch up and the soreness that typically follows a game hits just a little harder once his body has a chance to rest. He appreciates having the morning to sleep in, but this time, there are no complaints as his eyes flutter open, first landing on the flower beside him.
A smile slowly spreads across his lips, and he shuts his eyes again. "Morning, baby," comes his sleepy reply, joined by a deep breath as he stretches to wake himself up a little more. "What's this?" He clears his throat and reaches for the flower, letting his thumb run over the smooth leaf.
The answer he receives has him chuckling into his pillow as he hides his face. "I have to think about it. I want to keep my options open," he says. "There was a fan with a sign at warmups yesterday, and they asked first, so." Though his expression betrays how charmed he is by the question, smile widening as he pulls the tulip closer.
Still, Liam is quiet, choosing to take a moment to appreciate the flower before his attention shifts to his husband. "Okay, I've thought about it. I think I need to know what's included in being your Valentine."
gifts for @erstwhles ( one of two ! ) ‧₊˚ 🎄 ✩ ₊ ˚🦌 ⊹ ♡
the store was… busy. magdalena was certainly used to busy. her old factory job was busy but it was different. it the was the kind of busy that left her exhausted at the end of the day. the feet aching, sore back, calloused hands kind of exhausted. her job at the shoe store wasn't anything like that ——- and she was grateful for it.
one late afternoon, the store is buzzing. customers of all kinds clamoring for well made shoes at competitive prices. magdalena's customers at the present were a very patient daughter and a very particular mother ——- who have just sent her in the back again for yet another size of the same brown mary janes. emerging from the backroom with a shoebox in hand, another salesperson, a bubbly young woman around magdalena's age, intercepts before she could take another step. " someone’s here to see you. " words broken by a very knowing smile. magdalena’s thick brows furrow with confusion, " to see me ? but, i — i don’t know anybody. " the other girl's smile only grows in the face of confusion, " well, he knows you. " she sang taking the shoebox from magdalena's hands.
" what ? " the color rushes away from her cheeks giving way to shock, " did you see who it was ? " the other sales girl's eyes lit up like a christmas tree, " yes ! " she says, steering magdalena towards the small opening that divides the stockroom from the sales floor, " look ! "
her heart could've stopped right then. there he was. the young man she'd spent the night at the theater with ——— alaric hearst. he looked just as handsome he did the night they met, maybe even more so. a shoebox pushed gently into the small of her back and a whispered go, go! coaxes her out from the stockroom. it feels like a mile between the back of the store to where he was waiting so patiently. a quiet involuntary gasp leapt from the back of her throat once the two were face to face. a moment passes but it is hardly silent as her heart pounded in her ears, " h — hello again. " her eyes dart between him and the wall of shoes to their right, " could — could i help you find a pair of shoes ? "
Maybe he shouldn't be here...
He has not stopped thinking about Magdalena since the night they met, the image of her face flashing in his mind at even the smallest reminder. Suddenly, every twirling dress, every dark curl might as well be her. It all carries him back to that night, to the most kind and beautiful woman he has ever met. Though as he stands in her workplace, surrounded by endless piles of boxes, he has to pause and rethink his plan. After all, it was only one night.
One breathtaking night.
He is beaming just thinking about it and the promise of another evening in the future, one that is just the two of them getting to know each other better. That is the mission he is on, he reminds himself.
It is possible, of course, that she may not feel the same way. Maybe this isn't the right time to ask her out, but he isn't exactly sure how else to find her. Add to that the way his heart is beating in his chest, and Alaric isn't sure he'll have the confidence to try this again somewhere else.
Should he turn around anyway?
"Oh!" He nearly jumps, turning to face her rather than the impressive wall of shoes. Perhaps not the best start. "Hello," he says, nodding. Alaric almost extends a hand along with his greeting, but catches himself and takes a deep breath instead. "It is good to see you again."
Despite his obvious nerves, his expression brightens impossibly, and following her question, the real reason for his trip is suddenly forgotten. "Oh, yes! Of course. That is... why I came here. Yes. I am looking for... a pair of shoes." It isn't the most specific request, which he seems to notice. "Um... what do you recommend? Mine are looking quite worn out, I think." It takes a moment for him to look away, thoroughly drawn in by her warm eyes.
When he does finally look down, he notices that his shoes are not, in fact, worn out at all, and his cheeks flush at the realization. "Not these... I mean... some I have at home. They look similar. I--they're brown, though. Do you think you might have a similar pair?"
