hi! my name is lucy but i go by lu! i’m not completely new to writing but it’s been a long time! i have been a hockey fan my entire life and love the devils and sharks!
i’m going to be as active as possible while trying to learn how to navigate tumblr!
my blog is a place for positivity only and no hate will be tolerated!
i will not be creating any mature content. i do not feel comfortable writing about it with real life athletes. i understand this can be upsetting but please be aware hockey players are real humans, and i want to respect that.
i've been doing SO much thinking these past few weeks, and while i won't be coming back on here to write fics i do want to come back in some capacity
here's my thoughts and options:
1. you guys send in more question type asks and i write a short response to keep our au's alive
ex. someone asks how will and y/n handle seeing sienna at the wedding and i write a short response not a fic
2. i write primary social media au's
3. we combine them and have some fun
this is up to you guys and i want to be back but just do not hold the mental capacity to write full time anymore, the past few weeks have been a friendly reminder that there is so many people in this world that want to see you fail. always choose kindness, hiding behind an anon ask is not cool💗
warnings: pure fluff, toddler-level chaos, blanket fort destruction of the living room, excessive clinginess, soft energy, and a tiny human fully running the house (and winning)
it starts with a crash.
not a huge one.
but enough.
you freeze mid-step in the hallway.
“…will.”
and from the living room -
“i didn’t do it.”
you narrow your eyes, “…i didn’t say you did.”
“felt implied.”
another sound.
something plastic hitting the floor.
you walk faster now.
and when you turn the corner -
you stop.
“…oh my god.”
the living room is a disaster.
not a normal mess.
not toys-out messy.
construction zone messy.
couch cushions on the floor.
blankets draped over chairs.
a full blanket fort situation that looks - surprisingly well built.
and in the middle of it -
sienna.
wearing one of will’s t-shirts.
which is basically a dress on her.
holding a wooden spoon.
“hi mommy,” she says.
you blink, “…hello.”
will is sitting on the floor.
inside the fort.
legs crossed.
looking way too comfortable for someone who absolutely helped cause this.
“…explain,” you say.
he gestures vaguely around them.
“we built a house.”
“i can see that.”
“it’s a good house.”
sienna nods very seriously, “our house.”
you cross your arms.
trying very hard not to smile.
“…and the rest of the living room?”
“sacrifice,” will says immediately.
you stare at him.
“…sacrifice.”
“necessary.”
you look back at sienna.
she’s watching you carefully.
like your reaction matters a lot.
“can i come in?” you ask.
her face lights up instantly, “yes!”
she scrambles over.
grabs your hand.
pulls you toward the fort.
“careful,” will warns, “low clearance.”
you crouch down.
crawling inside.
and honestly?
it’s kind of impressive.
pillows stacked just right.
blankets tucked in.
a little pile of stuffed animals in the corner.
sienna climbs right into your lap like it’s her designated spot.
“you sit here,” she instructs.
you obey.
will watches this.
smug.
“…she didn’t tell me where to sit,” he says.
“you built it wrong,” you reply.
“rude.”
sienna pats your arm.
“you stay.”
“i’m staying,” you promise.
she nods.
satisfied.
then -
she leans across you -
straight into will.
like she needs both of you at the same time.
you shift automatically.
making space.
will adjusts too.
his arm coming around both of you without even thinking.
“…this is crowded,” he murmurs.
“no,” sienna says immediately.
“…okay,” he corrects, “this is perfect.”
you smile.
and then -
“snack,” sienna says.
you blink, “…what.”
“snack.”
will sighs.
“we just ate bubble."
“snack,” she repeats.
you look at him.
he looks at you.
“…i’ll get it,” you both say at the same time.
you both pause.
“…you go,” he adds.
“no, you go.”
“i’m comfortable.”
“so am i.”
sienna looks between you.
“…both go.”
you both laugh.
“not how that works, baby,” you say.
she thinks about it.
then -
“…dada go.”
will exhales, “i’ve been chosen.”
“go,” you say, nudging him slightly.
he crawls out of the fort dramatically.
“…don’t collapse my house while i’m gone,” he warns.
“no promises,” you call.
he disappears.
it’s quieter now.
just you and her.
she shifts slightly in your lap.
plays with the string of your sweatshirt.
“…do you like it?” she asks.
you look around the fort.
then back at her.
“i love it.”
she smiles.
big.
soft.
“me too.”
you brush her hair back gently, “you did a really good job.”
warnings: extreme fluff, tiny child chaos, clingy toddler who refuses to be put down, soft dad will content, y/n being quietly in awe, and a very unserious post-game interview that turns into a full-on heart-melting moment
the game’s been over for maybe ten minutes.
the hallway by the locker rooms is busy -
players coming in and out, staff moving around, people talking over each other -
but it’s quieter than the rink.
muffled.
will’s leaning against the wall.
fully changed already.
sweats.
hoodie.
hair still a little damp.
he’s mid-interview.
answering something about the third period -
calm, easy, a little tired but still smiling.
a few feet away -
you’re standing with sienna on your hip.
she’s been good.
so good.
watching, quiet, playing with the sleeve of your sweatshirt -
until she sees him.
you feel it before it even happens.
the way she suddenly stills.
“…no,” you murmur softly, already knowing.
“dada.”
and then -
she’s moving.
“wait -” you try, shifting your hold, “baby -”
but she’s already twisting out of your arms.
“sienna -!”
too late.
little shoes hitting the floor -
fast, determined steps -
“dada!”
will’s head snaps up immediately.
mid-answer.
mid-play breakdown.
everything else drops.
“hey -”
she runs straight into him.
arms up.
he doesn’t even think.
just scoops her up instantly.
“hi, bug,” he breathes, smiling into her hair.
she clings.
tight.
like she hasn’t seen him in days instead of… a few hours.
you slow to a stop a few feet away.
half ready to apologize -
but no one looks annoyed.
if anything -
everyone’s smiling.
will shifts her onto his hip.
one arm secure around her.
“…sorry,” he says quickly, glancing back at drew and randy.
but sienna just buries her face into his shoulder.
refusing to let go.
you laugh softly under your breath.
shaking your head.
“she said no,” you call lightly.
will huffs a quiet laugh.
“yeah, i can tell."
“we can keep going,” drew says, clearly not minding at all.
will nods.
adjusts sienna slightly.
“okay,” he says, picking back up like nothing happened.
and he does.
answers questions.
talks through plays.
explains something about positioning -
all while holding her.
like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
and she just… stays.
one arm wrapped around his neck.
the other playing with the string of his hoodie.
you lean back against the wall now.
watching.
and it hits you all at once.
how easy it is.
how him it is.
he’s not even thinking about it.
not adjusting.
not overcompensating.
just… doing both.
talking.
holding her.
smiling when she mumbles something into his shoulder.
your chest tightens.
but soft.
“you did great tonight,” the randy says.
will nods once.
“yeah, it was a good team win -”
he pauses.
just for a second.
because sienna’s hand has reached up.
fingers brushing against his headset.
tilting it slightly.
“…hey,” he laughs softly, catching it before it slips too far.
she giggles.
completely unbothered.
“help.”
you actually laugh out loud this time.
randy loses it behind the camera, “oh my -”
will shakes his head.
smiling.
“you fixing it?” he murmurs to her.
she nods.
very serious.
“…okay,” he says, letting her.
she pats it once.
like that solves everything.
“good.”
there’s a collective awww from like -
everyone.
you cover your mouth.
smiling so hard it almost hurts.
he looks over at you then.
just for a second.
and the way his expression softens -
it knocks the air out of you a little.
like this is what he was meant for.
not just the game.
not just the wins.
this.
he glances back at drew and randy.
finishes answering the question.
but his hand is still rubbing slow circles on sienna’s back.
absent.
automatic.
she’s calmer now.
resting against him.
playing with the edge of his sleeve.
“last one,” randy says, smiling.
will nods.
answers it easily.
and then it’s over.
“thank you,” they say.
“yeah, thank you,” will replies.
the mic lowers.
the camera shifts away.
and immediately -
he turns fully toward you.
“she escaped?” he asks, amused.
you shrug.
“i tried.”
“didn’t try very hard.”
“she’s stronger than me.”
he laughs.
walks closer.
sienna lifts her head slightly.
reaches for you.
“mama.”
you step in.
brush her hair back gently.
“hi, baby.”
she smiles.
then immediately tucks herself back into will.
you snort.
“oh. okay.”
will grins, “i’m the favorite right now.”
“don’t get used to it.”
he leans in slightly.
quiet.
“…you were watching.”
you nod.
“…yeah.”
“what’d you think.”
you look at him.
really look at him.
sienna in his arms.
hoodie slightly crooked.
hair still messy.
and you smile.
soft.
a little in awe.
“…you’re really good at that.”
he glances down at sienna.
then back at you, “yeah?”
you nod again.
“…yeah.”
he smiles.
smaller this time.
quieter.
and presses a quick kiss to sienna’s head -
then looks back at you like he wants to say something else.
warnings: fluff overload, hallway crowd chaos, excessive clinginess, soft teasing, and a boyfriend who refuses to respect personal space (in the cutest way possible)
the hallway is packed.
like shoulder-to-shoulder, end-of-day, everyone-talking-at-once kind of packed.
you’re trying to get to your locker.
trying.
“move - sorry - wait -” you squeeze between two people, nearly getting taken out by someone’s backpack.
“…i hate this place,” you mumble under your breath.
“hi, pretty girl.”
you freeze.
turn your head -
and there he is.
leaning against your locker.
like he owns it.
arms crossed.
smug smile already there.
“…you’re in my way,” you say.
“missed you too.”
you try to open your locker.
he doesn’t move.
you glance at him.
“…will.”
“yeah?”
“move.”
he tilts his head.
pretends to think about it.
“no.”
you stare at him, “i have practice.”
“i know.”
“then why are you here.”
“because you have practice.”
you blink, “that doesn’t make sense.”
“i wanted to see you before you left.”
and there it is.
just dropped like it’s nothing.
your expression softens for half a second.
you try to hide it.
“…you saw me in science.”
“not enough.”
you roll your eyes.
but your lips twitch.
“you’re so annoying.”
“yeah.”
he finally moves.
just enough for you to open your locker.
you start grabbing your stuff.
trying to focus.
he doesn’t go anywhere.
just stands way too close.
"you’re hovering,” you say.
“i’m standing.”
"you’re breathing on me.”
“that’s kind of necessary.”
you shove a book into your bag.
a little harder than needed.
he reaches out grabbing the strap before you can sling it over your shoulder.
you pause.
“…what.”
he just looks at you.
for a second.
then-
his hand slides from your bag strap to your wrist.
light.
gentle.
and he tugs you forward.
just a little.
you stumble half a step.
ending up right in front of him.
“…hi,” he says.
you blink.
“…hi.”
there’s people everywhere.
still loud.
still chaotic.
but somehow -
it feels quieter right here.
his hand is still around your wrist.
not tight.
just… there.
“i'm gonna be late,” you mumble.
“worth it.”
you try to hold eye contact.
fail.
look down.
he notices.
of course he does.
his other hand comes up.
hooks lightly at your waist.
“will -” you whisper, glancing around, “people -”
“i don’t care.”
your face heats up.
“…i do.”
he smiles.
soft.
not teasing this time.
“just for a second,” he murmurs.
you hesitate.
then -
you don’t pull away.
his thumb brushes lightly over your wrist.
back and forth.
absent.
“you good?” he asks quietly.
you nod.
“…yeah.”
“promise?”
you glance up at him, “…yeah.”
he studies you for a second.
like he’s actually checking.
then nods.
“okay.”
he lets go of your wrist.
but not your waist.
you should step back.
you don’t.
“…i should go,” you say.
“yeah.”
neither of you move.
“…you’re still holding me,” you point out.
“i know.”
you huff a small laugh.
“…you’re ridiculous.”
“you like it.”
you don’t answer.
he grins.
then finally -
he leans in.
quick.
soft.
he presses a kiss just barely to the side of your head.
and pulls back like nothing happened.
“go,” he says.
you stare at him.
“you’re insane.”
“probably.”
you shake your head.
but you’re smiling now.
“…bye.”
“bye.”
you turn.
start walking.
get maybe five steps -
“hey!”
you turn back.
he’s still standing there.
watching you.
“…yeah?”
he shrugs, “nothing.”
you narrow your eyes.
“…you’re so weird.”
“and you’re still looking at me.”
you roll your eyes.
turn back around.
but your smile doesn’t go away the whole way down the hall.
